by Jenna Scott
Amid the crowd, I pick out my mom and Hunter’s dad, sitting with a grinning Harry between them. Mrs. Beck had to go out of town for some big influencer event, and even though I’m aware of the friction between her and Hunter, it strikes me as weird that she’s not here. Stepmom or not, she’s still his family. She should be supporting him.
Hunter collects his diploma with little fanfare, but inside my chest, I can feel my heart swelling with love and pride, to the point that tears sting my eyes. Despite whatever personal demons he’s had to battle over the last four years, he managed to work his ass off and get it together in the end. Mr. Beck shows no joy other than a half-hearted clap, but Harrison is on fire.
Once Hunter is beside me again, he pulls me against him in a tight hug. My heart is close to bursting with all the happiness, and when he kisses me, I swear it does burst.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he says quietly.
“I’m glad I could help.” My gaze sweeps over him admiringly again, the gown and cap giving him a surprisingly dignified look. It’s unfair that he looks good in everything.
Then they call my name, adding that I’m graduating summa cum laude, and I practically float up the stairs and across the stage, where Dr. Warren hands me my diploma with a warm smile and a firm handshake. I feel like I’m dreaming. I can’t believe I made it here. And I’m an Oak Academy graduate, no less.
Searching the crowd to find my mom again, I could almost swear I see her smiling. I don’t know if it’s the distance or the hot sun playing tricks on my eyes, but in this moment I want to believe she’s actually proud of me, which is something I never thought I’d see. Next to her, Harrison is standing on his chair, cheering and clapping.
I go back to my seat, where Isabel already has her diploma tucked under her arm. Emmett is the last to join us, and Hunter offers him a handshake and a clap on the shoulder, while I give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. To his credit, Hunter doesn’t shoot Emmett any dirty looks, or even bat an eye.
We wait for the remaining names to be called, and I even clap for Hillary and her minions, because when it comes down to it, I’m proud of all of us. Then we all move our tassels from the right side of our caps to the left and do the cap-throwing thing. And then it’s finally, finally over. I’m done with high school, and, in a few more months, this whole town. It doesn’t escape me that I’ll have to say goodbye to Hunter soon, as well—but I firmly push the thought back, not wanting this day to be tainted.
“See you guys at the beach house later?” Isabel asks. “You are coming to the party, right?”
“Of course,” I say. “Hunter and I will meet you there after dinner.”
“Oh cool, where are you going?”
“Ettie’s,” Hunter says. “Dad made us all a reservation.”
“Nice. The crème brûlée there, my God. We’re going to Trattoria Grazie, and I’m definitely getting the tiramisu as an appetizer.” Isabel threads her arm through Emmett’s. “Catch you cool cats later. We’re gonna go find our parents.”
“I’ll come with. I wanna say hi to them.” I disengage myself from Hunter and stand on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll come find you in a minute.”
The smile on his lips is forced, but he doesn’t argue. “Sure thing.”
I go off with my friends, and give Isabel’s mom and dad a hug, then Emmett’s. I linger for a bit with his mom so I can tell her once again how thankful I am for all of her help. That I’m going to my dream college because of her and her son.
“As I’ve said before,” Mrs. Ortega says, gently cupping my cheek. “It was a privilege to help someone as hardworking as you get the chance they deserve. And you did not have to get me that BAMF apron, but I do love it.”
After I say goodbye to them, I rush back to Hunter’s side—he’s not hard to find, towering over pretty much everyone else. We head out to the cars, and Mr. Beck takes Mom in his, while Hunter and I take Harrison in ours because the kid insisted.
The restaurant, Ettie’s, is the fanciest I’ve ever been in, with balcony seating that overlooks the beach. It’s the sort of place where waiters pull out your chair for you and recite the list of specials in French, and where the food prices are...exorbitant, to say the least. Pretty sure the wine Mr. Beck orders costs at least two months’ rent for some people. Still, the food is amazing, and I almost melt in my seat when Hunter makes me taste his lobster bisque, not to mention the amazing orange duck I ordered solely to be adventurous, which comes with the best, most orgasmic polenta I’ve ever had.
Hunter’s sitting next to me, and he keeps tangling his lower leg around mine as if he needs a physical reminder that I’m here. While we wait between courses, he finds my hand and threads our fingers together. Harrison is asking all sorts of questions about high school, while my mom and Hunter’s dad talk to each other, off in their own world.
In moments like these, I can almost imagine that this is my family, and that Harry is the sweetest little brother I never had. Sure, the rest of it is a fucked-up bunch, but it’s my bunch, and maybe that’s not so bad. Not when the dysfunction of our parents feels like a speck compared to the pure good that is Harrison, and the good that Hunter is striving to be. The oddity of Karleigh missing from this picture is stark, though. I really expected her to be here today, to be kind to Hunter even if just for Harrison’s sake, and I’m a bit sad that she isn’t.
Dessert comes, and I almost die at the crème brûlée Isabel mentioned. Not even my mom’s passing comment of, “Are you sure you want to eat that, Camilla?” can take away from the utter joy that is this creamy, custardy, caramelized sugar wonder. Hunter feeds me some of his decadent Belgian chocolate soufflé as well, and when my mother lifts a brow, all I do is smile back in return. She can eat her berries all she wants; I’m having all the desserts. After finishing the year with straight As, it’s what I deserve.
Hunter tries to steal a bite of my dessert, but I parry his spoon away with mine. “Back off. You had the chance to order it.”
“But I shared mine with you!” he cries. “Come on, Milla. One tiny little bite.” Then he leans in to whisper in my ear. “Or will I have to settle for tasting it on your tongue later?”
He’s squeezing my thigh under the table, which he knows makes me weak. “Ugh, fine. Just one bite. A little one.” As if I’d really keep my dessert from him.
“Fair’s fair.” He swipes his spoon into my ramekin, taking so much more than a tiny bite, and then closes his eyes with ecstasy as he savors it, moaning and rolling his eyes hilariously. Harry cracks up, and I can’t even be mad at how huge the bite was.
We linger a bit at the table after our dishes are cleared away, Mom and Mr. Beck enjoying their coffee and Hunter and I holding hands under the table. Harrison’s already powering down. When my mom says she’s going to hang a bit longer, I assume it’s to drink, but Mr. Beck says he’ll stay behind with her.
“Can you just drop Harrison off?” Mr. Beck asks Hunter. “He’s spending the night with the Van Beukerings.”
“The who?” Hunter says.
“His new friend Blake,” Mr. Beck clarifies.
“Blake? I’ve never heard Harrison mention him,” Hunter says, crossing his arms.
“We haven’t met yet,” Harrison chimes in. “But Dad says he’s nice.”
Hunter frowns. “Dad—”
“Son.” Mr. Beck’s smile becomes strained. “The Van Beukerings are friends of mine, people of quality. Harrison could use the social interaction.”
Hunter is tensing up beside me, so I jump in. “We can take him,” I offer. “We’re going to a party, so we’ll just drop him off on our way.”
“Perfect. Don’t stay out too late, Milla,” my mother says, as if she ever gives a shit how late I’m out or where I even go. But I just smile back sweetly and agree.
To be honest, I’m a little thrown by the way Mom and Mr. Beck have had their heads together all night. There seems to be way too much familiarity between them
, especially considering that he’s her (our) employer, but…I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I can’t help worrying how she’ll act in front of Mr. Beck once she’s had a few drinks, though. But she’s an adult, I tell myself. She can take care of herself.
Besides, Mr. Beck’s probably just looking to unwind after his workweek. Even if it means having a few cocktails with the kind of person he’d normally look down on.
After we drop Harrison off with his Spider-Man print overnight bag at a mansion a few blocks away from the Becks’, Hunter and I get back in the car to head to the graduation party organized by Oak Academy’s graduation committee. The beach house where it’s being held is a few miles outside of town, and pretty much everyone is going to be there.
“You think Harry’s going to be okay?” Hunter asks, hands drumming on the steering wheel as we pull away.
“He’ll be fine,” I say. “And if he doesn’t like spending time with this kid, he never has to go back. But who knows? Maybe they’ll hit it off.”
Hunter nods, reaching for my hand. “Maybe they will.”
We drive mostly in silence, holding hands. As we get closer, there’s no doubt about which house it is. The place is lit up like the Rockefeller Christmas tree, and tons of kids are hanging outside, lounging on the sandy beach with cups in their hands, loud music and bonfires going.
Hunter parks the BMW and turns to me. “Ready for your last high school experience?”
“I still can’t believe we made it,” I admit.
“Yeah,” Hunter says, bringing my hand up to his lips. “But I’m glad we went through it together.”
His voice is soft, and I weaken at the sound of it. I lean over and pull him toward me for a slow, long kiss.
“Me too.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Hunter
The graduation party is full on raging by the time Milla and I get there. She’s walking next to me, her arm in mine, head leaning on my shoulder. A grin’s been on her lips all day, and she’s still radiating happiness and relief.
I should be happy, too. I pretty much did the impossible by graduating this year, which I doubt anyone thought I’d be able to do. And who could blame them? If it hadn’t been for Milla, I’d definitely be spending another year at the Academy.
Knowing that I should be on top of the world doesn’t make it easier to feel it, though. Milla might be with me now, but after the summer, she’ll be gone. She’s going to Stanford to pursue her dreams, and there’s nothing I can do to stop her. The best part of my life is leaving me.
If I bring it up, I know she’ll tell me it’s not the end. That we can do long distance, FaceTime, see each other on the weekends. But that conversation will just bring down the vibe, and I don’t want to rain on her parade.
Still, this entire day, it’s been all I can think about. How I’m going to have to function without her brightness to light my way. Even if we video chat every day, it won’t be the same as having her with me, being able to touch and taste her, and once she gets acclimated to her new life at Stanford, she’ll inevitably slip away. She’ll meet someone as brilliant and ambitious as she is, and she’ll move on. I’ll be nothing but a memory, until eventually, I won’t be anything at all.
I don’t want her to forget me.
I don’t want her to leave me.
Everything about Milla is perfection, and I still can’t believe she’s mine. But only until she goes away for college, leaving me in the dust and never looking back.
Thinking like this is a surefire way to ruin the night, but I can’t stop my brain from going in cruel circles. I try to have a good time, and God knows I’m ready to be totally done with all these assholes, but I can barely manage to go through the motions.
The partying is a boisterous whirlwind all around us, so I force myself to mingle with a plastic cup of beer in my hand, doling out the high fives and back slaps, but I never take my eyes—or hands—off of Milla, not even for a second. Because she’s mine right now, and I’m desperate to hang on to every moment I have with her.
I didn’t know it was possible to feel this lonely while standing next to the girl you love.
“Isabel!” Milla squeals and lets go of me when she spots her friend, who’s sitting on the porch steps of the beach house and nursing a red cup identical to mine.
“Milla!” Isabel yells back, abandoning her cup to jump down and tackle my girlfriend in a hug. I stand close, but try to give them a little space. Despite our group study date last week, I know I’m probably still on Isabel’s shit list. “I’m so glad you’re here! Emmie left me all by myself to go to the bathroom and I haven’t seen him since. I think some dudebros kidnapped him.”
“Do we need to launch a search party?” Milla jokes, glancing at me.
“I can look for him,” I offer, trying to play the good guy.
“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Isabel retrieves her cup and downs the remainder of whatever’s in it. “I actually have to go now. Come with me?”
“You can’t find it yourself?” I ask.
Both of them shoot me a glare. “Hunter,” Milla scolds. “You know girls. We never pee alone.”
“Plus, you’ve had her all day.” Isabel pouts, and I notice her speech is already a bit slurred. “I’ll return her to you soon, and in one piece. Go see your friends.”
I really don’t want to. But I also don’t want to be the asshole who demands his girlfriend stays glued to his side. It’s Milla’s night to celebrate, too.
We part ways at the stairs, and I’ve been to so many parties by now, I just go into autopilot mode. I make the rounds, a head nod here, a round of clinked beer cups there, all the while wending toward the kitchen where I know the booze will be. Matt Mason, Steve, and Tom are already there, deep in their cups by the sound of it, and as I expected, the counter island is packed with bottles of…everything.
“Where’s your little girlfriend?” Steve asks, part uninterested, part sneer. Ever since I got back together with Camilla, he’s made himself scarce. Which is honestly something I’ve appreciated, so his nasty comment only irritates me all the more.
I keep my lips from baring into a snarl. “Off with Isabel somewhere.”
“Those two are really close, huh? Maybe too close.” Steve waggles his eyebrows. “You know what everyone says about Isabel and the ladies…”
It takes everything I have not to punch him in the face.
“Dude. That’s not cool.” Matt elbows Steve in the ribs, and some of his beer sloshes onto the floor. “Just because Isabel won’t let you get in her pants, doesn’t mean she’s gay.”
Tom lifts his own cup in a toast and adds, “But if she is, more power to her.”
Okay, I’ll probably keep in touch with Mason and Tom, but that’s it. Unlike the rest, they have some redeeming qualities, and Tom’s never been a jackass to Camilla. Everyone else, however, I can’t wait to leave in the dust.
Steve scoffs. “I’m just sayin’, I wouldn’t turn down a ticket for that show. I bet Beck wouldn’t either—”
“I’m not interested in sharing. With anyone,” I cut him off. This conversation is heading down a disgusting but unsurprising path.
Narrowing his eyes, Steve turns to Matt. “That reminds me…you’ve been hanging out with her, haven’t you? Isabel, I mean. She just after your weed, or what?”
Matt shrugs. “We’re friends. We smoke sometimes and she tutored me in math.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I didn’t know that.”
“How else do you think I passed AP Calc?”
He doesn’t need to explain further, and if I’m willing to give Isabel anything, it’s that she’s smarter than all of us put together. If she and Milla got together, they’d probably take over the world.
And there comes the thought again. Of how this is the end for Milla and me. It’s always there, lurking around every corner, a shadow I can’t get rid of. The drinks are basically winking at me, and I’m tempted to dive i
n. Getting shitfaced drunk is a surefire way to forget about the worries plaguing me. It’d make this night pass faster, at the very least. Alcohol will blur everything…including her.
But that’s something I can’t let happen. I want every one of my last remaining moments with Milla to be lucid.
I pour myself a club soda and leave it at that. My friends are talking about whatever, their words not really reaching my ears. I turn to my phone, where the photo of Mill and me at the front gates of Disneyland is still on the lock screen.
That was a great day. She was so incredibly happy, maybe as happy as she is today. It was like all her usual worries were gone, and I was enough.
Why can’t I be enough for her?
And now, I want to slap myself. Fucking hell, Hunter, get a grip. Milla’s not like you—that’s why you love her.
I do love her. How driven and determined she is. I love that she wants to be independent. Growing up with her mom’s issues, and without her dad around, couldn’t have been easy. I understand why she’s afraid of relying on people to survive.
Isabel’s voice reaches me first, loud and high-pitched, and I look up to see her come into the kitchen with Milla. As soon as Isabel spots Matt, she runs over to him.
“Mattie! Do you have…?”
“Not for you, I don’t. You’re already drunk. It’ll give you the spins.”
“That means you do.” Isabel shamelessly goes for the pocket of Matt’s jeans. He gently slaps her arm away, but she’s persistent, and on a mission.
“Isabel! Boundaries,” Milla scolds with a giggle, coming to stand at my side as she fills a cup with vodka and orange juice.
“But Matt owes me for Calc and he’s not paying up!” Isabel pouts.
Mason rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll share, but only if you switch to water. I don’t want to spend my night holding your hair back while you vomit in a hole in the sand.”