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“Did he ever say those words to you verbatim, or did you just assume he’s eighteen?” Remy questioned.
I thought back and came up blank. No, we had never actually discussed it, but we were both seniors, so why would we?
Remy must have noticed the realization dawning on my face because he continued without waiting for my confirmation. “He was held back a few years in grade school. I know it seems like he still struggles with his dyslexia now, but he’s come leaps and bounds since he was a kid. His dad pretty much gave up on him. It wasn’t until his Grandma Betty started getting him to read her saucy romance novels to her that things started to improve.”
“Right,” I replied, unsure of how much to delve into the topic. Gray had confided many of his insecurities related to his learning difficulty, but the fact that he had repeated a grade had never come up. I could only assume that despite his efforts to be open, he still felt enough shame over some aspects to not want to discuss them.
I had no intention of holding something like this against Gray. We both had sensitive topics we’d rather forget, understanding that there was no need to unearth painful memories without cause. So what, if he was a year older than me?
“Anyway, back to the point. Now I feel bad being the one to spill the beans to you but it’s important. Gray’s twenty-first birthday is the same day as graduation.” What the fuck? I took that back. Gray was held back three times, is years older than me, and just ‘forgot’ to mention it. Either that or he straight-up lied, which he promised he wouldn’t do.
“Obviously his family isn’t going to do anything to celebrate either achievement with him. So the guys and I were thinking of taking him out to mark the milestone. You know, get him his first legal drink and all that jazz. Let him know how proud we are of him for not only finishing high school when he doubted he ever would, but for also going to college.
But again, if there’s anyone he would want to spend that day with, it’s you, not us. So I don’t want to overstep or anything. I just have an idea that I thought could make the day super special for him while not putting all the focus on him, ya know?”
“Well, it’s not as if I knew his birthday was coming up, so I couldn’t exactly have made plans for it,” I replied, trying not to sound as salty as I felt about it. Gray would be getting his ass chewed out when he got home.
“Look, please don’t take it out on Gray. He has his reasons for keeping it to himself.”
“I know that,” I snapped. “Doesn’t make lying to me about it okay.”
“Take it easy, Spitfire. What I’m gettin’ at is that Gray is absolutely crazy about you. It’s why I was so surprised that he hadn’t already shared that with you. Because I’m telling you, you two are in it for the long haul. Hell, we can all see it. You and Gray? That’s the real deal.”
I let out a scoff, not quite sure how to respond.
“I ain’t jokin’. We all know that high school relationships are usually a load of BS—gone by the end of college, if they even make it that far. But every so often, you’ll stumble across a couple of kids who it’s obvious they’re gonna go the distance. You and Gray are that couple. I have faith in you two.”
I scratched the back of my neck in discomfort as we approached the music room, an old tin shack tucked away from the main classrooms to keep the noise in check. “Well, I really need to get going so can you just tell me your plan?”
“Does that mean you’re game?” he asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes.
“Maybe. Depends what it is,” I replied.
“Right. Right. Well, you know how Gray’s been on your case to do a live set?”
How could I forget? Ever since I got swept up in the whirlwind of emotions that came with being in Gray’s orbit and I had blabbed about my musical aspirations, he’d been hounding me. Practically badgering me every other day to let him organize a gig for me.
I kept turning him down, the fear of failure still too daunting. If I was going to bomb in front of an audience, I didn’t want it to be at a show Gray had pulled the strings to secure.
“Mmm-hmm,” I hummed noncommittally.
“Well, the guys and I thought we could lure him out for a boys’ night at Spark and then surprise him with the big reveal—the entertainment for the night is you. Imagine the look on his face; he’d lose his freaking mind,” Remy gushed.
“I can be his entertainment for the night without risking public humiliation, you know. I had a different kind of entertainment in mind that Gray might prefer to keep just between us,” I deadpanned.
Remy playfully nudged my shoulder. “Come on, be serious. You and I both know Gray deserves a bit of fuss for once. And this is his ultimate wish. I mean, he never shuts up about it. Our group chat has turned into a Colton fan forum. Pleaseee,” he pleaded, giving me the puppy dog eyes.
“Fine, one song,” I grumbled.
∞∞∞
Given our tiny class size, Gray and I stood shoulder to shoulder in the graduation line, casting stolen glances at each other. Engaging in silent games, challenging ourselves to pull the most ridiculous faces without incurring the wrath of a vigilant teacher.
Once upon a time, the prospect of hearing only my name called, with no grand post-high school plans announced, would have sent me into a tailspin of anxiety. Back then, my belief was tethered to the notion that success meant going to college and taking some boring-ass course to secure a job I hated but would leave me with a secure paycheck. Stability had always been my top priority. However, now thanks to Gray, stability had taken on a new form; a supportive partner encouraging me to chase my true passion, the opportunity to share my music with the world. Now, my only plans involved following Gray to college where we would share a cheap, shitty apartment and putting my subpar barista skills to work while I found a way to make music.
My pulse quickened when Gray made his way across the stage, draped in a regal purple cap and gown, a grin stretching across his face. My chest swelled with pride as the emcee proudly announced Gray’s acceptance to The University of Western Missouri. That’s my man.
As part of Remy’s absurd scheme, I had to feign a stomach bug to wriggle out of the celebratory dinner he had meticulously planned. A stomach ailment, because any other sickness would have had Gray right by my side, nursing me back to health. However, Gray’s weak spot was dealing with vomit, so I assured him I’d be perfectly fine at home and urged him to go ahead with the guys for whatever festivities they had in store.
