58Twenty-Two: Maroon Togas
"You look beautiful," my grandfather kissed the top of my head. "I'm so proud of you."
I grinned at him, squinting with the sun in my eyes. "Will you come visit me in New York?"
"Of course!" He exclaimed. "I'll bring the whole family if I can. Just to see you for Christmas."
My sister, standing behind him rolled her eyes and faked puking. The man only had two grandchildren, but I had been deemed the favorite. It was probably my undeniable charm.
"So what's going on after the ceremony?" He wondered. "You're going out with your friends, I presume? Your parents are taking you away from them so early, you deserve to have fun tonight."
I watched my father shift his feet uncomfortably, hands shoved in his pockets. His story was that it was more convenient to move now than later in the summer. It was fishy, really, but since he and Gramps didn't have a close relationship, there weren't many explanations required.
"I am," I confirmed. "I've got to make the most of my last night in town. Sorry I can't go to dinner with you…"
"Don't worry about it, dear," the old man shrugged it off. "If I don't see you right after the ceremony before we leave, I'll call you and ask you about dorm life during the fall."
"Okay," I agreed.
"We should get to our seats." Gramps reached for my hand and grasped it, a rectangular piece of folded up paper between it, before he hugged me a final time. "Congratulations! I love you!"
"Love you," I responded as he took Clara's arm and asked her to lead the way.
My parents trailed them. I looked down at the paper in my palm, and sure enough Ulysses Grant was staring back at me, a blank frown on his face. Tittering to myself, I tucked it away in my bag, reveling at the thought of all the new things it would buy me.
"So that's them, huh?" A voice came behind me.
Turning around, I came face to face with Jet, a smile on his face, and a lei in his hands.
"The mean people taking me away tomorrow," I commented. "Yes, indeed."
He held the lei out to me—birds of the paradise all linked together. I moved my head in his direction as a signal for him to put it over me. I threw my hands around his shoulders when it was done, and pecked him on the cheek. "Thank you."
"My mom wants to take a picture of our matching togas," he told me and took hold of my hand as we began walking the short distance. "Come on, they're over here."
"Hello, Mrs. Enriquez," I greeted politely as we stepped in front of Jet's family, "Mr. Enriquez."
"Nice to see you again!" The Missus replied to me.
Mr. Enriquez finished. "Congratulations."
I looked to Jet's little sister and smiled. "Hi, Stella."
The girl stared at me, looked at my hand interlaced with her brother's, and grinned wildly before mumbling a hi.
"How about a picture of you together, huh?" Kip suggested.
I nodded. "Sure. Sounds good."
Jet snorted under his breath. The suggestion was the kind of thing he thought was extremely cheesy—a perfect pose of us together on our last day, in maroon togas, special gold tassels, and even more special sashes that classified us graduating with highest honors. Still, he threw an arm around my shoulder and gave a cocky smile when Kip pressed down on the shutter button.
He hurried them off to their seats soon after, not wanting to be around his dysfunctional family unit any longer.
"You know," he told me when they'd left, "my mom's probably going to get that framed—a memory of my only nice girlfriend."
I smiled tightly. "I'm sorry I'm such a nice girl."
He shrugged and planted a kiss on my lips. "I like it."
I stayed silent to that reply, reminded that we wouldn't have very many more moments like those.
"How was your day?" Jet wondered.
"I finished packing," I told him. "All set for tomorrow."
"She's going to be a member of the big apple society," he grinned. "Watch out, America."
"It's really happening," I mumbled.
He frowned. "Why do you seem so upset about it?"
"Because now that it's actually here," I explained, "there's no going back or chickening out. I can't think about it anymore; I can't marvel about how this is what I've wanted my whole life. How it's going to be my life. Now it is my life. That's kind of intimidating, don't you think?"
"You're going to do fine," he assured.
"Hi…Kaitlin." Jet and I both looked to my left.
There stood Brad, looking pretty uncomfortable after approaching me in the middle of conversation with Jet. Brad never acknowledged me around Jet. He didn't know if he should also say hi to Jet, or give him the cold shoulder, or what action to take.
He shifted his eyes to my boyfriend for a second. "Hey man."
Jet nodded back.
I would be the next to speak. "How's it going, Brad?"
"Good, good." He went on, "I know you're leaving tomorrow, so I figured I should come over and say goodbye now in case I don't see you for the rest of the ceremony."
I smiled at him and looked to my boyfriend. "Could you give us a minute, Jet?"
"Yeah, of course." He agreed. "Hey, I'm going to go find my seat then. Find me and Bill after for dinner at Kristy's."
"Okay," I gave him a quick kiss. "See you later."
Brad and I were silent for the first few moments, gawking and willing our eyes for the other to speak first. He didn't budge until I held my arms out for a hug. "C'mere."
My arms fastened onto his back easily. "I'm really gonna miss you, buddy."
"You don't even know," he spoke into my ear. "You're the best person I know."
"I hope you enjoy the rest of your summer," I smiled up at him. "At least one of us should have a good summer."
He sighed and hung his head. "Again, Kaitlin, I am so sorry about telling your mom that you and Jet—"
"Just forget about it," I interrupted. "It's done."
"It'll be kind of hard not to think about it," Brad returned. "When you'll be in upstate New York for the rest of your summer. Instead of here hanging out with Jet. Hanging out with me."
I shrugged. "Who knows, maybe it's better this way."
"Maybe." He chuckled. "What a story I have: losing a wonderful girlfriend to a punk rock kid, going to prom with her, sending her away from her life."
"I'm sure you'll get the girls at Stanford with that one," I replied.
He laughed again.
I hugged Brad tightly, holding back some tears, aware that it would be the last time I hugged my best friend. "I'll call you when I get there."
He took a step back and squeezed my hands. "You take care of yourself, Kaitlin Finch."
ILY Brad! Hardyharhar.
For those of you who aren't American (and those of you Americans who don't pay enough attention to know) Ulysses Grant is on the $50 dollar bill. While $50 may not buy you a lot these days, I'm sure it was a pretty cool amount to have in 1979.
Did you know that every chapter except the last two has 30 or more reads? DID YOU? Man, it sure would be nice to see something like that propagate into reviews...
Not even 30 reviews for each chapter just more reviews? You know? I'm sure at least 5 of those 30 people read these little author's notes at the end and keep IGNORING them. Perhaps today will be the day you stop ignoring me!
(Or not.)