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ONE
Barbi
Kayeand I twirl around Carmen, our graduation gowns billow in the light breeze. It’s a chilly San Francisco day, but the sun is doing its best to burn away the morning fog from the Bay.
A group of co-graduates stands off to the side, shaking bottles of champagne before popping the corks. Fizzy foam shoots into the air, and they guzzle what remains in the bottle. We made it through four long years at UCSF and are ready to party.
Carmen stands silently in her cap and gown, watching us celebrate. She should be as happy as we are, but something weighs on her. Kaye and I do our best to lift her spirits.
Today is for celebrating. No frowns allowed.
“We did it!” Kaye shouts triumphantly, lifting her arms overhead in celebration.
I pull Kaye close while grabbing onto Carmen’s graduation gown. There’s no way she’s escaping this post-graduation hug.
“Yes, we did.” Jubilation fills my voice.
Kaye grabs Carmen’s hands, trying to get her to join in the dancing, but Carmen only has eyes for the motorcade parked at the curb.
“What’s wrong?” I prop my hands on my hips.
She looks like someone killed her puppy.
“Come on… We have to celebrate.” I grab her, spinning her around. “Dance with meee!” I shout over the cheers of all our fellow graduates.
Ignoring Carmen’s hesitation, I join Kaye and shout at the top of my lungs. Our fellow graduates hoot and holler as they spill out onto the street, heading toward their celebrations with family and friends. Their exhilaration is overpowering—but it doesn’t reach Carmen. Everyone’s excited.
Everyone except our friend.
Carmen shifts on her feet, looking sheepish. “Ladies, I have to bow out.” Her shoulders slump and that frown remains. There’s more. Hesitation and apprehension thread through her downturned expression.
“Bow out of graduation night? But we’ve been planning this night for months. You can’t bow out.” Kaye’s lower lip pushes out in a pout.
I’m right there with her. After months of planning? How can Carmen possibly back out?
“I’ve been summoned.” Carmen gestures toward the motorcade, as if it explains everything.
But it explains nothing. Carmen’s father is some sort of bigwig in Nicaragua. She comes from a wealthy and powerful family, but why would he snatch her up now when he didn’t even bother to attend graduation?
Nothing is that time sensitive.
“That’s Father flexing hispaternalmuscles.” The sadness in Carmen’s voice is a palpable thing.
“Down with the patriarchy!” Kaye and I shout the feminist slogan at the motorcade.
The crowd around us echoes the words, not understanding the context.
Not caring.
Carmen lifts her shoulders to her ears, looking like she desperately wants to disappear. “Ladies, I wish I could stay, but I can’t ignore this summons.”
“Don’t spoil tonight.” Kaye takes Carmen’s hands and pleads with her. “We’ve been planning this for ages.”
My brows bunch as I scan the motorcade. “He couldn’t give you one night?” More than Kaye, I read the situation and understand the message. Her father is an asshole.
“Doesn’t look like it.” She’s defeated. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t let him steal your dreams or extinguish your light.” I take her hands in mine, lending what support I can. “You’re meant for more than marriage and babies.” I fold Carmen in a hug, wondering if this is the last time we’ll see her.
