Page 73 of Dead Boys Club

Parker laying out those three, specific words, right there at the beach… Zach’s heart skips about ten beats. Zach pushes his hands into the towel beneath him, digging his fingers into the fabric.

“I said don’t freak out,” Parker sulks, when Zach takes an uncomfortable amount of time to reply.

“No!” Zach says quickly. He shifts on the towel, turning to face Parker fully. He reaches out, sliding one hand along Parker’s arm until he can lace their fingers together. He squeezes so hard he feels Parker’s knuckles grinding together under his grip. “I mean, yeah, I think—I think I’m freaking out, like, a little, but…”

Say it say it say it say it say it, a wonderful little voice hisses in the back of his brain. The same voice that had urged him to kiss Parker that night after the play.

So, he does.

“I love you too,” Zach breathes, unable to stop the way his lips split into an incredulous smile. “I love you. Totally.”

Parker’s lips twitch into a slow smile, his cheeks flushed from more than just the balmy May air. When he kisses Zach, they go sprawling into the sand. Somewhere nearby, one of their friends wolf-whistles. Zach laughs against Parker’s mouth, and Parker throws his middle finger up in reply.

It’s perfect.

- - - - -

The days leading up to graduation slip away as easily as sand, marked with moments that shine like constellations in Zach’s memory. Zach’s mom arranges to have the night off work for the graduation ceremony. She drives him to the school, and for a quiet moment they sit together in the parking lot, his mom gripping the steering wheel and staring pointedly ahead. Zach keeps his own gaze forward and they both do their best not to blubber and cry about the milestone.

“Oh, honey,” Zach’s mom whispers, finally turning to look at him. Her smile isn’t as sad as Zach is used to seeing it. He smiles back, feeling his chin getting a little wobbly. She reaches one hand out, gripping the back of his neck, her thumb stroking beneath his ear.

“I know we went through a lot this year,” she says. Her voice is croaky with unshed tears. “I just want you to know how proud I am of you.”

Zach swallows against the lump in his throat. He twists his fingers into the fabric of his graduation gown.

“I know,” Zach says. He keeps his eyes fixed on his lap. There’s nothing more embarrassing than showing up to your own graduation covered in snot and tears. If he looks his mom in the face he’s definitely going to start bawling.

“I love you,” his mom says, and Zach has to wipe at his eyes.

By the time he gets inside, Zach has managed to choke back the flood of emotion. The ceremony takes so long. He sits in the back next to Bea—U and W, with no Vs between them. Paige and Parker are a few rows ahead of them. Isaac is somewhere near the front. Of the five of them, Isaac is called first, and Zach cheers as loud as he can; Bea cups her hands around her mouth and lets out an even louder whoo! Over the polite applause, Zach can hear Parker and Paige hooting as Isaac shuffles across the stage for his diploma.

Parker crosses the stage directly after Paige, and Zach watches him with a thrumming, live wire of a heart. Parker is alive, and graduating, and Paige stops midway across the stage so that they both have a moment together, arms around each other, waving their diplomas in the air. Bea and Zach both stand to clap and cheer.

When it’s finally his turn, Zach hears them all—Paige and Parker, Isaac, Bea, all of them shouting in the sea of students. He catches a hint of his mom somewhere in the audience, too. Parker and Isaac are hollering from somewhere in the crowd of other graduates. They try to start a chant of Will-iams, Will-iams, Will-iams, much to Zach’s mortification. Bea waits for him on the other side of the stage, at the bottom of the stairs, and she hugs him so tightly that he can barely breathe.

Afterwards, the pictures are endless. All the parents demand every combination of picture imaginable: group photos, then just the girls, then just the boys, then Paige with Alicia and Ben, who are still juniors, then Paige and George, then Parker and Paige… It’s a parade of pictures that Zach must smile through until his cheeks are sore and pink. The last picture is all of them throwing their caps into the air, grinning and laughing.

When it’s over, Bea hugs them all and cries.

“I’m so proud of you,” she says to Parker specifically, holding his face in her small hands, pressing enthusiastic kisses to each cheek.

Not a single one of them tells her that Parker graduated only because Isaac helped him cheat his way through his Physics final.

- - - - -

The week after graduation, his mom knocks gently on his bedroom door. Zach is sprawled out on his bed, a book on North American mushrooms propped open on his chest. He sits up when she enters, nudging open his bedroom door.

“Hey,” she says, barely able to contain a smile. She looks excited about something, which is a rare enough occurrence. Zach sits up, dog-earing his page and setting the book aside.

“Hi,” Zach replies, unable to stop himself from sounding a little suspicious.

“Well,” his mom says, tapping her fingers against his doorframe. “I was checking my vacation time, and I’ve got quite a bit of it saved up. Now that you’ve graduated, I thought… Maybe we could take a trip together?”

She’s smiling, one hand moving his door back and forth, like she can’t quite contain the excitement. Zach smiles back, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah. Sure. Where?”

“I already talked with Mrs. Reid about this,” his mom goes on. “I didn’t want your first time seeing Acadia to be… you know.” She makes a vague gesture with one hand, and Zach gets it. Despite all of the good that happened after the trip, the memory of Acadia is marred by fear and pain and desperation.