Page 12 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
Though, being in her presence gives me hope I can get back what I’ve lost. With her. With us.
Eventually…
The ceremony starts, snapping me out of my thoughts. Our principal says something about grit. The valedictorian quotes Rumi. The mic cuts out three times and nobody fixes it. By the time they start calling our names, Liam’s dozing and I’m halfway there myself. Until…
“Stevie Hayes.”
Her name rings out and my eyes fly open. I sit up taller without meaning to as I watch Stevie stand and throw both arms in the air. She struts toward the stage like it’s a runway. The whole gym claps louder, probably because everyone loves her.
Me, most of all.
When she takes her diploma, she turns to wink at me before she disappears behind the curtain. My heart’s thudding and I’m grinning like a goddamn love-sick fool.
Liam elbows me and rolls his eyes. “Jesus.Do you ever stop eye-fucking her?”
I ignore him and resume my nap. After a million years, we finally hear, “Liam McGloughlin.”
My brother stands slowly. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t wave. Walks to the stage to a chorus of whoops from the bleachers and winces, as though today is a punishment and not a cause for celebration. He takes the diploma, nods at the principal, then disappears behind the stage curtain.
I turn to see where my family ended up in the stands. Connor’s at the edge of the row, in his work clothes. Seamus is practically bouncing in his seat, whispering something to Cillian who looks like he’s about to slug him. Brennan is focused on his phone. There’s an empty seat beside Ma.
“Padraig McGloughlin.”
Stevie’s voice cuts through the gym again. “WOOOOOOOO PADRAIG!”
I swear I see the principal flinch. Managing to keep steady, I cross the stage. Shake his hand. Take the diploma. Smile for the camera. When I turn, I see Ma with her hands over her mouth, in tears. Seamus and Brennan wave like I won a Grammy. Cillian pretends not to care. Connor nods once, tightly.
No Da. What a fuckin’ prick.
Afterward, the entire graduating class explodes onto the football field.
Photos. Shouts. Throwing caps. Horns honking. Parents crying.
Stevie sprints through the chaos, tassel flying behind her like a ribbon. She jumps straight into my arms.
“We’re officially done!” She kisses me once, twice. Her mouth’s warm and sweet. My heaven.
I don’t know how I got this lucky.
Lucinda, Stevie’s mom, materializes in full modern-hippie glory. She wears a long, silk caftan in swirls of coral and green, huge sunglasses that probably cost more than my drum kit, and exudes a warm, grounding energy.
“My boys,” she coos, hugging both Liam and me at once like we belong to her too. “We’re so proud.”
Liam shifts under her arms but doesn’t pull away.
Stevie’s psychologist dad, Hank walks up in shorts, a Hawaiian shirt and Birkenstocks over ankle socks. “Tacos are going to be epic. Cakes are in the fridge. We’ve got both chocolate and lemon, because someone,” he nods at Stevie, “threw a fit about it.”
“It wasnota fit. I was communicating a respectful request.” She smiles at her dad affectionately.
“Is the whole clan coming?” Hank asks. “Liam you’ll be there, right?”
My twin doesn’t answer, just raises an eyebrow.
Hank nods and looks away. He knows all about my da. They used to be best friends, and now…
Liam turns and walks away. Heads to the truck.
“I’ll make sure he shows up,” I assure Stevie’s dad.
