The Sweetness of Salt(4)

“Christmas, Arlene,” Dad’s voice sounded far away. “The two of them were just here at Christmas.”

“Actually, it was last Christmas,” I said.

Dad had a way of blocking out a lot of things when it came to Sophie. Time was one of them. I didn’t blame him, though. Sophie put him through a lot of crap whenever she was here. I probably would’ve figured out a way to block it out too.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter…” Mom’s voice drifted off the way it did when she had stopped talking to anyone in particular. She turned around suddenly and put her hand on my knee. “Oh, Julia. We’re just so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“And I know I’ve already said this a million times,” Dad said, looking at me in the rearview mirror again, “but I’m thrilled that you’re going to my alma mater.”

Wellesley had been my first choice for college and I’d been accepted, but the University of Pittsburgh had offered me a full ride. There was no way I was going to put up a fuss about not attending Wellesley, which had only offered partial scholarships and would have required Mom and Dad to pay thousands of extra dollars a year. Especially since after Pittsburgh, there would be law school.

“I know,” I said. “It’s gonna be great.”

Someone in the line of cars began to honk, which sparked a flurry of more honking. I glanced at the digital clock above the radio. Ten thirty-nine. I was supposed to have been in line at ten thirty. The ceremony was going to start at eleven.

“I gotta go,” I grabbed my speech and shoved the door open. “I’ll just walk the rest of the way.”

“In the eyes!” Dad yelled, using one of his attorney mantras. “Remember to look ’em right in the eyes! And don’t let ’em see you sweat!”

I broke into a run as I spotted the line of yellow gowned students ahead.

There was no turning back now.

It was showtime.





chapter


3


I led my class out of the auditorium as the last stomachache strains of the orchestra faded behind us. My speech had been flawless. Not a single uh or um. No unnecessary pauses, no word stumbles. It was like I’d gone on autopilot. From start to finish. The crowd had approved too, cheering wildly when I finished. A few people even jumped up and pumped their fists in the air. One of them had probably been Sophie. I sat back down in my chair on stage, folded my hands, and felt my stomach plummet.

We were graduated. Done with Silver Springs High. Forever.

It was a slightly amazing feeling. I slowed as the foyer came into view, trying to absorb it.

“Jules!”

My heart flopped like a fish as Milo walked up to me. “Hey!”

For a split second, I wondered what he would do if I buried my nose into the front of his gold gown. “Hi,” I said.

“I tried to find you before, to wish you luck,” Milo said, “but I didn’t see you.”

“Oh, I was late. I was kind of hiding from Mrs. Soprano, and then I had to get in line…”

Wait. How were we talking like this all of a sudden? We hadn’t exchanged this many words since…well, since that horrible night at prom.

Milo nodded. “You did great,” he said. “Your speech, I mean. It was incredible.”


“You think so?”

“The Auden quote was perfect.”

“That was for you,” I wanted to say. “I researched all the scary truth tellers until I found a quote that you might notice.”

“Yeah, my dad found that,” I said. “He loves Auden.”

“It was brilliant,” Milo said. “Especially right at the end like that. It really made it stand out. Gave everyone something to chew on, you know?” There were little specks of gold in the green of his eyes, and his hair had just been cut. A tiny dot of dried blood sat just under his nose, where he had cut himself shaving.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll make sure to tell my dad.”

People were pushing past us on all sides, trying to get outside. Off to the right, Melissa Binsko, who had just gotten a boob job and was voted Most Likely to End Up on a Reality Show, was screaming and clutching a gaggle of girls. But at that moment I was all alone, standing in front of Milo. “Please,” I thought to myself. “Please, Milo.”

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but then his eyes shifted as the girls in the corner squealed again. “Okay, well, I’ll see you around,” he said. And then, “Hey, Melissa! Melissa! Wait up!”

I stood there for half a second, just blinking.

“Julia!” Milo’s vacancy was filled suddenly by Zoe and Sophie and my parents, all of whom draped themselves over me. “Oh, Julia, congratulations! Your speech was perfect. We’re so proud of you. Look who’s here, Julia! Look who it is! It’s Sophie! She came all the way down from Vermont just to see you. We need pictures! Come outside where the light is good. Where’s the camera? Who has the camera?”

I could hear their voices, see their bright faces bobbing up and down like so many buoyed lights. But the only thing I felt as they dragged me outside onto the front steps and arranged me like a paper doll in their arms was that I was moving farther and farther away from the only person I wanted to be with at that moment; and who, once again, had disappeared right in front of my eyes.