Chapter 2 - What She Told Them
My aunt Julie found me sitting outside a closed pharmacy, still wearing my graduation gown.
She pulled over crookedly and got out without shutting her car door.
“Oh, honey.”
That was all it took.
I cried against her shoulder until my throat hurt.
Julie was my mother’s younger sister.
After Mom died six years earlier, she became the person I called when being fine got too exhausting.
In her kitchen, she put a glass of water beside me.
“Tell me everything.”
I showed her Owen’s messages.
Her expression changed.
“Did you tell anyone you didn’t want them there?”
“No.”
“Not even during an argument?”
“I gave Dad his ticket myself.”
He had put it beneath the fruit bowl.
For weeks, I checked to make sure it was still there.
Julie’s phone rang.
Dad.
She answered on speaker.
“Is she with you?”
“She’s safe.”
“Put her on.”
“You can ask.”
I shook my head.
Dad exhaled sharply.
“She embarrassed me in front of half the neighborhood.”
Julie looked at my damp gown hanging over a chair.
“Did you hear yourself?”
“You weren’t there.”
“Neither were you.”
Silence.
Then Dana’s voice came through, farther away.
“We were told she only had one ticket.”
I sat upright.
“That’s a lie.”
Dad heard me.
“Emma, I’m not doing this over the phone.”
“You’re doing it right now.
I had four tickets.”
“Dana said—”
“I texted you the picture.”
He didn’t answer.
I opened our conversation.
Four blue tickets lay on my desk in the photo.
Underneath, I had written:
One for you, Dana, Owen, and Aunt Julie. Please don’t be late.
Dad had replied with a thumbs-up.
Julie read it over my shoulder.
“Mark,” she said quietly.
“Check your phone.”
“I’m driving.”
“Then check when you stop.”
He wanted to come get me.
Julie told him I was eighteen and could decide where to sleep.
For once, someone said that like it mattered.
After the call, I went to wash my face.
When I came back, Julie had opened the bakery box sitting on her counter.
Inside was a small white cake.
CONGRATULATIONS, EMMA.
“I was bringing it tomorrow,” she said.
“Your dad told me the school moved the ceremony.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?”
“He said it was Saturday.”
May you like
My graduation had been Friday.
And suddenly, an empty chair wasn’t the worst thing that had happened.
