Black Star Cross - 52. Graduation

Chapter 52: Graduation

“Kasey Abernacki.” the announcer proclaimed.

The principal had started announcing the names of graduating students. Kasey went up, received her diploma, shook hands with the principal, the vice principal, and some other lady, and headed back to her seat. We all applauded, even though most of us didn’t care. Her parents took pictures.

“Reginald F. Acetalia.”

There was a Reginald in our class? Looking over the brochure, I noticed that I didn’t know the names of more than half the students I was graduating with. This was not a surprise, however.

“Shawn Christopher Adams.”

Oh, that’s me! I stood up, walked to where they had directed me to walk during rehearsals yesterday, grabbed my hard-earned diploma, shook hands with all the necessary people, smiled my patented fake smile, and returned to my seat. I noticed that when I took the diploma, a camera went off. No doubt Mom was catching this momentous occasion. I could only hope that Dad was watching from Heaven. I hope I made him proud.

Unfortunately, what they gave us is only a plaque, and not the actual diploma itself. That we have to get later on. Supposedly, this is so that we don’t get our diploma right away, then proceed to kill everyone in the building, and walk away from the carnage with a high school diploma in our hands. Granted, that IS probably what I’d do, so that may be a good plan on the school’s administration’s part.

The announcer kept on announcing names. Students, some too embarrassed to give out their middle name, came up and got their phony diploma, shook hands, and went back to their seats. I’m surprised that the principal, vice-principal, and that other lady don’t all get sick from shaking so many germ-infested hands. They must boil their hands in hand sanitizer after the program.

Obviously, I passed all my exams and made good enough grades to graduate. I don’t think I was ever in any danger of not passing. Except for when I dropped out temporarily when I ran away from home. But does that really count?

“Brett Bradley Carmichael.”

Speaking of Brett, he seemed to make a full recovery since I saw him last in his house. At least he’s smiling again. Though I can’t help but to think that something was slightly off-kilter about his appearance. Like something wasn’t quite matching up. Maybe it’s me overthinking again. Regardless, the entire student section, and some of the non-student sections, of the building erupted into applause. You’d think HE was the valedictorian.

I got acceptance letters to a couple of nearby colleges. They aren’t Ivy League universities, but then again, I ain’t Ivy League material. All the accepting colleges are giving me loads of scholarships due to me living in a single-parent home and not making that much money. The fact that Dad’s not here because he died unnaturally and not because he ran off with some random waitress at a bar also helped rake in a few dollars. Hell, I’d have posed as Tiny Tim on the streets if it meant getting some more money coming my way. Now all I have to do is choose which college to go to.

“Anthony Heinmann.”

That dumb jock managed to graduate? Of course, he no doubt had help from his sports coaches so that he could maintain a certain GPA so that he could keep playing sports. And when he wasn’t playing sports, he probably only took the easiest classes. Anthony said that he was thinking about going to college, but didn’t specify which one. I’ll have to talk to him about that. Anyways, he walked up stage, took the diploma, faced the crowd, pumping his fists, smiling as a camera went off (no doubt his mom), and shook hands with the other people. I can’t see the graduation gown looking appropriate on any jock, much less Anthony.

To think that around seven months ago, we were mortal enemies. He bullied me, and I ignored him while secretly planning his very gruesome death. For four agonizing years I put up with him. Four years of torment. And the sick part? I just HAD to develop a crush on him. It was purely physical. I found his body hot. I in NO WAY found his barbaric demeanor to be romantic or erotic. No, Anthony’s the sadistic one here, not me. By the way, I WILL find that leather vest that I KNOW he has someday! I will expose you, Anthony!

But back to what I was talking about. What happens after four years of this personalized hell? He “suddenly” becomes a part-time painter, and decides to torment me in my own home, using my own mom against me! At least, that’s how I remember it. I easily kicked his ass, something I will forever remind him about, and then he had the galls to ask to stay at my place overnight. Yes, it was raining heavily, and it was freezing out, but I still should’ve made him walk or drive home in it. That would’ve taught him a lesson...maybe.

And so began our passionate love affair. Hahaha! Yeah, sure. THAT’S what it was. Couldn’t have been misconstrued as anything else, such as a complex form of survival of the fittest. How long did it take for him to come to his senses? A month or so? And even then, it was probably only because we spent a few weeks living together in Emmy’s house.

Though if he ever tries to say that I “forced” him into this relationship, I can always bring up the fact that HE kissed me FIRST. And while I was seemingly unconscious, too! How’s that for predatory behavior?

“Melissa Newman.”

Who the fuck cares about her? Anyways, I give Anthony that t-shirt that he still has, after hearing him complain about his lack of sleep (even though I myself was having trouble falling asleep at the same time as well, though for different reasons). Is he still using it to fall asleep with? Is he ever gonna give it back to me? I should take something of his and hold it hostage. Regardless, he instantly falls asleep to it that night. The next day, he comes whining at my door (okay, Emmy’s door), and in the matter of one hour, we’re officially lovers. Covert lovers, but lovers nonetheless. Exactly how does that work out? We become a couple because of a smelly t-shirt?

I’m not even going to try remembering that nightmare. That’s something that I’ll block out of my head for the rest of my life.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, and in no time at all, I was being sent back to my home with Mom and Kimberly. I miss staying at Emmy’s place terribly. It was so peaceful there. Naturally, as soon as we got home, the tension arose again, and soon it became like it always was, as if nothing dramatic had ever happened.

How on earth did I manage to get Anthony to do ANYTHING sexual with me? The first few attempts early on ended in disaster, mainly because we weren’t technically a couple yet, and Anthony was most definitely working on some issues in his head at the time. Probably his “am I gay or straight or what?” dilemma. I mean, kissing was fine and all, even if half of the time it ended in a fist fight, but getting him to do so much as strip to his boxers was a miraculous feat in itself.

Great. Now I’m hard underneath my gown (I hope I can never say that ever again...EVER) just thinking about the first time I got him to do anything sexual to me. Granted, mutual masturbation can only satisfy so much, and I didn’t even get to see any of him below the waist line due to the sheets covering us up, but it was still freaking hot nonetheless.

Have we ever had sex in my house? I don’t think so. Mom’s always been home. Then again, several times Anthony’s mom was home as well, and yet that didn’t stop Anthony from inviting me over to “study.” Oh, we “studied” alright...human anatomy, to be exact. I wonder what it’d be like to have sex with him on my own bed? I’ll have to convince him to try that before I head off to college.

And speaking of sexual encounters, I couldn’t help but to chuckle at our attempted first try at oral sex, in retrospect. At the time, of course, it was nearly disastrous. The only thing that made it a success was our climaxes. Now, looking back on it, it was really kinda comical. Why did I think that we would somehow be professionals right from the get go. Neither of us even had an internet connection in order to look this stuff up. At least we both got better with more practice. Of course, we still aren’t perfect, so MUCH more practice is to be needed.

“Keith Steele.”

And about Keith. Son of a bitch. I think that about sums it up. Seriously, why is Anthony friends with him? Is Keith blackmailing him into friendship? And the bastard has far more brains that he should have. Manipulative little weasel. Even Brett admits it. How does this guy have brawn and brains? That’s cheating! That’d be like me being able to star in the next Super Bowl as the quarterback. You can’t have it all. It’s against the rules. I’m sure of it!

Keith strides up there, looking all confident and smug. No doubt he was never in any danger of failing. He probably didn’t even take all easy courses like the rest of the jocks. Stupid smart jock. And yet, he somehow even manages to show a hint of kindness and compassion every now and then, like with the whole Brett fiasco. Seriously, now he’s a jock with a heart of gold as well? Why didn’t they crown him prom king if he’s so perfect and all? Instead they crown some nobody that nobody likes because Brett refused to accept the crown. Or so I’m told. I certainly didn’t go to prom. I’m just hearing what everybody said that following Monday in the halls.

Pretty soon, all the names had been read off, and everybody present had received their phony diploma. We cheered; everybody else cheered; there was cheering to go around. We exited the building in a fascist fashion, going two by two down the row in step by step formation. We might as well have been carrying guns and going “Hail Hitler!” as we were doing it. I should’ve done it myself. Our next stop was outside.

Underneath the building’s sign, not that the sign was important or anything, it just was the perfect place to stand, we all gathered around for the ceremonial tossing of our caps. I located Anthony talking to Keith and made my way over. Keith spotted me before Anthony did, said something to Anthony, and headed off elsewhere.

“Hey,” I said, making my presence known.

“Hey, dude!” he said back, excitedly. “We’re finally done with high school! Can you believe it?!”

“Yes I can, actually. I was praying for it to happen for quite some time now,” I said, less enthusiastically.

“Dude, I’m going to host SO MANY parties this summer! It’s going to be off the hook! I plan on getting smashed tonight!”

“I suppose it does call for a celebration that all you dumb jocks managed to pass for at least thirteen years of schooling.”

He punched my arm. “Dude. Quit it with the ‘dumb jock’ jokes already. It’s not funny anymore.”

“Oh it will always be funny to me,” I countered.

“I’ll beat you up, dude. Don’t think that I won’t. I got a diploma now, so they can’t expel me anymore.”

“Firstly, that ‘diploma’ you’re holding is a fake, remember? And secondly, don’t you think it’d be embarrassing for our entire class to see you having your ass handed to you by little ole me?”

“I don’t care if I am wearing a dress, I will still beat you to a bloody pulp here and now, dude.”

“Bros,” came Keith. “If you’re through with your petty marital squabble...”

“We’re not a married couple!” Anthony and I said simultaneously. Okay, that did NOT help our cause.

“Yeeeeeah,” replied Keith. “Anywho, we’re about ready to toss our caps.”

Anthony and I both turned toward the front, where the cameraman was. He signaled for everyone to get ready.

“On the count of three. One...two...three!”

We all took our caps off and threw them into the air. I noticed the flash of light coming from the camera. I can see Mom wanting a picture of that as well. I’m pretty sure that whatever cap I caught was not originally mine. The owner better not have had lice.

Once the picture was taken, we were pretty much free to do whatever we wanted. Someone started passing out cheap cigars to everyone. I declined mine. Anthony didn’t hesitate for a second in taking his and someone nearby started passing around a lighter. He lit his and started puffing away. I walked up to him.

“You know, I don’t make out with people who have gum disease.”

“Dude, I’m not going to make a habit of this. I’m just celebrating right now. I graduated, dude! I bet some of my relatives just lost a bet on that one!” he laughed.

“Anthony, so many other people besides your relatives just lost a bet on that one.”

“Yeah whatever, dude.”

He went off to talk to his jock buddies, presumably those often-referenced buddies of his that he shoots hoops with. I started looking around at the scenery around me. It was a nice day to have a graduation. It did feel like the ending of an era. A nice ending, though. My life as a simple student was done, and my next life as an adult in the real world was about to begin. At least, starting in the fall. Until then, I fully expect to take advantage of my last free summer by sexing Anthony until he dies of asphyxiation.

Looking at Anthony, laughing and joking with his friends, I smiled to myself. Yeah, I did love the big, dumb jock. And I knew that he loved me. The words might not be said often enough, but the feeling was there. I can only hope and pray that our relationship will last longer than the next couple of months. I’ll have to start hassling him about that.

I looked up at the sky. No, it wasn’t a cloudless sky. This isn’t some cliched-riddled story that ends on a beautiful, picturesque day. But still, somehow, I know...that Dad is smiling down on me, proud of me, and happy that I’m finally happy with myself.

The End