“It’ll look more symmetrical with us on either side of you,” Hunter said.
Brad’s arm was around my shoulder, so Hunter lowered his arm closer to my waist. His fingers danced their way to my lower back and clutched me firmly, but respectfully. Just two friends, nothing more.
But it felt like more than that to me. Especially after living with him for several months. Listening to him through our shared wall, hearing him talking in front of the camera while making his YouTube videos. One time I thought I heard him say my name, but it was probably just my imagination.
“I’m proud of you, big brother,” I said while we posed for the photos. “You too, Hunter.”
“Thanks, Erica,” he said softly, arm squeezing just a little bit tighter in acknowledgment. I hoped my red cheeks wouldn’t show up in the photos.
When she was satisfied with the pictures on the camera, Mom hugged Hunter warmly. “We are so proud of you, Hunter. To go through what you’ve gone through, and still graduate…”
He flashed his perfect white smile. “Thanks, Mrs. P.”
We went to a steakhouse for lunch to celebrate the graduation. I smiled while Brad and Hunter shared stories about what it was like to walk across the stage and accept their diplomas.
“It makes me feel older,” Hunter said. “I know I don’t turn eighteen for another three weeks, but that piece of paperreallymakes me feel like an adult.”
We ordered slices of pie for dessert and then went home. Mom and Dad were driving to an overnight nursing conference in Cleveland that evening, and they hit the road as soon as we got home from lunch. But before they left, I heard Dad take Hunter and Brad aside and talk to them in the kitchen.
“We definitely don’t approve of parties being thrown while we’re gone,” he said in a stern voice that I had never heard before. “However, if a graduation partywereto be thrown, there’s a few dozen cases of beer in the garage. There would be no way for us to know a party happened as long as everything was cleaned up before we get home tomorrow night. Here’s money for food while we’re gone.”
“Holy crap, dad, this is two hundred bucks,” Brad said.
“Just in case,” my dad said. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear the wink in his voice.
After they left, Brad said, “I can’t believe Dad just told us to throw a party.”
“Your parents are so cool,” Hunter said. “Mine would never allow that.” His eyes wrinkled sadly, and I wished I could go up and hug him. But before I could, the moment was gone.
Brad and Hunter invited a dozen people over. I ran out to buy a bunch of snacks, and by the time I got back, the street was lined with cars. The front door was wide open, and I could hear music thumping loudly before I even exited the car.
I carried the bags of snacks inside and gazed around. The house was crammed with recent graduates drinking from red solo cups: in the foyer, on the stairs, and in the dining room. Many of them were obviously from our high school, but there were a lot of people I didn’t recognize, too.
A guy in a varsity football jacket tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “Who are you?”
“Uh, I live here.”
“No,Bradlives here,” he replied stupidly.
My brother appeared from the kitchen and waved. “That’s my baby sister. And she has snacks!”
I had never seen my brother buzzed before, but he was slurring his words and grinning like an idiot. “Shut up, I’m seventeen!” I shot back.
“Right now, you’re the hero of the party.” He took the bags. “Hey everyone, the snacks are here!”
There was a round of cheers in the kitchen as he held the bags high.
I wasn’t a very outgoing person. It took all of my social willpower just to sell candy in front of the school before first period, back before I got shut down by the principal. Suddenly being thrust into a party with a bunch of seniors was strange and anxiety-inducing, so I weaved my way through the crowd on the stairs and went to my room.
TheTHUMP, THUMP, THUMPof the bass was steady through the floor, occasionally interrupted by a round of cheers. Now that I was in my room, I was afraid to leave. Everyone in the house had just graduated, and I was still a junior. I wouldn’t fit in.
I was ten minutes into an episode ofRiverdalewhen someone knocked on my door. “This room isn’t part of the party!” I called, assuming that it was a couple looking for a place to make out.
But when the door opened, it was Hunter’s face that appeared in the crack. “You hiding out up here?” he asked with that charming, butterfly-inducing smile of his.
I paused my show and said, “I don’t really know anyone here. They’re all seniors.”
Hunter waved a hand dismissively. “So what? You know me. I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”