"She added darts."
"To a graduation gown."
"It has a waistline now. The woman gave a graduation gown a waistline."
Maya shakes her head, and the cap wobbles.
"Don't," she says before my hand can move.
The provost finishes. Applause rolls across the lawn. Names begin.
? ? ?
Talia Addison.
She is the first of us, and she crosses to the stage with careful, grounded steps. Each one lands clean. She shakes the dean's hand, turns toward the stands, and finds the one person she needs to find.
Coach Addison is in the third row of the family section, wearing a suit instead of the team jacket, his tie slightly crooked. His hands are clasped in his lap, his jaw set, his eyes bright enough that Maya goes still beside me.
Talia presses her hand to her chest. Addison nods once, and his hands tighten in his lap.
Maya's elbow presses into my arm. "I'm going to cry already," she mutters. "We're on the A’s. I'm going to be destroyed by the M’s."
"You'll be fine."
"I will be a puddle."
Zoë Barnes.
She crosses that stage like she's walking a runway at Milan Fashion Week. Her gown is somehow tailored, all darts and waistline and something architectural happening at the shoulders. She shakes the dean's hand, says something that makes his eyebrows rise, and turns to find Gio's section. Her mouth curves, soft and unguarded in a way that feels almost indecent to witness from this far away.
"She just made the dean blush," Maya whispers.
"That's her superpower."
Adrian Hale.
The student section erupts, and Adrian walks across the stage with the same stride he uses coming through the tunnel, shoulders square and chin level. He shakes the dean's hand and turns to the stands. Suzanne is on her feet in the family section,clapping with her whole body. My father is beside her with the Briarcliff scarf draped over his suit jacket.
Clara Harrington crosses seconds after, the H’s back-to-back. She shakes the dean's hand, laughs at something he says, full and loud enough to carry over the first few rows. Then she turns to find Adrian in the graduate section, winks at him, and walks off.
"God, I want to be her when I grow up," Maya says.
"You're the same age."
"She has an energy I aspire to."
Genny Laurent.
She crosses the stage with her posture perfect and her face calm. In the family section, two people rise for her with polite smiles and careful applause. They look expensive, composed, and completely untouched by the fact that their daughter is crossing a stage. No one calls her name.
She turns, and her eyes sweep the graduate section, counting us. Her gaze passes the family section. Passes Addison. Lingers for half a second, maybe less, and then she is walking off the stage and the half-second is over.
"Almost us," Maya says. She straightens in her chair and adjusts the cap. It slides again, so she stabs the pin deeper. "If this thing falls off on stage I'm holding you personally responsible."
"I haven't touched it."
"Your energy is making it slide."
