I glance up from the computer screen and, somehow, miraculously, in the crowd, my eyes find Max. He’s looking right at me, which I suppose is to be expected. Everyone is looking at me. I’m the valedictorian speaker and I’ve stopped speaking. It’s not normal. But then again, people expect that from me. Crazy Kylie, living up to my reputation. Maybe that’s all I’ll ever be to them, but I want to be more, if not for them, then for me, Jake, Mom, and Dad. I want to prove that what I’m made of is more interesting than crazy and brainy.
Max’s focus hasn’t swayed from the stage. As everyone around him starts whispering among themselves, wondering what the hell I’m doing, his eyes remain on me. His chin lifts ever so slightly, willing me to go on. He mouths, “You can do it.” And while he may be five hundred feet away, I feel him like he’s standing next to me. My face flushes. A shudder pulses through me. I want to be in his arms. I love him. I hate him. He’s a prince. An asshole. My soul mate. The bane of my existence. Shit. This is no time to try to work through this.
I look at Max. He’s right. I can do this, provided I haven’t lost the crowd at this point. I have plenty to say even though none of it is in my carefully crafted speech. The murmur from the crowd builds to a low roar. I can see Alvarez getting up from his seat and walking toward me. He’s ready to shut me down. No need, dude, I’m on it.
I clear my throat into the microphone. The noise dies down.
Okay, let’s do this.
“That was the beginning of the speech I had prepared for today. I spent the past three months writing it. You might have really liked it. The problem is, I didn’t. It was full of pithy quotes from brilliant people and sage advice I’d gleaned from books, but it didn’t feel very authentic. It’s stuff I’m supposed to say, not stuff I want to say. The truth is, I don’t have any answers for you today. All I have are questions because, like you, I don’t have a clue what’s ahead for us. I could tell you that the best is yet to come; time and tide wait for no one; you’ll accomplish great things; life is what you make it; we have the power to change the world; do what you love, the rest will follow; individuality is the key to success, blah, blah, blah. But you’ve heard it all before, and if you haven’t, it’ll probably roll right over you. Because, really, what does any of that mean to a high school senior? All you want to do is get out of here and start partying. Am I right?”
A loud roar goes up from the seniors. Headmaster Alvarez has sat down, but he’s perched on the edge of his chair, wavering, wondering if he should get back up and give me the hook.
ylie pauses as people yell out their approval. They weren’t expecting it, but they liked that last line. She looks surprised by the reaction. It’s funny, she’s spent six years hiding away from everyone, and now she’s putting it all out there at the very last possible moment. People think they know her, but they’re about to discover, like me, that they don’t know her at all. “Whoa, girl is losing it,” Carl Krauss says, who’s sitting to my left. “Get ready to watch self-destruction begin. Should be fun.” What an asshole. Jessica Littleton, who’s on my right, laughs at Carl, a little too loud and a little too long. I know she’s just trying to get my attention, but it’s annoying. She’s been trying to get my attention for twelve years.
Whenever we’re alphabetically ordered, it’s Carl, me, and Jessica. This is the last time we’ll be together. Despite the fact that I’m not into either of them, I find myself missing them. Or the idea of them. I mean, it’s all over now, and it suddenly seems really sad. Maybe we’ll all sit together at our twenty-fifth reunion, for old time’s sake. We’ll bring our spouses and kids, we’ll fly in from wherever, pass around our business cards, show photos of the vacation home, the boat. Shit. Will that be me? Is that what I want? I look into the future and I don’t like the scene that’s set there. Kylie’s right: hobbies are for wimps. I don’t want to be the guy who plays golf on the weekends, works my ass off all day in a job I’m not digging, and has to have two martinis every night to dull the pain.
The noise dies down; people are ready for more, but Kylie just stares out at us, quiet. She seems frozen. I hope she’s got a second act. It may have been a good start, but she can’t just leave it there. A few seconds pass, Kylie’s still not revving it up. Damn, what’s happening? Is she backing down? I have to stop myself from rushing the stage and walking her out of here. It’s the wrong plan—she wouldn’t want it and it wouldn’t do any good. I just have to hope she can pull it together and continue. I’m breathing hard, like I’m right up there on the stage with her. I know Kylie can do this. Think, think, I try to convey to her even though she’s not looking my way. You know what you want to say, Kylie. Don’t give up.
People are getting impatient. Someone throws a paper airplane, made from a program, at Kylie. It lands at her feet.
“Why’d she stop talking?” Carl asks.
“Maybe she remembered what a loser she is and that no one cares what she has to say,” Jessica says.
Carl and Jessica bump fists. I feel my face getting hot.
“Shut up,” I say. “She’s not a loser. She’s way cool. So don’t talk shit about her.”
Jessica and Carl look at me like I’ve sprouted horns. And maybe I have. I don’t know why I care so freaking much about this girl. It certainly doesn’t seem like she feels the same way about me.
“What’s it matter to you what we say about Crazy Kylie?” Carl asks.
“It just does, dude. So don’t say it. And she’s not crazy.”
“’Kay,” Carl says. He shuts up and turns away.
He may have gotten a soccer scholarship to UCSB, but he’s still a douche bag, and he doesn’t want to get on my bad side before Charlie’s party tonight.
Alvarez is freaking out. He must be wondering how this could be happening to him. Kylie Flores seemed like the surest thing ever as valedictorian. Who would think she’d go off the rails now? Alvarez stands and approaches Kylie. Is he going to walk her off the stage? But just as he gets to her, Kylie leans in to the microphone.
“I’ve spent the past six years at Freiburg working incredibly hard. And I did well. Super well in school. Better than all of you. I mean, I’m standing here, and you’re not, so I must have done something right. I certainly did everything I was supposed to do. And more. I never got a B, I aced my SATs, and got a full ride to a top college, but I spent all of my time at Freiburg in the library, not talking to anyone. I’m not sure that was the best way to go. When you over-prepare and micromanage everything, there’s no time for spontaneity. No time for life to play out. Life is something we have to experience, really feel, not just study for with books in a library. Learning is about so much more than school. If we’re too busy studying, we miss out on the experience. What I’ve only just realized is that I’ve been missing out. And I don’t want to do that anymore!”
Kylie is rallying. I feel a huge sense of relief. Maybe she’s going to pull this one out of the hat. Just in case she doesn’t, Alvarez stands nervously by her side. He’s not taking any more chances.
“In the past twenty-four hours, I’ve learned more about myself and my potential than I learned in all my years at Freiburg. With my apologies to Headmaster Alvarez.”
Kylie glances at the headmaster, who looks like his head is about ready to explode. This is not the kind of speech a headmaster hopes for. This is the kind of speech they fire headmasters for.
“As I said, I don’t have a lot of advice. But I do have a few suggestions. Sometimes having no script, having no idea what is going to happen next, having no map, might be the way to go. Because life just happens, and when it does, how you handle it will teach you more about who you are than any class or test ever can. The best preparation for the rest of your life is, maybe, no preparation at all. Dive right in. Make mistakes. Break a few rules. Wing it.
“Figuring out what you want comes from failing, and then trying again. It comes from questioning everything, falling in love, fighting the power, living without limits. It
doesn’t come from getting straight A’s, playing by the rules, and listening obediently.”
Kylie glances over at Headmaster Alvarez. He looks ready to kill her. “I’m sure Headmaster Alvarez isn’t exactly pleased with everything I’m saying. It’s not what he expected. It’s not what I intended. But let me just add, I’m not saying don’t plan for your future and don’t work hard. I’m just saying, don’t let that be all you do. Because that’s not enough. Trust me, I’ve been there. And I have no plans to go back. Things are happening right now, right here, and if you’re not in the mix, you’re missing out. Who’s with me?”
“I am,” people call out, one after the other. Kylie’s got the crowd in a way I never would have imagined. In a way she never did during school. I see her lips curl into a grin. She’s into it, living her moment. She takes the microphone out of the stand. She looks comfortable on the stage, relaxed. Alvarez, not so much. I don’t think he likes the freewheeling microphone thing. He looks like he wants to snatch it from her clutches, but she takes a few steps away from him.
“So, kiss the girl. Buy the dress. Take a vacation. Join the circus. Order the fried frog legs. Try out for the play. Learn to snowboard. Do something that scares the shit out of you. Or something that makes you happy. Or something that makes you cry. Whatever it is, do something that makes you feel something. Because feeling nothing is no way to go through life.”
I’m watching Kylie, I’m listening, and all of a sudden, I don’t want to disappoint her. I don’t want to disappoint myself. I am overwhelmed by a love for this girl I barely know. I wish she felt the same.
can’t believe Kylie is still talking. And talking. Off the cuff, saying what she feels, no filter. No editing. It’s so not her. And I’m eating it up. Every last word. There’s so much takeaway I don’t have enough doggy bags for it all. “I’ve spent a lot of time watching movies. Maybe too much time. I’ve convinced myself I’m going to be a screenwriter, and while it’s more likely that I’ll end up selling popcorn at the Regal Cinema on Osprey, I don’t care. I’m going for it. Against all odds. Despite what anyone says. I plan to write myself a rocking lead role in life. Chances are, the movie of my life won’t get made. But I don’t want to think about that now. My recommendation is that you don’t either. Write yourself a kick-ass movie to star in, and don’t listen to what anyone says. At least not right now. Now is the time to try. It might feel like we have forever. But the sad truth is, we don’t. And we won’t always feel this optimistic about the future. So, go for it. Before there’s too much standing in your way.”
“Sing it, sister,” I shout out. “That’s my girl up there!” I tell everyone sitting within twenty feet.
“Jesus, Bixby, you just screamed in my ear! Can you shut up, please,” Patrick Bains says to me.
“Stuff it, Bains,” I say. I’ve sat next to Patrick Bains in every single assembly since first grade and I am so sick of him I could puke. He’s been president of the student council three years running, and so full of himself it’s criminal for a guy with an inexcusable lack of fashion savvy and a pretty serious case of halitosis. I can’t wait to never see his mug again.
“What is your problem?” Patrick asks me.
“You are my problem,” I say, and then I turn back to Kylie and yell: “I. LOVE. YOU. KYLIE!”
“‘I didn’t invent the rainy day, man. I just own the best umbrella,’” Kylie says. “That’s one of my favorite lines of all time. It’s from a movie called Almost Famous. I think what it means is that life is going to throw all kinds of stuff at you, good and bad. But all you can do is get out there and try to stay dry.”
I give a big whoop for Almost Famous because it’s a genius line to quote in a graduation speech. And no one but Kylie would think to use it.
Bains glares at me. Dude, you might want to talk to a digestive specialist about that breath problem. It’s not going to help you any at college.
“So get a good umbrella, class of 2012! You’re going to need it! And congratulations!” With that, Kylie leaves the stage and goes to her seat.
For a second, no one does a thing. There’s silence. And then the place erupts in applause. Loud and hard and long. A bunch of people jump to their feet, others follow suit. It’s a standing O. Holy. Shit! My girl got herself a standing O! I am so proud of her, my eyes well up and a lump forms in my throat.
Kylie outdid herself. I am whistling and cheering. I can see Max a few rows away, hands in the air, clapping furiously. Juan, who has been sitting near the stage the entire time, is on his feet, fists pumping. My eyes are trained on Kylie as she takes her seat. Her face explodes into a giant grin. Girlfriend knows she nailed it. We all know she nailed it. Take that, Freiburg. Put it in your pipe and smoke it. No more Kylie Flores to kick around.
’ve been watching Max watch Kylie, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. He’s way into her, so far down the road there’s no turning back. Clearly, something happened in Mexico. Something that changed absolutely everything. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just a fling. Max couldn’t take his eyes off Kylie in the car, and then during her speech, and even now as she’s sitting two rows in front of him. I thought we still had a chance, but I realize now that he’s gone, baby, gone. And there’s not a thing I can do. Max keeps glancing over at Kylie as Alvarez speaks. It certainly didn’t help things that Kylie managed to miraculously come up with a great valedictorian speech. I mean, it wasn’t hard to do; there’s not exactly stiff competition. Last year’s speaker, Benjy Samuels, fainted halfway through his speech. And the year before that, Emma Ralston showed up wasted. Most of the other speakers in recent history have been so deadly dull, no one remembers what they said. I’m sure we’ll barely remember Kylie’s tomorrow morning. Still, the standing O was beyond irritating. I am so screwed. Kylie has managed to pull herself out of the abyss of social obscurity just in time for me to fall in.
I notice Luca Sonneban staring at me. He’s sitting at the beginning of my row. Can he tell something is going on with Max and Kylie? Is he gauging my reaction to this whole public disaster? Or is he checking me out, as usual? I smile and wave, and he blushes a deep scarlet. It looks good with his perennially tanned skin. He’s hot. Funny, I never really noticed. Well, I’m noticing now.
Luca has been crushing on me since ninth grade. He’s asked me out at least half a dozen times. I’ve always said no. He’s just not my type—a little too surfer dude, with the long stringy blond hair and the constant board shorts. Enough already. We get it. You surf.
We kissed once at a party in tenth grade. There was waaaay too much tongue. It was slobbery, like making out with my Labradoodle. But he could be trained. And he’s got plenty of money. So there’s that. The problem is, Stokely has the hots for him, which is unfortunate. Normally I’d steer clear—sisterhood and all that. But things have reached critical mass, and as much as I don’t want to hurt Stokely, I need to put myself first.
“Congratulations, class of 2012!” Alvarez yells out.
A loud roar goes up from the senior class, and we all jump out of our seats and toss our caps in the air. Big whoop!
I’m so outta here. I stand and make a beeline for Max. We’ve got business to take care of. I’ve got to save face, if nothing else. As usual he’s surrounded by his loyal posse. It’s hard to squeeze my way in, but I do, and the sea parts. Max looks down at me, nervous. He’s not even remotely happy to see me. The reality smacks me in the face. This is so not where I live.
“Lil…hey,” he says. He’s palpably uncomfortable.
I’m going to make this so easy for him. He doesn’t need to be sweating it.
My eyes scan his face. God, he’s gorgeous. I really love him—truly and intensely—in a way I’ve never loved anyone or anything. Sure, there have been ulterior motives circling around, but my love for him is as pure as it gets with me. I suddenly feel like crying. I don’t want to say good-bye, but there’s really no choice.
I lean in to Max. I feel his body go rigid.
How is it possible things have changed so much in such a short span of time?
“Listen, Lil, we need to talk. How about we go out for lunch—”
“Save it, Max,” I say. “We don’t need to talk about anything. It’s over. I can’t forgive you for yesterday. We’re done. There’s nothing more to say.”
Max looks at me like I’ve just pulled the Astroturf out from under him. Sorry, Max, I got there first. You can’t fire me, I quit.
“We should talk, Lily. We can’t just end things like this.”
“You should have thought of that last night,” I say, my voice starting to quiver.
I will not let him see me cry. I will not give him the satisfaction. I lean in and kiss him on the cheek.
“I’m sorry, Lil. Really sorry…” Max says as I turn away swallowing the bitter aftertaste of rejection. I make a beeline for Luca, who’s standing nearby, talking to Sam Butterworth.
“Hey, Sonneban,” I say, pulling him into a hug. “Congratulations, dude.”
“You too, Lil,” Luca says, holding me tight, tighter than he probably should, considering, for all he knows, I’m still one of his best friend’s girlfriends. This is going to be easy. Like taking candy from a baby.
Stokes walks up as Luca and I are hugging. She stares, waiting for us to release each other. We do, but not before I give him a little peck on the cheek for good measure, sealing the deal.
“You going to Charlie’s with anyone tonight?” I ask Luca.
“Uh, not really,” Luca says.
“Then how about you pick me up at seven?” I say.
“You’re not going with Max?” Luca asks.
“Nope. I’m going with you, if you’ll have me.”
“Totally,” Luca says. He can barely contain his excitement. His smile spreads from ear to ear, like a goofy stuffed animal. I miss Max already.
From What I Remember Page 29