Rusty Summer (30 page)

Leo is on one side and Beau is on the other. I look down. I am wearing
high heels,
you guys.

Yup. Black velvet pumps and knee-high black silk nylons! I pulled the pant legs of my best new black sweats up underneath my robe so you can't see them. I'm so fancy!

Beau looks beautiful. His wavy dark hair is combed back and glossy. His eyes match his dark blue shirt collar. He sees me looking at him and looks back. We smile and I turn and look at Leo.

She, of course, has dressed up for this. She looks like a million bucks, as my grandma says.

Speaking of which, GramMer just gave me THREE THOUSAND smackaroos for a graduation present! Mad Stacks!!!!

I turn around and find our crew in the stands. It's a huge auditorium. I wave and they wave back. Then all three of us grads wave. I count eight people waving back, so everyone is seated. Yay!

As the ceremony begins we all sit and stand, as required, and I zone in the same way I used to at church, thinking my thoughts and absently monitoring what I'm hearing.

Till it's time for Beau's speech.

As he walks to the podium I watch, electrified. This is thrilling. I fidget breathlessly.

He stands silently till all eyes are upon him. The rustling dies down in the waiting audience.

When he smiles it's like the sun coming out. Beau has gotten very good at public speaking, after so many interviews on the local news. He looks around at our senior class.

He starts with a joke. My joke!
This is amazing,
I think. His voice echoes and reverberates whenever he pauses—just the way-ay voices sound during speeches-each-es that we all have seen on television-is-shun. I listen to him, agog.

“It's wonderful we need such a big auditorium to hold our graduating class. You guys look great!”

Cheers! The class roars.

“The theme of my chat today was going to be ‘When in Doubt, Don't be Douchey,' but as it turns out that was already taken.” Laughs and applause—big ups for
The Daily Show
!

Beau pauses till they settle down. Then he goes on.

“Fellow classmates, we stand at the dawn—or at least the early morning—of the twenty-first century. We stand at the brink of new times. Our generation, possibly more than any other, is at a crossroad. We have decisions and options unheard of in earlier eras, which by the birthright of our times will be our epoch's legacy—ours alone—to determine. As we discover our times and our truth, let our path be in moving forward with the certain knowledge that at some point, we will have to choose which road to travel.

“One path is common sense and kindness, and the other is age-old tradition.

“I hardly need tell you, clever classmates, of the number of horrendous ideas that were widely accepted,
traditionally.
Slavery, domestic violence, torture, and human sacrifice all grace the list, to name just a few. That has been the path we
were
on. But tradition has been modified continually over the centuries, as ideas are proven false and grow irrelevant. We have broken with all these so-called traditions already.

“Hating has gotten us nowhere. Hating gets us nowhere. That has been demonstrated over and over again. It's time to let go of our old prejudices and embrace the universe of possibilities within us all.”

We cheer. Beau is an orator! Go, Cicero! Woo!!

“So let us choose that other path: the road less traveled. Let this time here today, our last time together, begin a time of new inclusion. Let's all live and let live. As a dear friend of mine is always saying, ‘It's hardly original. I think it's called the Golden Rule.' Right, Rylee?”

Everyone turns to look where I'm seated. I duck my flaming face and wave. They laugh.

But in a good way.

Beau continues.

“And she's right! Surely in this time of techno-magic, surely, we can find some common ground to meet on. Lay off politics and religion. Try topics like living to be one hundred, and kitty rescue.”

That gets a big laugh too. I look over at Leo. She is illuminated with pride. She too is triumphant. This was a hard day coming for her as well. And she made it!

I sigh with satisfaction. I turn my attention back to Beau:

“. . . of the day when hackneyed acts of hate and greed are as damning as rumors of sexual scandal! I dream of a day when greed and hate speech are shunned by respectable speakers, when such actions are embarrassing, career-ending deal-breakers—as revealing a revelation of defective reasoning as, say, the current faux-pas of oversharing of what's underneath our outerwear.” Giant laugh!

“In conclusion, let me remind our class—we Peace Warriors of The Now—that we stand here today with all the power in the world. We are young and strong. We are well-placed and ready. At the risk of sounding played, we can ‘be the change we want to see.' Granted, we face hard times, but with our great imagination and with renewed drive we can use these hard times to identify and address that which is broken in our society.

“These hard times are
our
times, some say our only time, others contend they are end-times, but we can all agree that someday this life we live will end. Let the record show, then, in the reflection of our collective soul, how we—our generation—finally learned to treat each other with justice and compassion. Let us go forth after we finally leave these halls, and demonstrate our last and most lasting legacy to the future, our enthusiastic embrace of the Golden Rule. This is our time! Let us seize our day!”

Cheers begin and grow, as we feel him wrapping up—a rumbling roar grows from the arena.

“We are young and strong; let us also be compassionate and courageous. Make it count, you guys! All right!! School is
out!!
”

Then everyone goes crazy and stands up, cheering. Beau comes out from behind the podium and the governor strides out and gives him an award. They shake hands and everyone takes pictures.

I clap till my hands are numb and my eyes swim. Leo too. We yell till we're hoarse.

I don't remember the walk but I remember lining up and giving our name thing to a lady who gave it to the superintendent to read. I remember sitting back in my seat and looking at my diploma while others filed by getting theirs. I do remember the tassel transfer and cap toss at the end.

My mom got a great picture of Leo and me with our caps in the air, frozen in time.

 

Everything was a blur in the crush and crowd around Beau (and us) afterward, but I will always remember the thing that happened when we were almost ready to go.

Our epic ceremony finally over, we were getting our stuff, flowers and prezzies and cards full of cash into the van, and as I turned to ask Beau something, this guy came up behind him and stood, waiting, with his hands behind his back. My eyes bug out.

It's Nick.

The homophobic idiot who rounded up a gang and jumped Beau our junior year.

Yeah. That's who was standing there.
Him.

He stands and waits as I stink-eye him, and Beau turns around. I move to stand beside Beau.

“What are
you
doing here? You were expelled!” I snarl at him. “What's behind your back?”

“I'm not talking to you,” Nick sneers back. “I'm talking to Beau.”

He shows Beau his hands. They're empty.

“No, actually you are talking to me, you moron,” I retort. “Why don't you piss off?”

“Why don't you make me?” is his brilliant reply, making me certain of him again, mentally.

“Want me to?” I feel my game face creep on. I will love knocking this little shitbird on his ass and choking him with my knee. I still outweigh him and now I know how to use it.

“Rylee, chill. He's here to say something. Let's hear it,” Beau says, looking into my eyes.

The good ol' Rusty Whisperer. So I stand scowling and try to listen.

Nick looks at Beau and clears his throat. His nose is still slightly crooked because Beau broke it when Nick's gang of douche nozzles jumped him and started all the troubles.

“I just came to graduation today because I do want to say something.” Nick takes a deep breath and then says in a rush:

“I want to apologize.”

Both Beau and I blink.
What?!
But I recover. I ain't buying it.

Beau, though, looks at Nick and nods thoughtfully.

Nick continues. “I was an ass. . . . All I can say is, and I'm not blaming him, but it was a way to get attention from my dad. He was all ‘filthy faggots—they can make you gay, you know!' and busting on me like, ‘don't put up with fags, Nick! Are there any fags in your school?' All the time, stupid shit like that. He was like, proud of me when I jumped you. He was supposed to go to parenting classes and counseling after all the stuff happened, but he never did.”

“How are you guys now?” Beau asks, like he actually gives a dog turd. I just glare silently.

“Not good. He thinks I'm soft now because I changed after counseling.”

“Sorry, dude . . . that sucks,” Beau says quietly. His expression is sympathetic and bleak.

“Yeah,” says Nick. “Whatever.” He shrugs. “Listen, I won't keep you, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I grew up and got more mature. I'm not some fifteen-year-old asshole anymore.”

“Well, you're not fifteen, anyway!” I jeer. He glares at me briefly. I eyeball him back, nodding belligerently like, “let's go.”

He turns back to Beau and waits uncomfortably. We stand in a moment of silence till Beau speaks.

“This is absolutely cool, man.” Beau offers his hand. “We're good . . . it's all good. Thanks.”

Immediately Nick sincerely takes Beau's hand and shakes it. He and Beau are cool.

He and I, however, are not. I continue glowering. It's harder to forgive insults to your loved ones than it is to yourself.

I will, however, work on it, as I will think of this often.

They smile at each other and nod. Nick leaves, forgiven and relieved. You can tell he feels so much better, just by the way he moves.

And I will never forget this exchange . . . the day I saw the future change.

 

After our gigantic special blowout graduation dinner at Daniel's Broiler on the water, we end up at Beau's mom's house, which is closest, to simmer down and relax.

Shane is leaving tomorrow. It's the only dark spot on the mood, but whadaya going to do? He's got some hunters to fly to the North Pole or something.

He and Leo sit on the couch beside me and we all drink punch. It's been quite a day.

Which is not over yet.

Matt, Beau's stepdad, comes over and sits on a chair beside me.

“Beau told me you wrote that speech, Rylee. I'm impressed.” He smiles. I laugh.

“Such a lie—we both wrote it! But thanks,” I reply with a grin. He's a professional writer and I'm flattered.

Then he blows my mind.

“Listen, the show that I'm writing is starting up its second season. We start writing in late August. I'm going to mention your name as an intern. You could learn the ropes at first and after time, I might be able to offer you a job on the writing staff. If you're interested.” He looks at me inquiringly. “Are you?”

He hands me his card. I stand up and practically snatch it out of his hand.

“Omg, Yes!!!YES!! Yes!! YES! YES!!” I jump around. Matt looks worried at my delight.

“Like I said, it doesn't start for a few weeks, and it's not a paid position at first,” Matt repeats as he watches my joy uneasily. “Rylee, you know that writing for TV is a depraved, horrendous, antisocial career, right? Your days are filled with last-minute rewrites and cheesy sound effects, as well as the constant slogging butt-deep through people's megalomaniacal horsesh—”

“YES! No! I get it!” I holler. “Yeah, that's cool. Wow. Thanks!” I continue bopping around.

I am so stoked. This is awesome!

Even if I don't like it, this will look good on a résumé. But something tells me I'm gonna like it—a LOT!

 

The next day I wake in my own bed, with the sweet sense of a job well done.

Till I remember it's the day I told Shane I would give him a ride to the float planes, where he's meeting another pilot buddy, who will then immediately fly him home.

Doleful thoughts. Sad face.

Shane is over at my mom's, seeing Leo, and soon I'm going to pick him and Leonie up and go get Beau and then we will send Shane away.

And when I will ever see him again is anyone's guess. I suppose we'll be friends on Facebook. Whatever. But that's okay, right? At least I have my dignity; he has no idea I feel this way.

I roll over and haul myself out of bed.

Let's get this over with.

 

I pull up to my mom's with a sense of brooding doom. Her car is gone. I go inside.

Wait—nobody's home? Then Shane comes out of Leo's room. He does not look disheveled, which is the first thing my jealous mind makes note of. He looks serene and kind of sad. But he smiles when he sees me.

“Hey there!”

“Hey there!” I reply. “Where's lil' Leo?”

“Um, she said she isn't coming. We kind of said our goodbyes just now.”

“
What?
Is she okay?” I frown. Leo doesn't want to see him off?! I brush past Shane and go into her room. The curtains are closed and it's dark.

“What's the deal?” I ask her. She's lying on her bed. Her back is to me.

“I don't feel like it.” Her voice is suspiciously muffled. Why is she crying?