“It was beautiful.” Yara smiled and hugged me too. “I’m so proud of you and Ari and everyone. This was important.”
“Thanks.” I felt my heart swell with relief. “I couldn’t have done without you two. The subject was tough. You guys made it easier to work through.”
“You should enter it into those film festivals you were telling me about,” Yara said. “This needs to be bigger than just a student screening, you know?”
“Definitely.” Ari grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Your work will make survivors feel heard. I’ve told my story in text, but something about the screen is different. Hearing the words spoken out loud it hits different.”
I nodded, completely understanding what she meant. Seeing survivors recount their story while looking into the camera felt intimate in ways words on a paper could never communicate.
“Emelia,” my mom interrupted. The girls stepped back with small waves as they gave my mom space to greet me. Dad was close behind her with an almost identical smile of pride.
“Beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” Mom said.
“Nicely done,” Dad said simply.
“Thanks for coming you two.” I sighed, feeling on cloud nine at making them proud of me. Last year, their faces, when they talked about what I’d done in the stadium, were unbearable. Now, I could make up for that.
Mom’s hug was tight and whispered into my ear, “Whatever you do, I love you. I hope you know that. Always and forever.”
My throat was tight, but I willed myself to refrain from shedding tears yet. I still had an hour of mingling ahead of me. The room came alive with conversation around us. My classmates were as excited as I was to be done. Some spoke with a few alumni who Professor Francis introduced at the beginning of the screening.
Once I grabbed a drink, one of the alumni, a woman named Callie Fields, tapped my shoulder. “You’re Emelia Harrison, right?” She was long-limbed and wore her curls in a loose bun. Her light brown skin looked beautiful in the yellow dress she wore. “Your project was the documentary?”
I nodded and forced myself to speak like a regular human even though I felt like a huge pile of nerves. “That’s me. And feel free to call me Emmy. Everyone does.”
“Emmy.” She nodded. “I love every second of the project. Are documentaries what you’re hoping to do after graduation?”
“Definitely,” I said. “Well, that and horror. Maybe a combination of both someday.”
Her grin widened. “I’m a huge horror fan myself. I look forward to seeing that progression in your career. In the meantime, do you think you’d be interested in an internship? I run a small studio, and we’re developing a documentary on women in STEM. We could use a PA who knows her way around a camera and how to research.”
I wanted to squeal and scream yes. Instead, I kept my composure because that’s what growth looked like. No sudden bursts of emotion… At least, not in public.
“That would be amazing!” I nodded. “I’d love to help.”
Callie dug into her purse and offered me her business card. She asked for mine in return, but I didn’t have one so had to settle for scribbling my name and number on a scrap sheet of paper. When we said our goodbyes, I allowed myself I muffled scream. My mini-celebration was interrupted by Yara and Ari. Yara had a bouquet of purple flowers in her hands. The flowers looked vaguely familiar, like the ones I’d seen in Dakota’s row at the greenhouse.
“Oh.” I accepted the bouquet once Yara handed it to me. “Thank you. Who are these from?”
Yara shrugged. “Some delivery guy left it for you. There’s a note.”
My browed wrinkled, and I plucked the small note from the flowers. Ari and Yara flanked me on both sides.
“We’re very nosy friends,” Ari apologized with no intention to leave my side. “Especially when it comes to romantic lives.”
“You’ll have to get used to it.” Yara leaned on my shoulder as she peered down at the letter.
I laughed, glad to have people to share happy moments with again.
Dakota’s handwriting was slanted but easy to read. My tears threatened to spill once more when I read his words. Yara offered me a tissue while Ari held onto the bouquet as I wiped my cheeks.
Sorry I couldn’t be there. I know you killed it though. Next time I see you, we’ll celebrate. For now, just know I’m thinking about you, I’m thankful for you, and I can’t wait for what’s ahead for both of us. Thank you for listening. Thank you for being you.
Indisputably yours,
Dakota
Chapter 37
