The People Who Know You
Saturday, June 7, 2014 — 5:18 PM
The crowd outside Barclays had barely started thinning when Jermaine realized graduation was already over.
Not emotionally.
Physically.
Chairs were being folded. Families were gathering their things. Cameras were coming out for one last picture before everyone scattered into summer.
Rome had somehow found another plate of food.
"Bro," Jermaine said, watching him eat, "you just ate."
Rome looked at him like the question offended him.
"That was ceremony food."
"So?"
"So it don't count."
Monique laughed beside them, holding her phone up.
"Both of y'all move closer."
Rome groaned.
"We been taking pictures for thirty minutes."
"And?"
"My face hurt."
"Then smile less."
Jermaine shook his head as Monique pulled them both into frame.
Click.
Another picture.
For the first time all day, there was nothing left to accomplish.
No speeches.
No names being called.
No teachers telling them where to stand.
No one reminding them what came next.
Just summer.
Jermaine looked across the plaza at the families still celebrating.
His eyes found Nasir.
His father stood several feet away with Melo, talking to a few community members who had stopped him after the ceremony.
Nasir caught Jermaine looking and smiled.
Jermaine smiled back.
Then someone stepped into his peripheral vision.
"Congratulations, Maine."
His smile disappeared before he could stop it.
Jermaine turned.
Michaela Vern.
She wore a simple black dress beneath a light jacket, her hair pulled back neatly. Nothing about her looked like she had come to cause a scene.
That was the problem.
Michaela never needed one.
She looked at the diploma in his hand.
"So you actually did it."
Jermaine gave her a small laugh.
"Apparently."
"I knew you would."
There was something familiar about the way she said it.
Not supportive.
Not dismissive.
Like she had known the answer before he ever asked the question.
Rome's eyes moved between them.
Monique noticed too.
Michaela noticed them noticing.
She always did.
"What's up, Rome?"
Rome nodded.
"I'm good."
"Monique."
"Hey, Michaela."
Michaela smiled.
"Valedictorian. Student Body President. Graduation at Barclays."
She looked around.
"You really did your thing."
Monique smiled politely.
"Thank you."
Michaela looked back at Jermaine.
"You still do that thing."
Jermaine's expression tightened.
"What thing?"
She pointed at his hand.
His thumb was rubbing against the side of his palm.
He stopped.
Rome looked down.
Monique's eyes flicked toward Jermaine.
Michaela smiled.
"That."
Jermaine laughed once.
"You still remember that?"
"I remember a lot."
The words landed differently than they should have.
Jermaine slipped his hand into his pocket.
Michaela didn't push.
That was another thing she was good at.
She knew when to leave a door closed.
"You look happy," she said.
"I am."
"Good."
A pause.
Then she glanced toward the street.
"I'll let you get back to your people."
Jermaine nodded.
"Yeah."
Michaela started walking away.
She made it three steps before turning back.
"Oh."
Jermaine looked over.
"Congratulations, Maine."
This time, he smiled.
"Thank you."
She walked away.
Rome waited until she was far enough not to hear.
"So…"
Jermaine sighed.
"Don't."
"I ain't say nothing."
"You were about to."
"I was gonna ask who that was."
"You know who that is."
"Exactly."
Monique lowered her phone.
"She reads you."
Jermaine looked at her.
"What?"
"Your body language."
He didn't answer.
Monique wasn't accusing him of anything.
She was observing.
"She knew you were nervous before you even realized you were doing that thing with your hand."
Jermaine looked down at his palm.
"It's nothing."
Rome laughed.
"That's what people say when it's definitely something."
Jermaine pushed him.
"Man, shut up."
They started walking toward the parking area.
Behind them, Barclays continued emptying.
Ahead of them was summer.
And somewhere between the two, Jermaine couldn't stop thinking about one sentence.
I remember a lot.
6:03 PM
Lia stood near the far side of the plaza, watching the last groups of graduates disappear into cars.
Deion had his arm around her waist.
She barely noticed.
Her eyes were still on Jermaine.
She saw Michaela leave.
Then she saw Jermaine laugh with Rome.
Normal.
Everything looked normal.
That should have made it easier.
Instead, something inside her tightened.
"You ready?" Deion asked.
Lia looked at him.
"Yeah."
He smiled.
"Good. Let's go."
She nodded.
Before turning away, Lia looked toward Jermaine one last time.
He wasn't looking at her anymore.
She didn't know whether that made her feel better or worse.
6:41 PM
Jermaine finally got home.
His diploma was already leaning against the wall beside his bed.
His cap sat on his desk.
He picked it up.
The little basketball detail Monique had added caught the light.
The number 32 sat quietly beneath it.
He smiled.
His phone buzzed with another notification.
Then another.
And another.
Instagram was flooded.
Graduation pictures.
Class pictures.
Barclays selfies.
Parents posting their kids.
Friends tagging friends.
People already changing profile pictures.
Jermaine opened Instagram.
Rome had tagged him in three different pictures.
Monique had posted a group shot from earlier.
Someone from school had uploaded a picture of Jermaine crossing the stage.
He liked it.
Then he saw another notification.
Michaela Vern mentioned you in a comment.
Jermaine paused.
He tapped it.
Under a picture of him holding his diploma, Michaela had written:
Congratulations, Maine. You deserve this.
He stared at it.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing that demanded a response.
Just enough to make sure he saw it.
Jermaine backed out of the post.
A few seconds later, he checked it again.
He hated that he did.
He wasn't angry.
That would've been easier.
He just didn't know what opening that door would cost him.
Downstairs, Nasir laughed at something Melo said.
Jermaine could hear them through the floor.
For a second, he considered going downstairs.
Instead, he sat on the edge of his bed.
Graduation was over.
Childhood was officially behind him.
And somehow, the past had decided it wasn't finished with him yet.