Part 45 (1/2)

Every cap and gown, every parent, everyone who had legs stood. Even that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Hamilton.

Because one of our own had died saving a girl that I loved.

Who, I was certain, would one day be my wife.

Sometimes milestones are not measured by the accomplishments of society, but by those of integrity.

Brett had taught John that.

h.e.l.l, he'd taught us all.

I turned to look at Jade as the clapping died down and saw the tears on her face, seeing through the sadness to the joy that lay underneath.

Brett was gone but he was still a part of us.

There would have been no ”us” if it had not been for him.

We all understood it.

That's why John had committed himself to a speech about a mundane from a broken family that had been misunderstood.

Though not forgotten.

Never that.

I don't know what possessed John's parents to host a humongous reception for the graduates at their house. Obviously, serving a red fruit punch over obscenely white carpeting was nothing short of idiotic. Even if it did have plastic runners bisecting the center.

Especially watching Jonesy doing the hip-swiveling dance with his punch. A la beer pong cup.

He was having fun with that part. He'd flung his arm around Sophie who was making every effort to act like she was indifferent to the attention.

”And here's the thing, Soph... John's mom's doin' quarters baby,” his voice dropped to be hidden by the low drone of the mixed voices in the Terran household, filled to bursting with red punch.

h.e.l.l, even I was nervous. I watched Terran's eyes dart around like a ping pong ball without a paddle. There were simply too many cups to watch. He gave up, slogging over to my side.

”What's Jonesy talking about?” he asked, his hands on slack encased hips. His parents had made him wear the Man Outfit. John jerked the tie down a little so it was less like a noose.

”I'm pitting out in this bulls.h.i.+t,” John muttered.

”Dirty mouth, Terran,” Tiff said in a sultry purr from behind us and the poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d went from ivory snow to red as a tomato as fast as you could say....

Girl.

Tiff was one of those rare individuals whose very existence gave me a perpetual case of the crooked mouth. Like now.

”Tiff...” John began as she moved around to the front of our position and both our jaws dropped.

Tiff looked like a girl.

It was literally the first time we had ever seen her in a dress and she immediately tensed, feeling self-conscious.

John cleared his throat, the blush flaring ruthlessly back to life. He opened his mouth and then shut it.

”What?” she asked in a defensive bark.

John looked at her, taking in the soft, honey colored hair that had missed mousy brown by a millimeter. Her hazel eyes were rimmed with a swipe or two of light mascara but her face was so small that those luminous eyes with flecks of green took up half of that precious real estate.

And she had a body.

Who could have known? Hoodie as Uniform had obscured all.

She had been a skinny girl who had grown into a curvy woman. Not as curvy as Jade but in the same league.

Tiff huffed, pegging a small hand on her hip. Hands I'd seen jab throats. I was mesmerized, it was hard to imagine her doing the things she'd done when she was wearing skysc.r.a.per heels and a deep green blouse that hugged her torso tightly, a lacy black cami peeking out from actual, bona fide cleavage.

I swear I heard Terran swallow. Must've hurt. Poor dude.

”You look nice, Tiff,” John said. Color rose to her cheekbones and she was silent, fiddling with the hem of her short black skirt.

The awkwardness was suffocating us and dragging Tiff along for the ride when Sophie walked up.

Thank everything that was holy.

”Hi guys,” she said, her eyes s.h.i.+fting from my face to Terran's then to Tiff's.