It finally came. Graduation day. Since my last name is Clark, I sat in the middle, with the rest of the C’s. On either side of me sat two girls, they seemed to know each other since they were talking through me. Which was really annoying since the seat next to mine was empty so they had to shout. Peter, of course, sat with the F’s. Shari would have sat right in front of me, except she was valedictorian so she was sitting up front with the faculty in her fancy purple robes, her pert little nose buried in her commencement speech. She’d been lipsynching it obsessively for the past week and a half. I’d offered to listen but she refused, saying she didn’t want to spoil it for me. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I planned to get in some Candy Crush during most of the ceremony.
I turned my head back to stare at the crowd. Ray, my dad, sat in the bleachers along with the other parents. He waved and I waved back. He beamed proudly. Shari’s family was in full attendance. As was Dava, since god forbid, Shari and I share a special occasion without her barging in, just so she can make the conversation all about her when we talk about it over drinks.
My phone buzzed and I got a text. I looked down and sure enough, it was from Shari.
NERVOUS?
Y WUD I B?
I KNOW HOW BADLY YOU GET STAGE FRIGHT : -(
UR THE 1 WIT D SPEECH!!! I thumb typed her back. My job was easy. Get up there. Grab a scroll. Shake someone’s hand. Then leave. Nobody but Ray would be looking at me. They'd all be looking at their own kids. Even if I tripped over my own feet and took a swandive off the stage, nobody would notice or care.
OH, RIGHT, DUH! DO YOU SEE MY BOYFRIEND? :-)
WICH? DERS BIN SO MANY :-/
MY PIPING HOT NY PIZZA BOY OF COURSE!!! =P
I looked back and studied the crowd. No Enrique. I was getting ready to break the bad news to her when HE showed up and plopped into the seat next to me.
Angel Clare. A preacher’s son and the man of my dreams. Angel was the perfect name for him. He had the face of an angel, and the body of a soccer hooligan. Which is exactly my type. Don’t judge. I’d loved him from afar since freshman year, when we were cast together as the leads in Our Town. Remember how just a few seconds ago you learned I have crippling stage fright? Yeah. I fought for that part and performed in flawlessly. I had to. I needed to follow a script just to talk to Angel Clare at all, since the splendor of his big brown eyes and his farmboy shoulders rendered me a quaking nonverbal wreck. But the rehearsals scored me a few chaste visits (complete with milk and cookies) in the apartment he shared with three equally pious roommates. That just goes to show you the depths of my devotion. And now, by some magical quirk of the alphabet, we’d be trapped in folding metals chairs for the next three hours with our legs pressed together.
Screw Candy Crush. Something a lot sweeter just showed up.
“How’s it going, Fannie?”
He remembered my name after all these years? Breathe, Fannie, breathe. “Great. And you?”
He gave me a swaggering smile. “I can’t complain. So, you have any big plans for after graduation?”
I smirked. “Well, I was just offered a pretty sweet editing job over at Seattle Independent Publishing…”
“That’s great,” he said, without giving me a chance to tell him I intended to turn it down. “It's good to know where I can look you up. I’m hopping on a plane tomorrow and flying to Brazil.”
“Brazil?” I said weakly.
“Yes, my dad is doing some missionary work out there, so I’m taking some time off before medical school to go help him out.”
“You’re going to medical school?” I echoed again, hoping my brain would kick in before he mistook me for a parrot.
“I haven’t picked the school yet, but I’ve been accepted into a few. Some are around here, some on the east coast...” He stared at me pointedly.
“Oh,” I said.
So this was it. Just as I was twisting up the courage to talk to Angel Clare, he was leaving forever.
I looked over at Shari, rehearsing her speech for the billionth time, and wondered how it was that some people have all the luck and misfits like me were plagued with disappointment and cursed with nonstop misfortune.
“Have dinner with me,” Angel Clare said.
I whipped my head around to see who he was talking to. I was certain it had to be one of the two chatterboxes surrounding us. But when I looked at him, his eyes met mine. “Have dinner with me,” he repeated, as if to remove all doubt.
“You want to have dinner with me? Are you serious?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, of course not. I’d never ask you to dinner, except as a joke. Unless if by some miracle you’d say yes. In which case I’m very serious.”
I started to hyperventilate. “You want to have dinner with me? Tonight?”
“Well, I can’t very well have dinner with you tomorrow, can I?”
Not unless he hogtied me and snuck me onto the plane in his carry-on luggage. It was a scary thought. I’d been spending too much time around Christian Gray.
“I’m crazy about you, you know," he said. "I’ve been trying to come up with an excuse to talk to you since freshman year.”
I made a strangled little laugh. “It’s a little late in the game, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “This is the only way I could work up the courage. After all, if you’d slapped me across the face, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about running into you on campus.”
“Me? Slap you?” I was tempted to slap myself just then, to convince myself this wasn’t a dream. “I’m supposed to have dinner with my dad.”
“Oh, course. Family’s in town—“
“It’s ok, I'll ask him for a raincheck,” I said, texting Ray furiously. “He’ll understand. He wants grandchildren--” I turned as bright scarlet as the red flags that last statement must have raised in Angel's mind. I would have backpedaled and explained that I only said that because I haven’t dated in so long that my dad is starting to get the wrong idea about my constantly sponging off Shari and wearing her clothing all the time, had I not realized that wouldn't make me sound any less creepy.
Fortunately Angel smiled. “You are so funny. And cute and nice. There’s never a dull moment when you’re around.”
My blush reddened. Angel Clare thinks I’m cute. “You really think I’m nice?”
“You’re the nicest girl I know. And you’ve got character. All the girls I’ve dated are so boring compared to you. I should have asked you out ages ago, but I was petrified you’d say no.”
The very thought made me laugh uncontrollably. “You thought I’d say no? To you?” I slapped his knee and laughed so hard I barely noticed the phone in my lap was buzzing.
“You’d better get that,” Angel said. “It’s probably your dad. Texting you back about the change in plans.”
I raised the phone between us in case Ray typed something crude. But it wasn’t from Ray at all. It was from Shari.
HOLY CRAP! LOOK WHO IS ON THE STAGE!!!
A sick feeling spread through my torso. I didn’t have to look, a part of me already knew what I’d see. But I decided to look anyway.
Christian stood out, quite literally, on the stage in a custom-made gray suit, his copper highlights glistening. A silver tie knotted about his neck. He was starting right at me and Angel, his head swaying almost unperceptively from side to side. His hand at his side twitching every so softly.
“Hey, look,” Angel said with complete innocence. I think that’s billionaire philanthropist mogul Christian Gray.”
And that’s when the dream morphed into a nightmare.
