11. Caps, Gowns, and Hearts

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Everyone in life strives to accomplish something. Whether it's to get a good job like me, become famous like Riya, or make it through high school having slept with most of the senior boys like Chandini, every single person has something that they want to accomplish. It's why we behave the way that we do.

But when that goal is accomplished, then what's left? Do we find a new one? Do we try and make our first goal better? I know some people just sit on the couch, dust their hands, and congratulate themselves without thinking of their next move. As much as I hate to say it, Chandini might be one of those people. 

I have that feeling of near completeness as I adjust the long, silky black gown that loosely clings to my body. It's wide and airy and I'm glad that I didn't listen to Riya and wore pants underneath. My heart thumps louder than the drums of the band practicing behind me and there's a faint ringing in my ear. My palms were drenched and I'm picking at my newly painted nails. 

"Stop that." Riya slaps my hand. She hands me my cap. "Why are you nervous?"

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe it's because I have to give a speech in front of the whole school?!" I refrain from shouting. My heart constricts suddenly, and I wince. "Why did I agree to be valedictorian?"

"Because you're smart?" Riya laughs. "And it'll look good on your record."

"That's what they all say."

"You've never seen your record, Meera."

"My point exactly."

Riya scowls. She's never liked it when I talk back to her as if she's the older one in our relationship. A part of me wishes that her flight wasn't delayed by a few weeks so that I wouldn't have to listen to her mothering right when I'm at my most anxious phase, but another part of me is grateful that she's here. Had I been alone, I probably would have pissed my pants more than once and most likely while I was on stage. 

Professor Hadley skitters up to me. He constantly takes out a handkerchief to wipe his glossy forehead and looks around the stage hurriedly. 

"Are you ready, Meera?" He asks. "Do you have your speech prepared?"

"Yes, Professor." I smile. "You've checked it over for me three times already."

"I know," Professor Hadley looks around the stage again. "I'm just hoping that this goes without a hitch. We have all of our patrons here, you know?"

"Patrons?"

"Yes. Our sponsors," Professor Hadley chatters nervously. "Madame deLarke, Franz Gutenburg, Ezra Agent-!"

"Ezra Agent?" I interrupt. My blood runs cold. "He's here too?"

"Of course." Professor Hadley frowns. "He's our biggest sponsor for our tech branch. Why wouldn't he be here?"

"Oh...I don't know." I shrug, hoping that my face doesn't give away any of my feelings. I'm torn between Ezra's appearance and I'm not sure if I should lose myself in the warm blush that begins to rise in my veins or coldly brush the butterflies away. 

Professor Hadley leaves me to go help coordinate the band and I'm left alone again, lost in my thoughts. I think back to a week or so ago, when I met Ezra and his sister, Aceline, at the hospital. Aceline had mentioned that he'd talked about me at home, and I've been continuously thinking about what he could have said about me. Had they been laughing at me behind my back? No, she said he called me pretty. Pretty? I scoff and examine my plain straight hair and soft jaw. Where did he see something pretty?

Maybe Aceline thought I was another girl, I reason. There are plenty of people named Meera. He could have been talking about one of those...it can't be me. 

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