The morning of graduation arrived with a heavy, oppressive, humid heat that promised a brutal summer.
The small apartment was a flurry of chaotic activity. Chloe, still moving slowly, was helping me pack the massive, mismatched diaper bag with an absurd amount of supplies. Ethan emerged from his bedroom, adjusting the collar of his cheap, rented, polyester graduation gown. It was slightly too short in the sleeves, exposing his calloused wrists.
He looked at Chloe, who was gently bouncing a fussy Lily in her arms.
“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Chloe asked, biting her lower lip nervously. “Ethan… my parents. They’re going to be there. My father is on the school board. They’re sitting in the VIP section right at the front. If they see us…”
Ethan walked over, his face unreadable. He reached out and stroked Lily’s tiny, soft cheek. Then, he looked at me. He wrung the hem of his blue graduation sleeve, a nervous childhood habit he’d had since he was five years old whenever he was about to do something terrifying.
