I reach the long line of students just as “Pomp and Circumstance” starts. Mr.Allen, the man who nearly failed me in physics and my favorite teacher, shakes his head at my entrance. My classmates’ attention swivels my way, but I stay focused on Mr.Allen because I know, without looking, that Yumi is one of the people watching me.
“Call off the hounds, Fred,” Mr.Allen jokingly shouts to our vice principal. “Noelle Breland has decided to grace us with her presence, after all.”
“I love the drama, what can I say?” I shrug, continuing past him toward the front of the line, where theBnames are preparing to walk on. As I take my spot behind Jasper Bondi, I decidedly ignore the eyes trained on me.
It used to feel like there was a magnetic force that drew me and Yumi together. I could be in a crowded room, talking to friends, unaware of Yumi’s presence, and we’d still somehow drift toward each other until we were back to back, her laugh blending into mine. That same force still exists, now flipped on its axis from attraction to repulsion.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. But it is.
Chapter 3
Magical Things, Patiently Waiting
I take my place atthe podium, drawing my speech out of my sleeve and placing it in front of me. The ink is blurred with my sweat, but I’ve rehearsed these words countless times. I find the scaffolded camera setup and wave to my dad before starting.
“Good morning, Sparrowhill faculty, esteemed guests, and, of course, my fellow graduates,” I say into the mic, pausing for the obligatory applause. “First, let me offer my congratulations on surviving four long years of group projects, cafeteria meat loaf, and PE with Mrs.Waters.”
A wash of groans and cheers ripples across the gathered graduates. That line had been my dad’s idea.You gotta connect to them early, Noe. You need an inside joke that everyone gets—an outside joke.He was right, as he usually is, so I smile at the camera and hope he sees it.
“Receiving our diplomas is a shining example of this class’s strength, resilience. Every F in AP Calc, every second-place finish, every sacrifice, and every breakup was an opportunity to grow and learn, even if we didn’t want to. Hardship is the price of admission for maturity, and as life gets harder for us in college and beyond, I hope you remember that you are capable of withstanding it.”
When I glance up at the crowd, I don’t mean to look at Yumi.Perhaps that’s the exact thing that draws my gaze to her. She’s straightened her hair. She always does for special occasions. I personally think it looks better in its natural state, but I’ve been told that I’m not allowed to have an opinion because my favorite hairstyle (the twin dutch braids I wear now) is boring. She sits between Selena Owens and Aarnav Patel, gaze fixed firmly on her lap, and I wonder if she’s using her phone. Maybe playing a mobile game? Maybe texting someone?it’s so hot and this speech is so long lmao boooooo tomato tomato? The thought catches in my throat and I cough, accidentally blowing out the mic. The graduates in the first row cringe away from the speakers’ feedback.
“Ahem. Excuse me.” I scan my speech and find my place with a renewed sense of purpose. And a slight chip on my shoulder. “There will not always be someone to rely on. When you are alone and scared, remember that you—only you—have gotten yourself through one hundred percent of your hard days so far, and that’s a pretty incredible record.
“Instead of letting the world grind you down, face it in such a way that it sharpens you.” My eyes focus in onsharpen, written on the page in front of me. It sparks a terrible idea. And, unfortunately, like many terrible ideas, it isinsistent. I go off script. “There’s a quote,” I say, letting my eyes settle precisely where I don’t want them to: on Yumi’s bedazzled graduation cap. “By the poet Eden Phillpotts, though it’s often incorrectly attributed to W. B. Yeats, that goes, ‘The universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.’ ”
Yumi’s head whips up in surprise, her wide brown eyes locking with mine. I’m sure I look equally stunned, because I have noidea where to go from here, and my former best friend is staring directly at me for the first time in a year.
Oh my God. What am I doing?
I search my speech for a way out as my face heats to near combustion. “And, um, Sparrowhill grads, let us go forward into the world with confidence, not because it’s easy, but becauseweare strong enough and sharp enough to carve a path despite the obstacles in our way. Thank you, and congratulations.”
I duck my head, crumpling my speech and shoving the paper back up my sleeve. Rehearsing it in the comfy echo chamber of my bedroom, I felt powerful. But exposed by daylight, especially with my addition at the end, my words feel juvenile. Ineffectual. Foolish. See-through.
As I race off the stage, people clap like it was a good speech. And maybe to them, that’s what it seemed like. But I know Yumi saw it for what it really was: a category-five crashout.
For the rest of the ceremony, I feel the intensity of her stare boring a hole right through the back of my undecorated cap.
We parade out of the stadium, rivulets of sweat causing my graduation gown to cling to my skin like plastic wrap. Between the way it sticks to the backs of my legs, the chaos of the crowd, and the phone vibrating in my dress pocket, I am quickly hurtling toward a nervous breakdown.
I reach for my zipper, but the Arizona sun has rendered the pull tab too hot to hold. So, like any normal, well-adjusted person, I stop right there, under the arch of the football stadium. My sudden halt forces the sea of newly minted grads to part aroundme as I fumble beneath my gown. Once I’ve liberated my phone from my dress pocket, I bring the screen close to my face and shield it with my hand.
“Watch yourself, Noelle.” Mr.Allen’s hands settle onto my shoulders, steering me off the path and onto the dry grass. “Don’t want you to be the first person trampled to death on school property,” he says, clapping me twice on the back before walking away.
Under any other circumstances, I would regret letting that be our last interaction, but as my notifications come into focus, I can’t bring myself to care.
MISSED CALL [now]
Unknown Number
VOICEMAIL [now]
1 New Voice Message
EMAIL [now]
Adventureverse Casting—URGENT
