Page 151 of Remember Us This Way

The bird just tilts its head as if to say, Yeah dude, you’re fucking crazy, and then it struts back toward my bedside table, jumping back onto it. Only this time, it settles right on top of the fallen photo frame.

I stare at the bird for a moment when I hear Mom making her way down the hall. “Noah, you’re going to be late for Hazel’s graduation,” she calls, the sound startling the bird as it shoots back toward the window frame.

“No,” I panic, racing toward the window as it goes to take off. Only it pauses, its head swiveling back to face me, and as the sun catches on its face and lights up its eyes, I could almost swear I see that same shade of green that I’ve loved so deeply for all these years.

And then it’s gone, shooting out into the sky, and soaring high among the trees.

I gape at it, watching its beauty as it flies, knowing without a doubt that was my girl.

My heart races, filling with undeniable, bittersweet joy, something I never thought I’d ever feel again, and I smile, unable to take my eyes off it until it flies so far that it’s not even a dot in the wide open sky. For the first time in five long years, I finally feel content. At peace.

Mom’s head appears in my room, staring at me as though I’ve truly lost my mind. “Earth to Noah. You need to scram,” she says. “Oh, and close that window. You’re going to let out all the cool air.”

My brows furrow, and I look back at her. “You didn’t open it?”

“No,” she grunts with a scoff. “You know how I feel about leaving windows open. You’re going to have all sorts of rodents coming in.” She mutters to herself about having to burn down the house if that were to ever happen, and before I know it, she’s gone, leaving me staring out the window again.

Twenty minutes later, I sit in the field at East View High, the late spring sun shining over the graduates as I watch some kid in a blue cap and gown make his way up onto the stage, stopping to shake hands with Principal Daniels before receiving his high-school diploma.

I clap on cue with the rest of the audience as Zoey’s father leans in. “That’s Hazel’s newest boyfriend.”

My brow arches as I gape at the scrawny kid. “The fuck?” I mutter, my gaze sailing over him and knowing this guy is nothing but a fling to irritate her father. Linc would be rolling in his grave if he knew about this one. “What the hell does she see in him?”

“Who knows. The kid looks like he struggles to comb his own hair.”

“Forget about combing his own hair,” I mutter, trying to keep my voice down. “What if there was an emergency? How the hell is he supposed to carry her out of a burning building? He couldn’t even lift his own dick. Hazel would have to carry him instead.”

Erica leans around her husband and swats at us. “Shut up, the both of you. Flynn is lovely.”

“I’m sure he is, but he’s not gonna cut it,” I tell her. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Hazel after. I’ll set her straight.”

Erica rolls her eyes, knowing I intend to stick to my word, even if it means going toe-to-toe with Hazel James, but it’ll be fine. She’s always respected my opinion . . . most of the time.

A few more kids get their diplomas before Hazel’s name is finally called, and I sit up a little straighter, watching as a beaming smile cuts across her face. It tears me in two. She looks so much like Zoey. It’s hard to believe that she’s almost the same age as Zoey was when she passed.

A shadow passes overhead, and as Hazel makes her way up onto the stage and toward Principal Daniels, my gaze shifts to the trees, and as that same colorful bird settles onto one of the tallest branches, my jaw drops again.

No fucking way. I’m definitely going insane. Perhaps I really have taken a few too many hits to the head on the football field.

Despite not wanting to tear my eyes off the bird, I force myself to watch Hazel accept her diploma, and as the bird squawks from the trees above, I stand and clap, congratulating Hazel, just as I know Zoey would. A knowing smile spreads across Hazel’s lips, and she glances up into the trees. I can’t help but wonder just how many bedroom windows this bird has been flying through.

When the graduation ceremony comes to a close and all the graduates take off toward their loved ones, Hazel comes right for me, throwing her arms around my neck and squeezing me tight. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I tell her, pulling back and meeting her stare, the curiosity getting the best of me before I get a chance to reel it in. Or hell, maybe I just need to know if it’s time to be checked into a mental institute. “Hey, when you were getting your diploma, what were you looking at?”

“Huh?” she says way too quickly, nervousness flashing in her eyes.

“You were looking up toward the trees,” I say.

“Oh, um . . . nothing,” she says awkwardly. “I, uh, gotta go. See you later.”

She starts to scurry away, and I narrow my gaze at her back, certain she knows exactly what I’m talking about. “Don’t think we’re not going to talk about this Flynn kid later,” I call after her.

Hazel pauses, whipping back around to glare at her father. “You told him?” she hisses.

“Of course I did,” he scoffs, looking all too proud of himself. “How else am I supposed to get you to break up with him while thinking it was your idea?”

Hazel glares at her father. “Oh, we’re going to have words about this.”

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