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THIRTY-EIGHT

KIT

Black eyeliner smeared my cheek as I jolted, surprised at the sudden jingle of my ringtone.

TRENT

Thirty Minutes Until Graduation! Pick you up in ten!

The mandatory mini-camp kept Trent occupied with football things and all week, at first, I’d been glad. I liked Trent too much. I needed space. But, as the week wore on, loneliness set it and the texts never stopped.

TRENT

Good morning, Kitten! How’d you sleep?

I friended the Cougar’s new owner! He’s got a blog and he’s fixing our car up!

Did I leave our rally trophy at your apartment? I want to bring it to the stadium and show all the guys.

If we’re just friends, you’ve got to message me back.

Dozens of texts and a phone call every night, like clockwork. Strictly friendly. Not a single whiff of flirtation.

I hated that I noted the absence. Worse, I hated how much I missed him.

I’ll meet you downstairs. Let me know when you pull up.

Before I convinced myself to wipe it off, I finished applying makeup and gave my reflection a smile.

The only reason I’d pulled out the makeup was a secret perversion intended to wow Trent, and I’d failed miserably. My eyeshadow looked unnatural and my mascara clumpy. The adorable pink dress I’d picked out with Derek earlier in the week felt childish and oddly overdressed now that I’d put it on. The sweetheart neckline was too low and the flared skirt too puffy.

The urge to call and cancel was overwhelming.

But I wanted to see Trent, and my graduation was the only excuse left.

I slipped my phone into my purse and stepped away from the mirror. No matter what happened tonight, I’d at least get a nice meal.

My nerves jangled. I marched to the kitchen, rifling through the cabinet over the fridge where Derek and I stashed the alcohol we only drank when we were already wasted. Pulling down a dusty bottle of tequila, I took a swig, pacing the kitchen.

TRENT

Pulling up in five.

I replaced the bottle and smoothed out my dress. My cap and gown sat on the couch, and I scooped it up on the way out the door.

I threw my shoulders back as I exited the elevator, channeling a version of me that was happy, healthy, and thriving. Not the reality: sad, frumpy, and failing.

My stride faltered when I caught sight of Trent waiting for me in the lobby. He wore a blue suit and tie, a ridiculously gigantic bouquet in his hand. His jaw dropped as his eyes roved down my body, pausing at my chest and then again down my legs, infusing me with a confidence I didn’t have in front of the mirror.

“Hey.” I knocked Trent out of his temporary stupor. “Are those for me?”

He nodded, holding out the bouquet.

I took the green tissue paper wrapped roses. “These are really nice. You didn’t have to do that.”

“You deserve it.” He reached out, his fingers grazing my forearm and sending shivers down my spine. As he leaned closer, his subtle smell of salt and leather overcame the flowers and he brushed his lips across my cheek. “Ready to graduate?”

I nodded, my throat tight, and followed Trent to his car.

No, not his car. Or at least one I hadn’t seen before.

“Is this yours?” I asked as he paused at the passenger door of a red El Camino.

“Yeah.” His eyes sparkled at the admission. “It’s new. Well, not new, obviously, but new to me.”

“What made you buy an El Camino?”

But even as the words came out, it felt so perfectly Trent: an absolute showboat of a car, cocky but surprisingly versatile. He was born to drive an El Camino.

He heaved a sigh, opening the door for me. “I missed the Cougar, and I was thinking about our next rally.”

Our next rally.

“Trent,” I whispered.

There couldn’t be another rally. I’d already lost my heart to Trent on the first. I’d never recover from a second. Even if I could keep us strictly friends.

He took the flowers from my hand and set them on the hood of the car, pinning me between the open door and the car.

“I miss when you called me Texas,” he breathed. His hand cupped my cheek. “Our next rally, Kitten. You and me and this El Camino.”

A “yes” lodged in my throat, but I couldn’t force it past the lump in my throat. I sucked in a breath, pushing him away. “We should go, or else I’m going to miss my graduation.”

His mossy green eyes searched mine before stepping back with a nod.

I sat in a sea of blue graduation gowns on the floor of the Norwalk Arena and Civic Center while onlookers found seats. The university president patted the microphone on stage, a buzz of feedback shocking the crowd into silence.

I’d given up on looking for Trent. Friends and family of nearly 500 graduates packed the bottom bowl of the 10,000-seat arena. The crowd was a sea of anonymous faces, and I tapped my foot, eager for the ceremony to finish. Though how I’d find Trent afterwards was beyond me.

The graduation ceremony began, and I focused on the speakers on-stage. They talked about the future, about education, about growing. The bright-eyed twenty-year-olds around me listened with rapt attention but my focus kept slipping to the conversation Trent and I had almost shared.

Our next rally.

I hated how much I wanted it to be true. But I had to put up a firm wall between myself and Trent before the football season did it for us. As much as I wanted to play in the space between friendship and romance, I wouldn’t recover as easily as Trent when he inevitably drifted away.

The row in front of me stood up to file onto the stage. They received their diplomas one-by-one, shaking hands with the president and then cocking their heads toward their screaming loved ones.

A quick stab of sadness ripped through me. I should have called my mom and invited her. Hell, I should’ve asked Derek to come. Trent would be a cheering section of one, and while I appreciated his support, I couldn’t help wishing I’d asked someone who would still be in my life come fall.

“Hey, we gotta walk.” A guy from my virology class tapped my shoulder, pointing toward the empty seats beside me.

I stood up, shuffling in my heels to close the gap my daydreaming had caused.

The speaker called the semi-familiar names of my classmates one-by one, pausing between each for the muted applause and obnoxious yelling from their friends and family.

“Katherine Holden.”

I stepped onto the stage, stopping mid-step, stunned by a roar of screaming and cheering.

Just past the stage in the front two rows sat not just Trent, but Derek, Gavin, my mom, my coworkers, the Foul Boules. I bit back tears, willing my feet to move and accept my diploma even as graduates and spectators turned in their seats to search for the source of all that noise.

Cheers. For me.

In a fog, I moved off the stage, waving at my friends and family.

“You did it, Kitten!” Trent whooped.

Shakily, I walked back to my seat, ducking my head to wipe my tears. The graduation droned on as more graduates filed across the stage. I hiked up my gown, pulling my phone out of my pocket.

Did you fly my mom back to Virginia for my graduation?

TRENT

Are you supposed to be texting right now?

How did you convince everyone to show up here?

Three dots bounced on the screen while more names were announced on stage.

TRENT

I asked them. It’s this really cool trick I just found out about, actually. You ask for what you want. And sometimes, people say yes.

For you.

TRENT

Nope, for you, Kitten. I didn’t have to convince a single person up here. I told them you were graduating, and they wanted to come.

I wiped away a tear while pocketing the phone. The president stepped away from the center of the stage and stood behind the podium. With a few final words, I had officially graduated.

The alma mater played as the professors walked off stage. I stood in line, shuffling back through the arena entrance and outside. Sun blinded my eyes, and I covered them with my cap, not finding a single familiar face in a sea of people.

“Katherine!”

I spun around just as my mom wrapped me tightly in a hug. “Mom!”

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to invite me.” She sobbed into my hair, and I started crying just as hard.

“I didn’t want to make you come back. You just moved.”

“And miss this? You’re too stubborn for your own good, just like your dad.” The tears flowed even harder at that. “You’re lucky you have a nice boy like Trent to watch out for you.”

“He’s just a friend,” I hiccuped, collapsing into the familiar smell of vanilla cashmere lotion. “But a really good friend.”

“I hate to break it to you, Katherine.” My mom lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Friends don’t fly friend’s moms across the country first-class.”

I staunched the tears and laughed. “Well, you’ve never had a friend in the NFL before.”

“That’s true.” She pulled back, her soft gray eyes committing to memory my face. “I am so proud of you and so thankful I could come watch this.”

“It was a very long, boring ceremony.”

“I sat between Trent and Derek. It was lively as hell in our corner of the arena. I’m only sorry you couldn’t sit with us.” Mom sighed. “Good thing there’s the afterparty!”

“Afterparty?” I asked just as Trent slid in next to my mom. “I thought we were just doing a dinner thing?”

“It is a dinner.” He shared a smile with my mom. “And a dessert bar and a cocktail hour.”

Derek limped up, kissing my cheek. “What’s a graduation without a proper party? We won’t stay out past eleven.”

Enveloped in the love of my friends and family, how could I say no?