I can’t do this.
I can’t do this.
I can’t—
“Nico! Woohoo! Yeah!” Alex’s voice jumps out over all the other noises, including the loud voices screaming at me in my head.
Then, from behind me, Claire calls out, “Yeah, go, Nico!” And there’s a chorus of other voices too.
And somehow, my feet move. I hold tight to the railing and take the stairs one at a time.
When I reach the top step, I force my eyes up. Mr. Williams is standing there, only about ten feet away, and he’s got both of his hands tucked behind his back. He gives me a solid nod, and there’s something in his eyes that helps me somehow. I walk the few steps over to him, but as I get closer, my shaking worsens. My hands ball up into fists.
I think I’m going to puke.
“Just stand as close as you feel comfortable, Nico. No handshake. We’ll get the picture without it. Okay?”
My eyes dart back up to Mr. Williams, and he smiles knowingly at me and nods.
“Yeah, Nico!! Woohoo!” I hear Alex again, loud and clear andencouraging.
Did he tell Mr. Williams for me?
Slowly, I nod, and I step up a little closer, until I’m maybe about a foot or two away.
“Turn and smile for the photographer,” Mr. Williams instructs, and I can do that.
There’s a quick click.
“Congratulations, Nico. Ms. Cox will hand you your diploma.” Mr. Williams takes a step back, away from me, and carefully motions to his right, for me to continue across the stage to where Ms. Cox stands.
“Thank you,” I manage, and once again, I get my feet moving. Ms. Cox hands me my diploma, again with instructions that we can stand apart while taking the photo, and then I make my way off the stage to more screaming from Alex and the audience and the other students.
I can barely breathe, and my chest hurts. But god, I made it.
I made it. Somehow.
Chapter Four
Alex
“Oh,Ijustcan’tget over it. I’m so stinking proud of you.”
My mom pulls me in for yetanotherhug—probably the fifth or so since she and my grandparents found me out on the football field where the ceremony was held. I hug her back, smiling into her dark hair as I rest my chin on top of her head.
I want to thank her for everything, again. I mentioned her in my speech, but even that seems like it’s not enough. She’s been the best mom—infinitely supportive of me for, well, ever, really, even when I sort of broke her heart with the news that I wanted to go to California for college. She just took a few minutes to compose herself and then asked me what I needed to make that happen. And then, after I got accepted to Stanford on a full-ride scholarship, she added a line to her budget for travel expenses, telling me, “Don’t even argue. There’s no way I’m going to go months without seeing you. Thankfully, there are plenty of inexpensive flights from Omaha.”
I pull back and look down at her, and I chuckle and shake my head at the tears in her eyes. She just swats at my shoulder.
“Don’t laugh at me, I only cry so much—”
“—because you care,” I cut in, finishing her statement for her. She smiles up at me while wiping a tear from her cheek.
“Darn you, thinking you’re all cute.”
“Iamcute. You tell me that all the time,” I tease, but then I hug her again. “I love you, Mom.”
When she pulls back this time, she stares at me for another half second, and damn, her eyes are so filled with pride and love that it’s almost overwhelming. She pats me on the arm and then turns to my grandparents, and they start discussing our plans for the evening. We’re supposed to head to Omaha for reservations they made at some Japanese steakhouse, and I guess we have to leave pretty soon.
