Time Mends - Page 2/67

I threw a blanked over my face. Angel pulled it back down. “You have to take a shower. Your hair is getting yucky again.”

I ran a hand over my head and discovered she was right. When was the last time I washed it?

I still wasn’t sold on the idea of attending graduation, but I was in dire need of a shower, or at least a sponge bath. The tiny part of me that still cared about such things was appalled.

I bit my lip as I pulled myself up, too stubborn and embarrassed to scream out. The room swayed, but I managed to stay upright.

Three hours later I was deeply regretting my decision to get out of bed.

The gymnasium, which is fairly massive for a small town thanks to our obsession with basketball, was packed. Either the air conditioner couldn’t compete with that many bodies crammed together, or it wasn’t functioning. Either way, I was melting inside of the gaudy blue gown I was forced to wear over my dress. The sound system was turned up way too loud, amplifying Senator Harper’s voice to the point I feared my eardrums would burst. And I’m not sure who it was, possibly the entire senior class as a whole, but someone forgot to put on deodorant.

Why couldn’t we have graduation outside like one of those normal schools they show on TV?

“This is painful,” said the person to my left. I turned my head to meet a pair of brilliant green eyes. A tingly pain-like sensation ran across my abdomen as my heart battered itself against my ribcage. “At least you got a new car out of the deal. The rest of us have to withstand this torture without any sort of compensation.”

I could have explained how the car was most likely a political payoff from the Toyota plant in Scott County to Senator Harper, who just happened to be my grandfather. I could have theorized that he only pawned it off as a graduation gift because he personally wouldn’t ever be seen in anything less than a Mercedes. I could have even pointed out it wasn’t like I would be driving it in the foreseeable future. But all that would require actually talking to Jase, something I hadn’t done in almost a month.

For the first few weeks he tried, begged even, but eventually gave up. We lived in the same house, a mere wall separating our bedrooms, but he lived his life in the real world while I was confined to the protection of my bed. I wasn’t sure why he was talking to me now. Maybe he banked on the sentimentality of the day to make me forget how he shredded my stomach and assisted in the murder of my boyfriend.

I turned back to the stage just as Senator Harper completed his assault on good sense by promising we could live the American dream and change the world simply by the fact we’d completed our secondary education. I could only assume everyone was clapping out of sheer relief that he’d finally quit talking.

When the applause faded out a new person was positioned behind the mike. She looked a bit like Snow White - dark, bouncy hair spilling down her back in shiny waves; porcelain skin fortunate enough to never see a blemish in its eighteen years; deep blue eyes sparkling with kindness. She stood awkwardly, attempting to conceal her short, curvaceous body with her arms.

“As most of you know, I’m not really supposed to be here.” Talley’s voice shook as she addressed the room full of parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and fellow graduates. “The position of Valedictorian is reserved for the person with the highest GPA. It’s given in recognition of twelve years of hard work, of excelling academically. While I did work hard for twelve years and did pretty well in all of my classes, there was someone who worked harder, did better. This isn’t my speech to make, so it’s not my speech I’m going to give.” My best friend looked at me and gave a nervous smile. “I hope you don’t mind.”

She began reading from the sheet of paper clutched in her hands. “People will tell you tonight is a beginning, the start of a new life. I don’t believe that. Your life is what it is, it’s going to continue down the same path you’ve been ambling along since you were born. Tonight isn’t a beginning, it’s just a change.

“Grown-ups like to say the only certain things in this world are death and taxes. Well, no disrespect, but that’s a bunch of crap. There is only one certainty in this world and that is change.

“Life is change.

“When you wake up in the morning, you won’t be the same person you are today. You’ll be the the girl who danced on the table at the post-grad party or the boy who professed his love to a girl who was only vaguely aware he existed. You’ll be the person who sat through this speech. You’ll be a high school graduate. And, of course, you’re expecting that. But, the thing is, when you wake up on Monday morning, you’ll be a different person than you were the day before. And it’ll happen again on Tuesday, and Wednesday, and every single morning until the biggest change of all comes and you don’t wake up in this world again.

“To live is to change.

“You can’t stop change no more than you stop the earth from trudging around the sun, but you can influence its direction. Tonight, I beg you to commit yourself to making positive changes. Be better people than you have been. Rid yourselves of bigotries, prejudices, and pettiness. Go out in the world and do something important. Try new things and learn from your mistakes.”

Talley’s blue eyes locked onto mine. Something hidden in their depths caused pinpricks of anxiety to race up my spine. “It’s not always going to be easy, and you will, without a doubt, screw up over and over again; but the next morning you’ll wake up a new, changed person, and you’ll try again. Be strong. Be brave. And, please, be good.”

She broke the intense eye contact and flashed one of her brightest, most genuine smiles at the masses. Her thanks was swallowed up by the sound of three thousand people shuffling to their feet and applauding. I didn’t bother trying to stand - everyone would be sitting back down by the time I made it up - but Talley managed to re-capture my gaze all the same.

***

I was not the assumed Valedictorian of my class. It’s not like I’m some super-smart genius girl who aced her SATs and made As without trying. I had to work hard and study my butt off to even attempt to keep up with the other Honor’s students. In all honesty, Talley would have probably been named Valedictorian even if I had been able to finish out the school year.

The only reason I prepared a speech is because Talley and I started working on them our tenth grade year during her “power of positive thoughts” phase. We wrote them, but never showed them to one another, saving the “surprise” for graduation day. Mine was saved on my password-protected computer profile under the name “Screw Sunscreen.” A normal person would have never found it, but Talley is far from normal. She’s a Seer, and more specifically, a Soul Seer. With a touch she can reach into your brain and See your memories, thoughts, dreams, or the location of your secret graduation speech.