Blackout ✓

epilogue

"DO I SMELL?" JAMIE ASKED nervously.

His black graduation robes swayed as we walked hand-in-hand along the pathway, weaving through dense clusters of people.

"Yes, you do," Jake immediately shot over his shoulder. "Like garbage."

Jake and Riley strolled ahead of us—after Krista departed to meet her family—chatting animatedly. Like them, I wore similar robes with the emerald green lapels of the Science Faculty. Riley had ruby red for the Arts.

"Stop teasing him, Jake." I stuck my tongue out at Jake before focusing on Jamie. "You smell fine."

Jake turned his head to grin cheekily at me, leading the way to the Quad—where the majority of seniors had gathered for scenic graduation photos in front of the fountain in its centre.

I knew going into the relationship that Jamie had major performance anxiety—if the precarious moments preceding his Entern presentation proved anything. But after asking about his scent and his outfit and whether he should have learnt Khmer, it was just time to bite the bullet.

"You will be fine," I consoled him quietly. "It's just my parents."

"I need to pee."

"No, you don't."

"You don't know that," Jamie shot back, clammy hand tightly squeezing my own. "This might be a warning to check my bladder health. I should pop to the bathroom—"

I whirled around and planted two hands on his shoulders, looking up into his forested eyes. Jake and Riley took the cue to keep walking, hunting for their families in the bright morning sunlight. The temperature in May wasn't helping either, pasting a sheen of sweat on Jamie's brow.

It was hard not to remember another summer day much like this, when we found each other again at the start of senior year. Jamie had come by the WISA stall to surprise me, and the Quad was flooded with students and parents exactly like today.

But that was orientation, this was graduation.

And both were beginnings.

"They will love you. Probably more than they love me," I said, dead serious.

Not because my parents didn't love me. They did. Lots. Enough to make a banner to hold up when I walked across the graduation stage later this evening—which Mom had proudly sent to the Sok group chat.

It was just that Jamie was so easy to love.

I'd fought tooth and nail not to fall for him; where was I now? Eating my words. He had the humour going for him, the intelligence, the good looks. And the height. And the motivation. And the—

I could go on and on.

Jamie had long since figured out that when I roasted him, he could safely assume I meant the opposite thing. Arrogant oaf. As if the things I had told Mom about juggling varsity football and IT Management already impressed her enough.

Wait until she found out that some investors who attended the Innovating Philanthropy conference were interested in launching Entern as a startup, contractually accelerating its growth for a minimum of three years, with a guaranteed buyout clause if Jamie ever sold his stakes. She would demand I marry him.

"You know how I was so overly selective and judgmental at the beginning of our friendship?" I reminded Jamie.

His eyes darted to mine. "Yeah."

"My parents are the opposite of that. I promise."

"Oh." Jamie paused. Then his face brightened. "Oh, thank fuck."