I shift, crossing an ankle over my knee and settling more deeply into the chair and into my story.
“It was kind of disorienting to be back in America at first. Disorienting and amazing. I hadn’t been surrounded by people who looked like me in a long time, so coming to Finley was like fresh air.”
“Did your time with your parents in Germany play a part in deciding to spend your senior year abroad?”
“Probably. I loved being back here, but I’ve always enjoyed varied cultural experiences and knew I wanted to report from around the world. When the offer came to work with a foreign press that last year, I jumped at it. I wouldn’t trade that time working as a reporter in Paris for anything. It revealed a lot about what I wanted for my career, for my life.”
“Well, speaking as one of your friends here for three years,” Niomi says, her smile a little wistful. “We missed having you around. When you couldn’t even make it back for graduation, we were all disappointed.”
“I wanted to, but by then I had a daughter on the way.” I point to Celiene. “Your homecoming queen.”
The camera grabs a shot of Celine, briefly flashing her on the large screen. The crowd erupts, some making the connection between us for the first time. Celine grins, pleasure and pride seeming to burst from every pore. I’m glad I came back for this, for her. That I get to see her this way. Happy, even if I do have some making up to do.
“I didn’t get to walk for graduation,” I continue. “My diploma arrived in Paris the day Celine was born. It was a good trade-off. I was in the right place, but there was a lot I missed spending senior year abroad. I didn’t get to enjoy that last homecoming with my friends.”
This is a weekend to recover and repair. I knew that was the assignment with Celine. Obviously I have ground to make up with her, but maybe I can start making up ground with Niomi, too.
“There was one thing I’ve always regretted not getting to do senior year,” I say.
“Yeah? Are you gonna share with the class?” Niomi gestures to the large crowd surrounding the stage.
“There was this girl.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, anooooohrises from the crowd. I look out at them with raised brows and a wolfish grin. When I swing my look back around to Niomi, though, the smile has frozen on her face. She blinks about ten times in two seconds and licks her lips before she goes on.
“A girl?”
“A girl I liked. A lot. I’d had a crush on her since freshman year.”
The audience sends up more whoops, and if Niomi’s cheeks weren’t that rich shade of brown, I’d bet my next book advance we’d see her blushing.
“Why did you . . .well, you had three years. Why didn’t you ever tell this girl how you felt?”
“I thought there would be time. At a party celebrating the end of finals right before we went home for the summer, I kissed her.”
Her chest rises with a sharply-indrawn breath and every trace of a smile disappears. Her eyes are alert and wide and locked on mine.
“You-you did?”
“Yeah, but it couldn’t go anywhere. She was dating someone else. We were both a little drunk,” I aim my words at the crowd and chuckle. “But I remember every moment. It was perfect.”
“It was,” she agrees softly. Her startled eyes ping from my face to the crowd. “I mean . . . itwas? Was it?”
“I don’t kiss and tell, but?—”
“And yet here you are telling.”
“Just the best parts.” The look I level on her blocks out the crowd so she has no doubt this is about her, about us, not about this interview or our spectators. “I told myself senior year if she was free, I would ask her out and let her know how I felt. I even had a grand gesture planned.”
I give the crowd a wry look. “And I ain’t the grand gesture kind of dude.”
I check Celine’s expression to make sure this isn’t awkward for her. She’s always known there wasn’t some great love match between her mom and me. We’ve never been a couple. We’ve always been her parents who, though we didn’t love each other, loved her very much. All Celine’s life Annette and I have dated other people. Not that I had much time to date much. Fortunately, Celine’s beaming, seemingly as eager for the next details of the story as the students around her.
“So about this grand gesture,” Niomi says, her mouth curling at the corners with a soft smile. “What was it?”
“I’m not telling.”
The crowd raises a chorus of cheers and boos and whoops and hollering, but I shake my head, laughing and adamant.
