He steps forward and draws me into a hug. “Congratulations,” he whispers. “You did it.”
I don’t want to let go. I clutch my degree, my arms tightening around his neck. In the privacy of this embrace, everything else seems to fall away—the crowds, the noise, the anxiety, the decision I have yet to make about Oliver’s proposal. Well, his statement, really. I get this crazy vision of Drew picking me up in my graduation gown and carrying me out of here, taking me away from everything. Escaping.
But that doesn’t happen, of course. The moment is broken when his girlfriend approaches with two glasses of prosecco and a sunny expression.
“Congratulations!” I say to her, pulling out of the hug and brushing my gown down.
She beams back. “And to you! Wow! Impressive results. I’m Meg.”
At face value, she’s everything I would want for Drew. There’s an open warmth to her. Of everyone I know, Drew deserves warmth.
“Meg, this is Evie,” he says.
“Wait!” she says. “High school Evie?”
He looks uncomfortable. I scan the crowd for Oliver, who is nowhere to be seen. I hate to imagine the story Drew has given Meg.This is my former best friend who never really spoke tome after I was two hours late to her formal for secret reasons I’ve never divulged.
I wonder if he’s divulged them to her. No, why would they even have talked about me? I belong firmly in Drew’s past.
“Evie the photographer?” Meg asks. “ThePictures of Youexhibition?”
Maybe the story he gave her wasn’t all bad.
“Oh my God, weidolizedyou at my school!” she gushes. “Smashing the patriarchy, one boys’ school at a time!”
I laugh. That’s exaggerating it slightly. “It really wasn’t all me. And I’m not sure how much we really smashed.”
I think of being interviewed on the news with Oliver. I feel awkward even remembering the way that happened, and how Drew was sidelined after he’d done the lion’s share.
“Drew did all the work,” I explain hastily. “He made it happen.” I’d said so on camera, but they’d cut that bit from the interview.
“Your idea,” he reminds me.
“Good team?” Meg suggests.
Neither of us confirms or denies it before Oliver shows up, clearly irritated at encountering his nemesis. “Hello,” he says tersely. They shake hands, Oliver deliberately twisting his hand on top of Drew’s, asserting dominance, which for some reason makes me unspeakably angry. And embarrassed. “What brings you here?” he asks.
Drew throws his arm around Meg, drawing her to his side, triggering a massive smile. “This is Meg,” he says.
Oliver smiles at her. “Hello.” His tone is warm now—he can be so charming. “I’m Evie’s fiancé.”
Fiancé?I mean, yes, I’m wearing the ring, but only on trial, as we agreed.
Drew’s eyes drop to the diamond sparkling on my hand and I feel myself covering it with the certificate. He gulps his drink.
Meg’s eyes widen. “Ooh! When’s the big day?”
“We’re not rushing anything,” I explain, perhaps more quickly than I intended to. “In fact, technically—”
Oliver cuts me off. “She wants to establish her research first.”
Am I making things more difficult than they need to be? He makes it sound like I’ve taken up a PhD just to annoy him.
“Still mucking around with that camera?” he asks Drew. The condescension makes me cringe.
Meg snuggles in and places her hand on Drew’s chest proudly. My heart thumps. “Drew is an award-winning photographer!”
I’m instantly thrilled for him.
