“I love you, too.” Cameron hugged Henry tight. “Platonically, of course.”
Henry smacked him in the stomach. “Just read your damn scripts.”
Φ
There was not much to mock about this mock graduation. Henry had amassed enough people to fill up the hodgepodge of folding chairs he scrounged up and organized in the front lawn. Green and white balloons dotted the tops of chairs on the aisle. And there was an actual platform with an actual podium.
Cameron looked on in amazement, and a touch of something else. He really did have great friends.
“You ready?” Henry asked. They stood in the lobby of his building. “I’ll cue up the procession music.”
“I am seriously impressed.” Cameron pulled him into a spontaneous hug. “Thank you.”
They held each other a few seconds. So much to say but words couldn’t cover the expanse of this friendship. But they knew. They both knew.
“Don’t forget about us little people.” Henry wasn’t entirely joking.
“I’m sorry. What was your name again? Hugo?”
“Get out there.” He pushed Cameron toward the door and cued up the music.
It was the traditional, lame graduation music. Yet it wasn’t lame now that Cameron was graduating to it. As soon as he stepped onto the lawn, people applauded and cheered him onto the stage. It was a wonderful feeling to be loved. He scanned the crowd, but there was no sign of Walker.
He did a double take at the speaker. Professor Mackey sat next to him with a typed-out speech.Damn, Henry was good.
Henry took to the podium. “Today, we are celebrating a graduating class of one. Cameron Aldous Buckley made the most of his four years at Browerton. He attended classes and parties in equal measure. He made a great group of friends and an even greater group of enemies. He learned to love cheap beer.”
The audience howled with laughter. Cameron turned a mortified shade of red.
“And now, our honorary speaker. She wrote that movie that we all were obsessed with in junior high. Professor Elizabeth Mackey.”
A light applause accompanied Mackey’s ascent to the podium. Cameron clapped louder and encouraged those in attendance to do the same. Mackey sure deserved it. The second she hit that podium, she owned the entire courtyard.
“Cameron Buckley. I’ve only known you a short time, but I’m grateful that I got to have you as my student. You have the talent, intelligence, and ambition to go far in Hollywood. That, we already know.
“It’s scary when you enter the real world. It’s like turning off the highway in the middle of nowhere. Maybe there’s another road, or a dirt road, or nothing at all. But it’s up to you to forge your own path. You can ask for advice, but ultimately, it’s your road. And the good thing about this road is that it can go in any direction you want. You can turn left, turn right, turn around, get off the road completely onto another dirt road. All that freedom is scary, frankly. But eventually, you’ll look in the rearview mirror and marvel at this amazing journey you built from nothing. Enjoy the journey. Enjoy the confusion. Enjoy making mistakes. That’s how the best roads are built.”
She spoke with an urgency Cameron was not expecting. He was suddenly very aware of his heart beating, but he didn’t know why the speech was affecting him this way.
“Good luck, Cameron. Follow your own road.” Henry handed her the rolled-up diploma. Cameron crossed to her, did the grab diploma/handshake movement that was surprisingly complicated, and smiled for the cameras. His friends and his mom cheered him on. They wished him well.
“Congratulations to our graduate,” Mackey said. “Cameron Buckley.”
Cameron stood on the stage and soaked in the standing ovation. He looked out at this community that had sprung up around him, all people who cared about him. He wiped a tear from his cheek. This was supposed to be a stupid, funny “graduation.”
But there was one person missing from the crowd. Cameron searched and searched. No Walker lingering in the back. His community didn’t feel complete.
“Okay, everyone!” Henry was at the podium. “There’s lunch upstairs in our apartment.” He rubbed Cameron’s shoulder. “You need to turn your tassel to the left. You’ve graduated, man.”
Φ
His kitchen was tight with guests milling about and pouring their own drinks. It seemed that graduation ceremonies, no matter how real or fake, always brought out the worst of the weather. This spring day had switched places with a dog day of summer. Stifling humidity coated the apartment in a mist of sweat. Cameron took off his robe. He wore gym shorts and a T-shirt underneath.
“Don’t judge. This thing is like wearing a plastic bag.” Cameron tossed the robe to Henry, who put it back in its proper garment bag.
People brought up folding chairs from the courtyard and jockeyed for a seat near the air conditioner. Greg and Ethan fanned each other.
“I wish this could’ve been the real graduation,” Greg said. “Did you hear who the commencement speaker is this year? That good ole Christian senator who was caught sexting his male interns.”
