After getting drunk on good German beer and dancing with me in front of my family, Ben falls asleep and snores all night in between asking me where his organs are.
A dream book I bought him says dreams about missing body parts means you’re looking for something missing in your life. A little obvious perhaps, and I had hoped he would stop looking once we got together. Like maybe love was the missing thing in his life. But I guess he has more to achieve than just finding a boyfriend.
He starts snoring again, and I kiss his forehead before settling down next to him, squashing my head between the pillows so I can get as close as possible.
BEN
Graduation day.
Jeez. It’s finally here.
I’ve been dreading this day since freshman year. The moment real life would come and smack me in the face. Say, ‘Hey, wake up loser. It’s time to go and get a life.’
Well, I’m not scared anymore. I have a life. And I’m more than ready to move out of the frat house and be a real adult.
After the beatdown we gave Stanford in the NCAA championships, Elias was inundated with offers from pro coaches. The player Richard Kingsley eventually signed was found guilty of doping shortly after and Kingsley was available again and called Elias. But Elias signed with someone else. He didn’t like the way Kingsley dealt with the dopingthing and felt like he’d had a lucky escape—‘divine intervention’ his sister-in-law called it.
His coach is a French guy called Marcel. He matches Elias’ no-nonsense, straight-talking energy perfectly and he’s ready to go out on the Challenger tour the week after graduation. Elias won’t be graduating of course, but he can say he passed his freshman year classes at Princeton if anyone ever asks.
My brothers all gather together in our caps and gowns to take pictures before we have to split off into our majors to collect our diplomas. Elias and Evan take group pictures of us and allow us to drag them into a couple, too.
I take a few shots of Nate and Evan posing by a tree and then with their parents and Evan’s little sister. Watching them together, I can’t help feeling glad that all my old anxiety and jealousy is long-gone.
They have a very specific story and it’s unique to them. But it isn’t necessarily better than other kinds of love. All love is unique. All love is different. And all love is just as valid as the rest.
Elias squeezes my hand as my parents make their way across the lawn. They’re dressed immaculately as always, as are my brother and sister following closely behind.
“You didn’t have to come all the way out here,” I tell Sloane and Madison.
Madison scrunches her nose. “Our little brother is graduating college. Why wouldn’t we be here?”
“You guys did the whole graduating Princeton thing first.”
“So what?” Sloane shrugs.
Dad clears his throat. I can see Mom urging him forward, like they’d discussed something in the car and now he’s following through on it.
“We’re very proud, son.”
Mom gives him another shove.
“Very proud,” he repeats.
She rolls her eyes. “Benny, you graduated top of your class at Princeton!”
It feels good to hear her say that, but not as good as it might have a year or so ago. I don’t need to be impressive in the ways they hold dear, not anymore.
“Thanks, Mom. And Dad. I appreciate everything you guys have given me.”
Elias has told me I don’t need to be grateful. That the emotional tumbleweed of their parenting isn’t negated by the privilege of private school and having an Ivy League education paid for, but I know how lucky I still am. I can acknowledge my financial privilege while understanding I deserve better when it comes to affection.
Dad gives me a gift bag stuffed with green tissue paper. I tuck Grogu under my arm while I open it and Dad pretends he hasn’t seen the stuffed toy.
My heart sinks when I spot the Rolex brand on the box.
I force a smile as I say, “Wow, thank you, this is amazing.”
“A Rolex is an investment, but it’s also important to look the part when meeting with potential investors. Nothing too flashy, remember,” Dad says.
