From What I Remember (47 page)

“Get in the vehicle, kids,” Officer Kwan instructs us. “It’s the only one big enough that’s available right now. Officer Spittani is going to drive you back to school. If you have a shot in hell of getting to graduation at all, you’re going to have to leave the driving up to us. I’ll have someone bring your car around later.”

Without saying much of anything, probably because we’re too much in shock, we all file into the van. There are rusted benches on either side, and as Officer Kwan shuts the heavy metal doors at the back, Charlie, Lily, and I settle onto one bench while Kylie, Will, and Juan sit on the other, across from us. All we’re missing are the handcuffs.

A police officer sits in the driver’s seat. This is obviously Officer Spittani. He turns and talks to us through the wire cage that separates the front from the cargo area.

“You kids ready to rock and roll? Seat belts on, we’re gonna go pretty fast.”

Officer Kwan waves as we peel out and back onto the highway, sirens blaring.

Despite the minor detail that we will be arriving at school looking a lot like common criminals, I am psyched. Because we actually might make it in time for graduation. The mood starts to shift.

“I don’t believe it,” Charlie says. “Juan, you the man.”

“I try,” Juan offers, smiling.

Will reaches over and squeezes Lily’s shoulder, “You rock, Lily Wentworth. Even though you can be a huge beyatch, I feel like kissing you.”

“Yeah, don’t push it, Bixby,” Lily says.

Kylie looks at me and smiles for the first time since Manuel’s house. “Thanks,” she says.

“I didn’t do anything,” I say. “It was all Lily and Juan.”

“You tried. Thanks for that. And thanks, Lily,” Kylie says. She and Lily lock eyes for a minute. I’m sure a million thoughts are exchanged between them in those six seconds. Things I’ll never understand.

“You’re welcome. Now, do your part and rock out that speech. Make us pay attention,” Lily says.

“’Kay,” is all Kylie offers.

We all sit back, glued to our seats by the sheer force of velocity. The siren blasts. Red-and-white beams flash and whirl from the top of the van as we speed through San Diego at light speed.

heck it out, buddy,” Dad says, pointing to Kylie’s name in the program. I already saw it. She’s the thirty-fifth name on the list. I looked for it as soon as we got the programs. Her name is also listed on the front, as valedictorian. And on page six, under
Honors
. According to the program, Kylie gives her speech and then the headmaster and then the commencement speaker, who is some guy named John Block. Then, I think, they name all the seniors, and people come up and get their diplomas. Last night, I decided I wasn’t coming to graduation. I didn’t care about seeing Kylie. I stopped wanting to see her at 9:15 p.m. when I found out she lied to us. She’s never done that before. Mom said she must have a really good reason. Mom told me that if I didn’t come, Kylie would be disappointed. I didn’t care. But then I woke up this morning and I wanted to see her again. She still wasn’t home so I decided to come to graduation.

Mom made me put on my khaki pants and my blue blazer and a tie. My neck feels really big in this tie. I want to take it off and throw it in the bushes. But Mom would be mad. It’s my only tie. My sunglasses keep slipping down my nose.

When we got here Kylie wasn’t here. We’ve been waiting twenty-eight minutes and she still isn’t here. Mom says she’s on her way. We’re sitting on foldout chairs on the big lawn near the library. All the graduating seniors are sitting in foldout chairs across the lawn. Almost all the chairs have filled up, but there are still five empty chairs. One of them must be Kylie’s.

“Do you think Kylie’s coming?” I ask Mom.

“Of course she is,” Mom says. Mom and Dad keep looking at each other. They’re worried about Kylie. They’re wondering why she’s not here. Just like me.

If I were graduating from high school I would be the very first one in my chair.

Why is she taking so long? She’s never away from home. And now it feels like she’s never home. I guess this is what it’s going to feel like when she goes away to college. I don’t like it. I’m going to miss her. A whole lot.

There’s a guy on the stage who keeps tapping the microphone. This horrible screeching sound is coming out of it that makes me want to put my fingers in my ears, but I know Mom doesn’t like when I do that. She says it’s disrespectful. I hope he fixes it.

Dad made us stop on the way here to buy some flowers for Kylie. I got to choose them. I picked out yellow roses with these tiny white flowers mixed in. I’ve been holding them for forty-six minutes. They’re starting to wilt because it’s really hot. They probably should be in water. I’m afraid they’re going to die. I keep spitting on them to keep them wet, but I don’t think it’s working.

I am wearing two watches—one digital on my left arm and one analog on my right arm—and they both say the same time,

12:16. Where is Kylie? The headmaster takes the stage. People applaud. I don’t. I can’t. I’m still holding the flowers.

“Welcome, everyone,” the headmaster says. “Sorry to get started a little late; we were just giving our graduation speaker some extra time. We’re not quite sure where she is.”

He’s talking about Kylie. He’s wondering about her, too, just like me and Mom and Dad. I look for Will. I don’t see him, either. They must be together. I don’t know anyone else to look for. What if Kylie never comes? What if they call her to give her speech and she’s still not here? I wonder what will happen.

I hear a police siren. It’s loud and getting louder, coming closer and closer. I stand up and look out at the street. A police van stops in front of the school. Everyone is turning around in their seats and staring at it. It’s practically on the lawn. A police officer climbs out of the front seat and goes around to the back to open the doors. That’s when Kylie gets out.

he van screeches to a stop outside of Freiburg, careering over the sidewalk and onto the lawn. Officer Spittani gets out and unlocks the door for us. I’m about to jump out when Lily grabs my hand, stopping me.

“What?” I ask her.

“Just wait a minute.” Lily pulls a tube of lipstick out of her bag. Expertly, she dots my cheeks and lips, rubbing in the color with the focus of a makeup artist. She runs her hands through my hair, fluffing my curls. And then she takes out hand lotion, using it to smooth away flyaways.

“Okay. Go,” Lily instructs. “Do this thing.”

“’Kay, thanks…” I say, too thrown to say much else.

I scramble out of the police van and burst onto the lawn to find my entire graduating class, their friends and family, staring at me. Shit. What an entrance. Not exactly what I was going for. I was kind of hoping to just walk up to the podium quietly, no spotlight, and plow through my mediocre speech as quickly as possible. But that’s all gone to hell.

Max, Charlie, Lily, Will, and Juan stumble out after me. We all stand motionless for a moment. Shock and awe is probably the best way to describe our communal reaction. We stare out at the audience. They stare back at us. I try to spot Jake, Mom, and Dad in the crowd, but can’t find them.

I can only imagine what everyone is thinking. I’m wearing the bright fuchsia Mexican wedding dress. Will has his Carhartt overalls on, and Max, Lily, and Charlie give new meaning to graduation casual in their shorts, jeans, and T-shirts. Lily has got to be bummed she didn’t have time to change. She’s always got the perfect outfit for every social occasion. This is nowhere near graduation chic. And, of course, we’ve all just climbed out of a police van most often used to transport prisoners, not graduating seniors.

Headmaster Alvarez marches toward us, and to say he doesn’t look happy would be understating it by a mile.

“What is going on here, Officer? Is there a problem?” Alvarez asks Officer Spittani, who, as it turns out, is a man of very few words. He didn’t say a thing the entire way to school, but he did haul ass, getting us here in record time. He’s clearly a man of action.

“No problem at all. The kids just needed a little help getting to graduation on time,” Officer Spittani replies. He turns to us. “Good luck, guys. And congratulations.”

We all offer up an earnest round of thanks. Officer Spittani hops back into the van and drives off, leaving us with Alvarez.