Page 90 of Boiling Point
Gabrielle
The stone steps were warm beneath me, baked smooth by the May sun filtering through the ancient oak overhead. From here, I had a clear view of the green, where rows of guests sat in white folding chairs. The ceremony moved steadily, graduate by graduate. They were in the S-names now—only a handful of students left to cross the stage.
I wasn’t technically supposed to be here. I wasn’t graduating. I wasn’t family. And I wasn’t seated in the guest section. But no one had stopped me when I’d wandered over here alone, tucked into the shadow of the stone steps leading to the old science building. And if they had, I’d have found a reason. Because Cal was out there, seated on the aisle in full academic regalia. Hood, gown, tam. Regal, unreadable, breathtaking.
And entirely out of reach.
My heart pinched as another graduate paused for a handshake and a photo. I twisted my fingers in my lap. All I wanted—really wanted—was to be beside him. Not hiding. Not stealing glances from behind a tree or scraping excuses to exist on the edges of his world.
But we were leaving for England tomorrow. And there, for the first time, he wouldn’t be keeping me a secret. The thoughtwas equal parts exhilarating and terrifying—like jumping off the high dive without knowing how deep the water was.
My phone buzzed in my lap.
Aunt Suzy.
I grimaced. Worst possible timing. Still, I swiped to answer and lifted the phone. “Hey,” I said, soft and cautious. Before I could get another word out?—
“What do you mean you’re going to England?” Aunt Suzy shrilled.
“Hang on,” I said, grabbing my purse and popping to my feet. I hurried down the length of Melvin Hall. “Let me get somewhere I can talk.”
“Where are you now? You haven’t already left, have you?” Her voice was screechy and strained.
I slipped around the side of the building, out of sight of the ceremony—and any watchful eyes. A gust of wind tugged at the hem of my dress as I tucked behind the limestone corner and braced for impact.
“I’m at commencement,” I answered. “But I stepped away.”
“Why are you at commencement?”
“A friend is walking,” I answered. Not technically a lie… “But I can talk for a minute.”
She huffed. “Okay. What’s this business about England?”
I took a deep breath. “I thought my email was pretty clear. My…boyfriend…”—another deep breath—“asked me to go with him.”
For once in her life, she was silent.
“Are you still there?”
“I’m here. I just don’t like it.”
I plopped down on a bench outside the library. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the sidewalk that shifted with the breeze. “I’m still going.” My tone was quiet but resolute.
“If your father were still alive, he wouldn’t stand for you gallivanting around the globe with someone you barely know.”
“If my father were still alive,” I countered through gritted teeth, “he’d trust my judgment. Trust me to make my own decisions.”
“Gabrielle!” she hissed.
I said nothing.
“How are you even affording this?”
“Great deal on airfare,” I lied. Well, not technically. Actually, I’d never asked Cal about the airfare. But even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered. He’d have told me not to worry, that it was already taken care of. “And we’re staying with his relatives, so no lodging cost.”
“Gabrielle, I’ve never even met this boy.”
“He’s a man, not a boy. And I’m not a child either.”
