The Absurdity of Fairy Tales

eighteen

..

The curtain is calling, my darlings,

And I think it's time I let you go.

This world is for the living,

And right now, I'm so alive.

..

Before I know it, it's graduation day and I'm sitting in the auditorium in a blue gown. Del's beside me, clutching my hand tightly with her lip caught between her teeth. I can't quite decide if she's excited or just jittery, but I keep squeezing her hand back. Nolan, sitting on her other side, is tasked with elbowing her when the speed of her bouncing knee goes sonic.

Nick's two rows behind me, Cal on his left and Eli and Micah a couple seats away. Unfortunately, we're not allowed to change seats, so Nick and I can't talk—or, because this is an 'important official event', fall back on our usual pastime of making stupid faces at each other from across the room. But I make do with sneaking looks at him over my shoulder between clapping for the newly graduated. Right now, he's laughing at whatever Cal's telling him, head thrown back and hand over his mouth to keep quiet. I can't tell what they're talking about, but considering the way Nick's laughing and Cal's smirking, it's probably some embarrassing story about me. Great. He knows most of them already, but still.

"He really does love you, you know," Delilah whispers into my ear as a teacher ushers our row up to the stage, following my eyes back to Nick.

"I know," I say back, because I do know, I really do. I know he loves me, and I also know this: "I love him too."

She smiles warmly as the line moves forward. Now I'm near the front of the line, four people away from being called up. My palms start to sweat, but I'm not nervous—I'm more excited than anything else. Before, when I was stuck in the black hole of myself, I couldn't imagine any kind of future. I hated even the idea of having one. But now, standing in the auditorium with my classmates and family and friends, all these people I care about, suddenly my future—the one that stretches on for miles and miles—seems so clear and within reach.

Nolan's up now—Nolan Kennedy, going to U Chicago for pre-law—leaving Delilah at the front of the line. He swaggers up to the stage and accepts the principal's handshake and his diploma with an honest-to-God grin, not his usual half-smirk, and walks offstage with a bow toward the crowd.

Then the principal calls out, "Delilah Kimura, going into the University of San Francisco's esteemed music program," and Del's walking up those stairs and clacking across the stage. She accepts her diploma with a bright smile, and when she faces the audience, she's met with loud applause—a large percentage of the Rigas clan is in attendance today, after all. I clap along with them. Cal shouts, "WOO, GO DELILAH!" at the top of her very impressive set of lungs, and Nick puts his fingers into the corners of his mouth and whistles loudly. Both of them earn annoyed looks from the teachers. Del curtsies toward her admirers, laughing, and exits the stage gracefully.

And then I'm called up.

I take a deep breath and start up the stairs carefully. Don't trip, don't trip. Jesus, Landin, why'd you have to wear heels? Somehow, miraculously, I don't trip, and make it to the principal in one piece. She smiles and offers her hand. I accept it and say, "thanks."

She nods back at me in welcome, and I turn away from her to face the crowd. A smaller burst of applause reaches my ears, despite the applauders' heroic efforts; my grandmother, smiling up at me with pride, is clapping so hard I fear she'll break something, and Nick's parents and my friends are all clapping just as loudly.