Page 1 of Claimed by the Fallen
One
Hot sunlight beamsdown through the break in the cumulus clouds. I peer up and squint, hoping the rays will disappear soon. I can already feel beads of sweat forming on the back of my neck. My graduation gown might be thin, but the polyester material does not breathe well. Whoever thought it was a good idea to host a high school graduation outside must’ve never sat in the ninety-plus degree weather inTexas.
I turn around and glance at the audience filling my school’s football stadium. Parents, siblings, friends, and other loved ones sit in the shade cast down from the press box at the top of the bleachers. Envious of their good fortune, I pick up the program in my lap and fan my face. My best friend, Annie, convinced me to wear makeup for the occasion. I never bother with the expensive powders or foundation, but I find it’s easier to agree than argue with Annie. She’s nothing if notstubborn.
I continue to wave the glossy paper, wondering if any of the makeup will survive the humid summer heat, when one of my teachers moves to the end of my row. Ms. Stevens lifts her arms, motioning for us to stand and join the line of graduates next to thestage.
I rise and cringe as I feel the dampness on the back of my skirt. I glance at my seat and give a silent prayer of thanks that I didn’t leave a wet mark on the metal chair. I move the edges of my bright blue graduation gown to cooloff.
Following the student in front of me, I’m careful to not lose my balance in the wedges my mom insisted I wear. Normally, I wouldn’t be caught dead in the dangerous contraptions. I am not graceful by any means, but Mom purchased the designer shoes specifically for the occasion. After seeing her hopeful and excited expression, I couldn’t tell her no. Mom and Annie had been determined to break me out of all of my comfort zonestoday.
Watching the turf field beneath me, I make my way to the right of the pop-up stage positioned on the fifty-yardline.
“Frederick Hutchins,” Principal Navarro callsout.
The guy and girl ahead of me turn to each other and snicker at the use of the boy’s name. Valley Lake High School is a small school. My graduating class only boasts two-hundred and thirty-one students. Even if I’m not friends with all of my classmates, I know everyone. And I know Freddy hates to be called Frederick. I bet his mother insisted he go by the fullname.
Mrs. Hutchins is the president of the parent-teacher association at the school, and she is the epitome of a stunning housewife. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear anything I could describe as “casual”. She is obsessed with image, and I suspect she considers her son’s nickname too informal for theevent.
I watch Freddy climb the rickety stairs and walk across the stage. He shakes our vice principal’s hand and takes his diploma. He walks the line of teachers near the end of the stage, also shaking their hands. Then, Freddy faces the crowd of students and lifts his arms in the air, yelling, “WOOO!”
Several students clap and cheer back at him. I smile and shake my head. Freddy has always been a clown, and I’m sure his mother will resent her son’s antics. No doubt, they ruined the professional video she commissioned for the graduation. Maybe the videographer can perform editing magic and erase the evidence of her son’s goofybehavior.
“This is it, Ronnie,” a familiar voice says in my ear. I turn around and smile as my best guy friend, Joey, appears behind me. I’m happy to see him. We’d been disappointed when the seating arrangement made it where he and I were separated into differentrows.
Since the fourth grade, Joey and I had sat beside each other at every event which arranged students in alphabetical order. It is rare for a name to come between Messenger and Mestas, especially in our small community, but there were four months in eighth grade where a new student with the last name Messer came into our class. Thankfully, the family left Valley Lake to move closer to the city, and my best friend and I were able to sit next to each otheragain.
“This is it,” Irepeat.
Joey reaches out and taps my graduation cap. “My little Ronnie, all grownup.”
I roll my eyes and straighten the square hat. “Please. You’re barely older thanme.”
His green eyes gleam. “Six months is a long time. Annie and I have been waiting for you to grow up so we can hit up college concerts. Happy Birthday, by theway.”
I blush. “It’s not until tomorrow,” I mutter. I’ve never been a big birthday person. I hate being the center ofattention.
Joey waves away my correction. “Has Annie told you about the Young and Heart concert tomorrownight?”
“She mentioned it.” I turn back around and step forward as the lineshortens.
The microphone scratches as our principal clears his throat. “AnnetteLee.”
Speak of thedevil.
Joey puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly. I clap and hoot. We cheer for our friend as she glides across the stage in her nude stilettos, waving at us in the line. Annie is five-foot ten and a whopping one-hundred and thirty-five pounds. Though, she is far from a skeleton. Annie boasts an athletic figure. Her skin is a flawless blend of her Filipino father and white mother. Throw in her lush, chestnut hair and it isn’t hard to believe my friend could have a career as a fashion model. At the very least, she could have joined the “cool crowd” at Valley Lake High. Instead, Annie chose to be friends with my awkward self the day we met in elementary school. She’d taken pity on the quiet, shy kid in the corner, and we’ve been friends eversince.
Annie takes her diploma and continues walking until she reaches the end of the stage. Then, Principal Navarro pulls my attention from my friend as he says, “PrestonMcKenna.”
My stomach flutters. My eyes follow Preston as he steps onto the stage. Even under the shapeless polyester gown, it is easy to see his broad shoulders. Shaggy brown hair peeks out underneath his cap, curling over his ears. He receives his diploma and smiles charmingly at each of the teachers as he shakes theirhands.
I pull my eyes away from my crush. I’ve known Preston since first grade, and he’s always been cute. As we got older, his looks changed from boyish charm to rugged handsomeness. I wish I could say puberty had been just as kind to me. I’m only two inches shorter than Annie, but I don’t have any of her curves or grace. I doubt I will ever outgrow my boyish, stickfigure.
The principal calls another name, and Preston disappears into the crowd of students on thefield.
“Do you have to be soobvious?”
I wobble on my wedges as I turn to face Joey. I raise a brow. “What?”
