Page 147 of For the Boys
Berkley glared at her little sister. “You come talk to me when you’ve had the love of your life break your heart, Jessica. Then we’ll see how you feel.”
Berkley sucked in a deep breath as if she could unsay the words that just left her mouth.
“Love of your life?” Logan asked. “You love him so much you’ve been moping around for two weeks, refusing to speak to him?”
“No one asked you, Logan,” Berkley said.
“Now, now, children,” their mom said, “if we don’t get this show on the road, we’re going to be late. Berkley, go up and fix your makeup. I’ll steam your gown.”
Thirty minutes later, they were all piled in the Daniels family Tahoe, headed toward downtown and the Fox Theater.
When they walked in the door, Berkley’s mother kissed her cheek, and her dad squeezed her shoulder, saying, “We’re going to go find our seats. See you after.”
“See you,” Berkley said, turning to make her way toward her waiting friends.
Within a few minutes, she found Harper and Reece, and they made their way into the theater to take their seats. She was grinning and laughing, putting on a rather impressive show, if she did say so herself. She hadn’t told anyone but her inner circle about her and Brent splitting up, not wanting to deal with the pity or the prying questions that would surely follow such an announcement.
So she’d bottled up her hurt, her anger, her sadness over the fact that he should be sharing this day with her, and buried it all deep inside her.
She was getting her law degree, and she’d be damned if she let a little heartbreak ruin it.
She, Harper, and Reece reached the seats reserved for the graduates. Congratulations flew through the air like rice at a wedding. She posed for selfies, group photos, and the professional photographer working his way around the room documenting the momentous occasion.
Finally, professors, local lawyers, the law school dean, and the Wayne State University president all shuffled onto the stage.
It was game time.
Speeches were made, first by professors, then by the class’s chosen keynote speaker, who happened to be a local female politician who had also attended law school at Wayne State. Each speaker specialized in a different area of law, and their speeches reflected that.
And then, the dean of the law school stood to address the audience.
“Graduates,” he said, “I speak for myself, all of these men and women behind me, and all of your loved ones here in the audience when I say congratulations.”
He paused as Berkley and her classmates cheered.
“Over the course of your studies here, you have faced challenge after challenge and yet have persevered through all of them to become the talented, knowledgeable, impressive future attorneys I see before me. You have continued to amaze me and the rest of the faculty over and over with your dedication to your craft. There have been numerous moments over the years that have made me stop and think how grateful I am to be the dean of this law school, but never more so than on days like today, when I get to watch all of you, who stepped into your first class three years ago, fresh out of undergrad with absolutely no idea what lay ahead of you, walk across this stage and accept your diplomas. I don’t know what the future holds for each of you, but as you have demonstrated time and time again in the last three years, I know it will be amazing. You all are going to change so many lives, and I hope you look back on your time with us fondly. I hope you carry all that you have learned during your time here with you for the rest of your careers and lives. Once again, congratulations. I am so proud to be your dean, and know you’ll always be family here at Wayne State Law.”
The entire theater erupted in cheers and applause, and several people in the audience wiped tears from their eyes.
Berkley’s insides were broken, her heart shattered, but she was moments away from officially being a law school graduate. With that thought, her face broke into a smile, the first real one she’d had in weeks.
And so, the procession across the stage began. Each graduate paused next to a woman at the top of the steps to the stage, telling her their name so she could relay it to the dean as they crossed to accept their pseudo-diploma. This practice allowed friends to enjoy the ceremony together instead of making students sit in alphabetical order, and it ensured names were pronounced correctly.
“Reece Bennett!” the dean announced, and Reece strode forward, head held high while the tiny tassel on his cap swayed excitedly.
“Harper Park!” Harper squeezed Berkley’s hand as she followed Reece and accepted the rolled-up piece of paper the dean handed to her.
“Berkley Daniels!” Berkley stood proud and made her way to the dean, accepting his outstretched hand with hers. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Berkley heard her father yell from the balcony.
“Congratulations, Miss Daniels,” the dean said to her.
“Thank you,” she said before heading off the stage, returning to her seat next to Reece and Harper.
An hour later, all three hundred of her classmates had crossed the stage. They sat in anticipation of the moment when they could officially be free of law school.
The dean stepped to the lectern. The moment was upon them.
“Graduates, please rise,” he said. The auditorium quieted save for the sound of three hundred law students rising to their feet.
