Brooke's POV.
As graduation hats are thrown into the air, a wave of various emotions rushes through me all at once. Part of me is proud - excited, but the other part of me is sad - scared to leave this part of my life behind. Being a teenager, being a kid.
That is, until I feel a certain hand wrap around mine. I don't have to look to know who's it is - long and lean fingertips, calloused palms.
"I wouldn't want to be standing next to anyone else," I hear Nick whisper into my ear, and suddenly I feel nothing but joy.
I feel tears of endearment spring into my eyes, but I push them back with a laugh,
"I love you, Nick Dobbs. I've always been in love with you, you know that? Even when I didn't act like it, all that time."
Nick beams down at me and nods, "I know."
I give his hand a squeeze and giggle, "We made it."
It's then that I feel Nick's hands just above my waist, his wiry muscles twitching as I feel my feet leave the ground. I shriek with delight, feeling like I'm flying - riding a wave of joy that nothing can knock me off of. And to top it all off, paper confetti is being sprinkled over the field.
"Let's hear it for the class of 2015!"
*******
Eventually the cheers died down and the band stopped playing, the confetti was cleared from the ground and pictures were taken with friends. Once that was all done, everything was over, and it was time to go home.
Our dinner table is set for a nice dinner; I'm not having a big party because this year I've realized that it's the quality of the people you have that matters, and not the quantity.
Forks clink together, and I watch as Josh inhales his turkey and Chloe giggles, swiping her finger into her mashed potatoes and plopping it onto his nose. Paige is happily chomping away at her meal, finally fully recovered from all the shit Brandon put her through. Today we've passed on this school to them, next year's senior class. They'll take it for granted, everyone does. And me and Nick?
"And I got to thinking, and who says we have to be scared? B, you're my soulmate. Our names are written in the stars. I never want this perfect night to end, I want to hold it all in my grasp forever, but I can't. But I can hold you, and I was thinking, well, your parents are high school sweethearts, and we could be like them one day. Together and with kids and happy," he bites his lip, clearly less confident than I am.
"Nick," I say comfortingly, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek, "I don't think we could be, I know we will be. I just know."
