The Chronicles of Fire and Ice_The Revealing

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The Chronicles of Fire and Ice_The Revealing Page 10

by Dexx Peay


  “Don’t have too much fun without me, guys,” I cried. “Diana and I will try and meet up with you guys after our ‘date’ I guess.”

  Mr. Reed came out into the hallway and let out a loud cough. Any other day that would straighten us all up but we ignored him and continued talking.

  “Seniors!” he bellowed, silencing us.

  He slid his glasses up with one finger. “This is the end of the road for you all. Trust me when I say that four years with some of you was enough.” He peered the room, the wrinkles tight in the corners of his eyes. Everyone chuckled. Some seniors really made him earn his paycheck over the past four years.

  “Just remember,” he continued. “It isn’t over until you have your diplomas in your hands and the ceremony is over. I expect everyone to be on their best Poughkeepsie Senior High behavior. Here we go.” With one thunderous clap of his hands, we were assembled into a straight line.

  The stands of the gymnasium were all filled with our families, teachers, and whoever else wanted to attend. Soon as the graduation song blared from the speakers we walked in slowly and in unison. It was the first time our class had accomplished anything together. The crowd now had eyes on us. I didn’t want to squint and strain my eyes looking for my folks or the Petersons. I knew they were there and would find us afterward.

  Since we were in alpha order, normally, Marcus would sit next to me, but because he was giving his Salutatorian speech, he sat on stage with the Valedictorian. It sucked cause now I had to sit next to Doug — the boy who had a year-round disease. No one ever knew what the problem was but for some reason he was always sick. Because it’s raining, I knew he’d be sniffling the whole time.

  “Hey, Dylan,” he said, running his hand across his nose, collecting drippings of whatever came flowing from his nostrils. He stuck his hand out, expecting me to shake it.

  I looked down at his infested hand then waved back at him while trying to disguise the disgusted look on my face.

  I think I smiled.

  “We better pay attention to Mr. Reed, Doug.”

  “Greetings, everyone.” Mr. Reed called the gymnasium to order and began the ceremony. The moment he began to speak, all the students pulled their cell phones out to text and take pictures. I hoped everyone has their phones on silent because Mr. Reed was the man to hold a diploma if he heard a phone go off during graduation. I unzipped my gown and reached into my breast pocket. I looked down and responded to the message Diana sent me:

  Diana: Marcus sure is looking scrumptious on stage

  Me: Why don’t you just ask him out if you like him so much.

  Diana: Be serious Dill Pickle. We are leaving for college soon

  Me: Well don’t try and start something and end it.

  Diana: I’m not looking for a relationship ;)

  Me: You never are.

  Diana: What time are you picking me up tonight??

  Me: I’ll call you later.

  Some time had passed. A few teachers and the principal had spoken along with the Mayor who was the guest speaker. After the Mayor, Samantha, our class president and Valedictorian, gave her speech. She spoke for about ten minutes and then introduced Marcus as he carefully walked to the podium.

  I could feel his nerves.

  He tapped the microphone and leaned in. “Hello.” It screeched. He stumbled back and fell into the lap of Mr. Reed. A few people in the rows behind me began chuckling. You got this, brother, I thought.

  We heard what sounded like a wrestling match before he hopped back up and hunched over the podium awkwardly. His hands gripped the sides. He peered around in silence for a moment and then straightened the curve in his back to a line and held his chest proudly. The whole class was now tuned in to what he had to say.

  Then, he began…

  Hello senior class of Poughkeepsie Senior High,

  He started off and the first sentence flowed out. He even managed to slightly fix that raspy voice of his to something more professional and clear.

  To the seniors, friends, family, and distinguished guests. My name is Marcus Peterson and I am the Salutatorian for our class. When I was told that I was going to have to give a speech, I have to admit, I was a little bit nervous. I am not the most popular kid in our class, and I’ve never been known for anything besides becoming prom king, which is still a shocker. My point is, in high school we place a lot of emphasis on social profiles — who’s the most popular or the most athletic, rather than getting to know people personally and emotionally. Most of us have been together since elementary school and there is no reason we all shouldn’t be best friends. However, rather than befriend each other, we grew apart over the years and split into different cliques. Why can’t the student government hang with the basketball players or the chemistry club hang with the football players? Why don’t we all know that Emily Stockton was the number one tennis player for the state of New York or that Pedro Santiago speaks three other languages aside from Spanish and English? These are the people who we all have known for years and who are in this crowd of people standing before me.

  A few days ago my best friend Dylan Perry told me to not worry about my high school years, because in college, people will not know who I am and that I could be anybody. I told him—

  “He said, I just want to be Marcus,” I yelled. He smiled, nodded, and finished.

  In my head I was thinking that I didn’t want to forget my high school years. Even though they weren’t the greatest socially, I was one of the few people who remained true to themselves and didn’t conform to what society wanted.

  Four years ago we entered the doors to Poughkeepsie Senior High with one mission—to graduate. Today we accomplished that mission and I just want to say congrats grads, and stay true to you.

  Everyone stood and cheered for Marcus. It was the first time I saw people actually noticing him for the person he really was and giving him what he deserved — respect. I was blown away by his speech and how well he spoke. From the reaction of our peers, they were too. I think he even startled Mr. Reed, who was probably expecting him to go up and fall flat on his face like he did pre-speech. Once he got back to the podium, Mr. Reed began to call our names.

  About twenty minutes later, I was finally up and walking in line to the stage. I took a few paces forward and came to the stairs that led to the stage.

  This was it.

  “Dylan Perry,” Mr. Reed called out.

  I walked on the stage overwhelmed with joy. There was no way I could hide it, nor did I want to. I walked up to him, shook his hand, grabbed my diploma and threw both hands in the air. The people cheered for me like they did for everyone. I was supposed to walk off the stage after that, but I had to wait for Marcus to receive his. His name was called next. He got up and walked to Mr. Reed to receive his Diploma. Once he got it, he walked over and threw his arms around me.

  “We did it, bro,” he said, taking his cap that read Harvard rejected me and flashed it to the crowd.

  Mr. Reed tilted his head and peered over his glasses. Marcus and I both went back to our seats. Once all the names were called we rotated our tassels right to left and when the ceremony was complete, we all threw our caps into the air.

  Graduation was over.

  We all met our families outside. The rain stopped and the sun was trying to fight its way through the residual storm clouds.

  “Nice speech, bro. I knew you had that in you.” I hugged him. “I think you might have touched some of the people and don’t even realize it.”

  “Look at my two grown men over there,” Mom said. Our parents came over and greeted us. We all took turns exchanging hugs and handshakes. Mom and Dad gave Marcus a graduation card that had two hundred dollars in it. His parents gave me a card with a gift card to Café Bocca. We both received some balloons.

  “OK, let me get a picture, you two,” said Mrs. Peterson. Our moms pulled out their cameras and we struck a pose.

  “One more, Mom,” I said then called out for Trey to join. We
all struck a gangsta pose and captured the everlasting moment.

  “Attention, all seniors over here for our last time together,” Samantha yelled. We all ran over in a large huddle.

  “On the count of three, can we get one last Falcons,” she said. We all cheered in excitement. “One — two — three — FALCONS!” We all yelled out.

  I spent the next few hours with my and Marcus’ family. We celebrated over food before getting ready for the night. I had my date with Diana, while Marcus and Trey were going to ride around and go to different graduation parties. I changed into something a little more comfortable, called Diana, and told her I would pick her up from her house.

  Once we met, she had me drive to the same park where Jessica and I used to meet. It wasn’t an elaborate park, but it always calmed me when my nerves got the best of me. There was a small pond with a walking trail around it, along with a sand pit, a few swings, and a slide.

  Diana never had a bad day. I had on shorts with the back pockets ripped and a black tee that had “I <3 NY” on the front. She, on the other hand, had on slim fit jeans with a pink and purple graphic beater and a black leather jacket. And she wouldn’t be Diana if she didn’t have on a pair of heels.

  “When does school start for you?” she asked.

  “The first week of September. I wish it were a little sooner though. I'm ready to get out and be on my own, so to speak.”

  “I know what you mean. Time to kiss this little town behind and head to the city. So you promised me you would tell me why you and basketball never made it to senior year.”

  “Ehh…”

  “No, you promised me. Talk,” she demanded.

  “My dad — my dad went to Poughkeepsie Senior High and … well, he was a basketball all-star.”

  “So what's wrong with that?” She took my hand and guided me to a bench along the trail. She gave me the impression that she was sincerely interested in knowing. She extended her legs and crossed them, signaling her attentiveness.

  “My dad placed so much pressure on me when I was younger, he basically forced the game on me. I never really wanted to play basketball, well at first I didn’t, and when I finally did start to like the game, it was too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  “I didn’t feel I was good enough to go any further. My dad was worshiped at Poughkeepsie. He went on to play college ball and was great there also. When my dad had a son he wanted nothing else but for him to be a basketball star just like him. Anyway, when senior year came around, I wanted to spare my feelings.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Scouts were going to start coming to the games to look for potential players for their schools. I didn’t want to be embarrassed if I didn’t get picked by a college.”

  “Where’s the confident Dylan I know who always scored the most points just about every game?”

  “That Dylan’s a fraud.” I couldn’t believe I just said that. “The only time I truly feel confident is when I'm around Marc.”

  “Why Marcus?”

  “Most people don’t see the strength Marcus has. He’s very confident in himself and the things that he does. When I’m around him I feel the same. At times I wish I could be him.”

  Whoa, I thought. I didn’t know why she was so easy to talk to. It was different but comforting. We walked over to the swing and I began to push her on it.

  “So when I decided to quit, I thought that I could focus more on classes and try to get into college based on academics as opposed to athletics.”

  “And how did that play out?”

  “Well I got accepted into Stanford,” I mumbled. Dirt flickered as her heels dug into the ground. She whipped her head around.

  “WHAT! You got into where?”

  I whispered again, “Stanford.”

  “And why are you not going there?”

  I debated on telling her the whole story. No one knew the reason that I turned down Harvard so I decided to go ahead and vent. “Because I was accepted into Harvard.”

  Her nose scrunched and her sapphire eyes narrowed onto me like a hawk. “But I thought you were going to NYU? Please explain.”

  “I got into Stanford, Harvard and a few other big name colleges but Marcus didn’t, so I just went with NYU.”

  “You turned down a school like that so you could play tag with your best friend?”

  “I wasn’t too sure about going out alone that far. What if something went wrong or I didn’t like it or just failed at everything? It would have been nice to have Marcus at Harvard but things just didn’t work out like that. I'm not mad at the decision I made, just slightly disappointed at how things played out.”

  “I don’t know each and every detail, but I'm sure Marcus wouldn’t have minded if you got into Harvard and he didn’t. He seems like he’s better than that. I'm not going to judge you on that but you better find some confidence fast before the Big Apple takes a bite out of you.”

  She was right but I still couldn’t bring myself to tell Marcus. Some things you just had to keep to yourself.

  We got lost in the time, laughing and talking when my phone rang.

  It was Marcus.

  He told me to meet him and Trey. He was out of breath and fear lingered in his words. Something told me they weren’t out partying like they said they were.

  Chapter 10

  Trouble!

  First stop: Samantha’s house. Surprisingly she had a nice crowd.

  “Thank you for coming, guys. I think your speech really triggered something Marcus. Look, I even have some jocks and cheerleaders here.” Her voice reached soprano as she pointed around to admire the diverse crew at her party.

  I smiled and thanked her. I was really hoping that my speech would give our class a deeper understanding of who I was and a look at the way we really treated each other.

  Trey and I walked around, chatting with some of the classmates. Samantha’s dad was on the grill and the food smelled delicious. He had burgers, sausage, and chicken with a special sauce on it he called “Daddy Jack’s make you smack” sauce. I think I may have tried everything twice. I sat down for a moment, or I planned for it to be a moment, because I was too full and it hurt to blink, let alone move.

  We walked over to the pool chairs, even though she didn’t have a pool, to lie down. There were other people lying around too probably just as full as I was.

  “So Alabama? So far, man,” I said, patting my stomach and still licking my fingers trying to relive that amazing sauce.

  “I couldn’t turn down free college money and what an adventure that would be for anybody to travel that far and play ball. I'm ready,” Trey said.

  “What about your family? How are they taking it?”

  Trey stood, stretched, and yawned, “They’re excited.” He sat down and locked his hands behind his back. “They think it would be a good thing for me to get away from here. With my sister gone, they can relax and travel even more and whatever else it is they want to do.”

  “How is Crystal doing these days?”

  “She’s great last time I checked. She got her first duty station in Germany so I don’t get to talk to her very often. How cool is it though that you are moving to the City?”

  “Ahh man, I can’t wait. I got some scholarships and financial aid to cover most of it. I'm taking out a loan to cover the last of it. Even though I’ll be only two hours from home, I still think it’ll be quite an adventure for me and Dylan.”

  “You guys are going to have a great time out there. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t love living in New York City. Just make sure we still hang out during holidays, and maybe in the future you guys can come down and visit the country. Sweet Home Alabama,” he sung in his Lynard Skynyrd voice.

  “Just don’t get all country on me and start wearing cowboy hats and boots, and please — please — Trey, don’t come back with that terrible southern accent they have down there.”

  “Any more requests?”

  “Not a
t the moment.”

  Samantha’s mom brought out a pole, and started playing limbo with everyone. It was quite entertaining to see the defensive players bend their large bodies backward. The childish limbo music got Trey and I up for a quick game before we left. I grabbed another burger on our way out as we contemplated where to go next.

  “Thanks for coming,” Samantha waved.

  “Where does all that go?” Trey asked, starting the car.

  “What? The food?” I gazed at the burger and took a bite. “Umm… I have no clue.”

  “As much as you eat and you’re still a chump. Where to next?”

  “Uhhhh I dunno….” He was the popular one. Why was he asking me?

  “Well…” He hesitated as he eased on the gas. “I got invited to Jessica’s house. Would you care if we stopped by?”

  Of course I cared. I didn’t want to go to the evil sorceress’ house on graduation night. She already ruined prom for my friends and me. I wasn’t going to give her another day of mine.

  “Sure. I don’t mind,” I lied.

  “OK, whenever you want to leave just let me know.”

  We got to Jessica’s house and the party was everywhere — the front of the house, inside, and the backyard, which is where the majority of the people were. Did the whole high school show up here because this place was packed? We went around the back so we didn’t have to fight our way through the door. Jessica was pinned on the wall with one leg kicked back talking with one of the guys from school. I think he was one of Dylan’s old teammates. She spotted us and pushed him to the side, leaving him standing clueless and walked over.

  “Trey! Glad you could make it,” she said. “Macchiato.” She snarled not looking in my direction. “You guys are missing one I see. Where’s Dylan?”

  I didn’t bother to look her direction either. “He’s on a date,” I said just loud enough for her to hear. “With Diana.” I added in for laughs and giggles.

  “Ooo…” She sneered, curling her lips in anger. I laughed as she stormed off in frustration, adding satisfaction to my night.

 

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