“This is the beginning, not the end,” I said.
Veronica held Weston’s tassel, the corners of her mouth cautiously turning upward. I wasn’t sure how much of our conversation she had heard, but she could see Weston was in an exponentially better mood.
“Don’t forget this,” she said, fastening it onto the top button of his cap.
“Everything okay then?” Peter asked. When Weston nodded, Peter jingled his keys. “Let’s roll. The grandparents are waiting.”
Weston rode with his parents to the high school, and I rode with mine. The Gates and the Alderman families met in the parking lot, and Weston and I walked toward the vocal room while our parents met Weston’s grandparents in the auditorium.
Once inside, Weston chatted with his baseball and football buddies, holding my hand, while I listened to the excited banter of everyone else filling the room. Seniors hugged, and some of the girls dabbed their eyes with tissue, careful not to smear their mascara. Everyone was happy, maybe the happiest I’d ever seen them.
Mrs. Pyles approached me with her signature beaming smile and bright blue eyes. “Look at you!” she said. “Are you nervous?”
“Not really,” I said.
“You’re going to be one of the first ones to walk.”
“Oh. Will they say Alderman?”
“I think so.”
I hadn’t thought about that. It might be weird for so many to hear the name Erin Alderman over the PA when the Erin Alderman they knew had passed away.
“Would you rather them say Easter? I can let them know.”
“Maybe you could ask them to say Erin Easter Alderman?” I said, not sure if that was the right thing to do either.
“You bet.” Mrs. Pyles winked. “I’ll just go take care of that now.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
Before she could get too far, I tugged on her cardigan. She turned and then stiffened as I gave her a hug. It was unexpected but not unwelcome.
“For everything. Thank you.”
She hugged me back. “You’re welcome, sweet pea. I’m just so darn happy for you.” After a sweet grin, she spun on her heels and continued to the auditorium.
Brendan, Brady, Micah, and Andrew stood together in the corner of the room. Brady’s eyes were no longer swollen, but the bruising was still obvious with purple splotches that had just begun to turn yellow in a few spots. I figured all traces of his run-in with Weston would vanish within a couple of weeks.
The senior class adviser, Mrs. Hunter, could barely be seen in the crowd, but her voice boomed across the room. “Okay, all! Time to line up!”
Just as we’d practiced on Friday morning, all eighty-four members of our senior class somehow organized themselves into alphabetical order without much confusion. The exciting hum grew louder as we settled into our places. Brady was just five spots away from me, but it was easy to pretend he wasn’t there. With Kiki Abrams on one side of me and Charlena Arnt on the other, I was kept occupied with conversation.
Kiki gingerly patted the corner of her eye. “I can’t believe I’m so emotional. I didn’t think it would bother me, and all I’ve done today is cry.”
“Not me,” Charlena said. “Get me the hell out of here.”
I smiled, glad to hear I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
The band began to play, and the room quieted down. Kiki followed Mrs. Hunter through the double exterior doors. The sun was already hot, beating down on us, but it felt like liberation to me. We walked in a line down the south sidewalk to the lobby entrance of the auditorium. The line circled around until we were all inside the glorious air-conditioning, and then we waited again for our cue to walk inside.
I looked for Weston, and once our eyes met, he waved at me and winked. I waved back, feeling strange to be around so many of our classmates without him near me.
Mrs. Hunter and Coach Morris swept open the doors, and we walked down the aisle to the front six rows that had been roped off for us. Before I sat in the front row, I saw Sam’s and Julianne’s hands poking up from the sea of heads, waving to me. I waved back and took my seat.
A few moments later, a familiar voice whispered in my ear, “Hi, gorgeous. What are you doing later?”
Immediately, I felt at ease. Weston was sitting right behind me.
“Whatever you’re doing,” I whispered back.
He touched his lips to the skin just behind my ear, and then I could hear him settling back into his seat.
“So cute,” Kiki said with a knowing smile.
Principal Bringham was introduced, and after a lot of talking by a lot of people, our school song, and the speeches given by the valedictorian and salutatorian, the superintendent and principal took their places. With a microphone in his hand, Coach Morris headed toward the sound booth in the back of the auditorium, getting ready to call names. I stood with the first row of students, and we lined up at the base of the stairs leading to the stage.
“Laura Kathryn ‘Kiki’ Abrams,” Coach Morris’s voice called over the PA.
The crowd erupted into applause with several people yelling various cheers. For half a second, I wondered if the room would get awkwardly silent after my name was called, but the thought didn’t have enough time to linger.
“Erin Easter Alderman.”
After a short pause that was clearly surprise at the name that had been called, the room broke into applause, and both Sam and Weston stood to yell for me.
“Way to go!” Sam said.
Julianne snapped a dozen pictures.
“Woo! Erin!” Weston called. “Good job, babe!”
I climbed the stairs, shook Principal Bringham’s hand, and then crossed the stage to the superintendent. I shook with my right hand and took my diploma with my left. Chairs were lined up in rows toward the back of the stage, and I took my place next to Kiki.
“Charlena Nicole Arnt,” Coach Morris called.
The crowd erupted again.
One by one, the names were called, students walked across the stage, and then they took their seats. When it was Weston’s turn, my small cheers were drowned out by his football and baseball teammates. He took his seat behind me, and once again, he leaned up to kiss me—this time, on the cheek.
As each name was called, there were more empty seats in the reserved section. My throat began to tighten, and my eyes began to burn. The emotion surprised me. I had been counting down the days for this moment. But it wasn’t bittersweet or even relief. It was everything I had ever felt from kindergarten to that moment, all at once. Every memory, every smile, every tear, every disappointment, every victory was piling on top of me under the bright stage lights.