“What does he call her?”
“Yips. Like a yippy puppy. Cute, but annoying.”
“Bacon and Yips. They’re adorably ruthless.”
“Do you see him?” I squinted into the sun, searching the sea of caps and gowns for Tyler. It was a beautiful day, and therefore graduation was outside. It was the scenario I’d initially been worried about, but now it was perfect because Brian and the Belkes were far from welcome, and we needed the extra ticket for Liam. Tyler had assured me Liam could get in either way, but I was glad this worked out easier.
“Found him,” Liam said, grinning.
I looked where he was pointing, and— “Oh!” Tears sprang to my eyes and I grabbed Liam’s arm. “His cap. It…”
“It’s for you, Firefly.”
“4 Jen Jen” was boldly painted on top of his cap.
“I can’t believe he did that. I’ve barely even been here for him all these years.”
“You’vealwaysbeen there for him. And now he knows it.”
“He’s always looked up to you,” my mom said from my other side. “Even as a baby, he lit up when he saw you, and from the moment he could move, he just wanted to follow his big sister.”
“I used to carry him everywhere like he was my little doll—my teddy bear. And now he’s all grown up.”
My mom dabbed at her eyes.
“No crying, Mom. Don’t get me started.”
She laugh-cried, and my dad grumbled, then we settled as the speeches started. The commencement speaker was anengineer I’d never heard of, but she gave a beautiful speech about letting go to move forward. I crossed my legs to see my tattoo: the infinity sign with exit ramps. Letting go to move forward.
The graduates were eventually called to walk up, and when Tyler walked across the stage I clapped until my hands stung, and Liam whistled loudly. My ears rang, but it was worth it when Ty looked right at me, his smile clear as day even from across the distance.
Being here for him waseverything. Worth everything it had taken to get here.
A few hours later, after taking pictures and spending some time on campus, we celebrated at a steakhouse.
Tyler was telling us about his job, so full of enthusiasm, when the waiter came for our order.
“We’ll have a bottle of Pinot Noir, please,” my dad said.
“Do you think one will be enough? Maybe we should get two bottles,” my mom said.
“I’m not going to have any.”
My parents both looked at me. “Even if you just have a little for a toast, one still won’t go far,” my mom said.
Liam’s leg pressed against mine under the table.
I pressed back against him, focusing on keeping the tremble out of my voice. “I’ll toast with my water. You can get as much as you want, but I’m not going to have any.”
My mom’s gaze narrowed, dropping to my chest and lower, as though she had X-ray eyes that could see through the table into my stomach, searching for the only explanation she could fathom.
“There’s no reason. I just don’t want to drink tonight.” Maybe that was a tiny cop-out, but I was fine with it.
“One bottle of Pinot Noir, please,” my dad said to the waiter.
While everyone was distracted giving their orders, Liam pulled me closer. “Proud of you, Firefly,” he whispered in my ear, sending tingles down my spine.
“Me too.”