"He asked," Talia says. "Twice."
The group moves toward the fountain. Addison is already there in his suit and crooked tie, with the posture he can't turn off even on a lawn in June. He's talking to a parent, but his eyes track the group as we approach.
Talia reaches him first and straightens his tie. Her hand stays on the fabric, adjusting. Addison lets her.
"You're hopeless," she says.
"I've been told."
"By me. Repeatedly."
"And yet the tie persists."
She drops her hand and steps back.
Genny is beside them, champagne in hand, her gown folded over her arm with the precision of someone who folds things for a reason.
"Coach," she says. "Congratulations on the season."
"Congratulations on graduating, Genny."
She asks him something about the incoming recruiting class. His answer runs half a second too long.
Genny's chin lifts. Addison's shoulders square to hers.
Talia glances over, then turns to Declan.
Genny looks down at her champagne. Amusement curves her mouth before she can hide it.
A parent approaches Addison with an outstretched hand, and the moment breaks. Addison turns to the parent. Genny looks down at her champagne. Her fingers slide along the stem of the glass. The sun is bright and the lawn is crowded.
"PHOTO," Zoë announces. "Everyone. Now. In front of the fountain. I am not asking."
She herds us into place. Adrian and Clara. Declan and Talia. Gio and Zoë. Genny. Maya, Dante, and me. Ten people on a patch of grass with the university behind us and the sun overhead, gowns draped over arms and caps held or lost or stabbed with bobby pins.
"Closer," Zoë says. "Genny, move left. Adrian, stop making that face. Declan, that counts as a smile, I'll allow it."
"This is my smile," Declan says.
"It's terrifying," Clara says.
"Thank you."
I'm between Maya and Dante, Maya's hand on my waist and Dante's arm across my shoulders. Their weight pins me in place for the flash.
"Lean in," Maya says to Dante. "You look like you're posing for a mugshot."
"This is how I take photos."
"Like a man being processed by the state?"
"A man with good posture."
"Same thing."
Zoë hands her phone to a passing parent. The photo is taken. More phones come out. Multiple angles. Zoë directs two more.
"One more," Gio says. "Everybody make a stupid face."
