DEATH IS LIFE | SCREAM

17 Graduation

TATUM STOOD IN FRONT OF HER FULL LENGTH MIRROR, inspecting her reflection. The deep emerald dress hugged her figure perfectly, accentuating her curves without drawing too much attention to her still-healing collarbone. Today felt different; a strange mix of pride and anticipation swirled inside her. Graduation day was finally here—a milestone that stirred something within her, even if she wasn't quite sure what it meant.

"Okay, Tatum. You've got this," she whispered, adjusting the straps and smoothing out any imaginary wrinkles. She felt beautiful, the color complementing her pale skin and dark hair. Just as she turned to head downstairs, a knock at the door interrupted her.

It was her mom, Gale, beaming with pride. "Wow, Ace! You look beautiful!"

"Thanks," Tatum replied, trying to sound casual despite the warmth creeping into her cheeks.

But then Gale's expression shifted. "Where's your neck brace?"

Tatum rolled her eyes. "Mom, my clavicle is healing. I'm not going to break my neck again," she said, trying to sound convincing. She knew she should wear it; her neck wasn't fully healed yet. But the thought of wearing that clunky thing all day felt suffocating.

"I'll be careful, but I'm not going to wear it," Tatum insisted, crossing her arms defiantly.

Gale sighed, knowing her daughter was stubborn. "Just promise me you'll be cautious, okay? It's a big day for you."

"Promise," Tatum said, lightening her tone. "Now let's get this ceremony over with."

They drove to the graduation ceremony, excitement buzzing in the air. The school gymnasium was decorated, rows of chairs filled with graduates waiting for their moment to walk across the stage.

As Tatum sat there, she felt nostalgia mixed with relief. She thought about the tough moments of the past year—the injuries, therapy sessions, and her struggle to connect with others. But today, she was closing a chapter and starting anew.

When her name was finally called, Tatum stood up, her heart racing. As she walked across the stage, applause surged like a wave, drowning out her thoughts. She grabbed her diploma and flashed a confident smile, momentarily forgetting everything else.

After the ceremony, Gale rushed over, enveloping Tatum in a warm embrace. "I'm so proud of you, Ace! You did it!"

"Thanks, Mom," Tatum replied, feeling her mother's pride wrapping around her.

"Are you ready to celebrate?" Gale asked, excitement evident.

Tatum nodded, eager for the next part of the day. They met up with Gale's new boyfriend, Brooks, and Jennifer Jolie, piled into the car, all buzzing with anticipation as they headed to a trendy new restaurant.

Once they arrived, the place looked promising—modern décor and vibrant artwork. But as they settled in and looked at the menu, disappointment hit Tatum. The food was a mix of odd flavors and tiny portions, making her stomach grumble.

"This looks like a joke," Tatum muttered, sharing an unimpressed glance with Jennifer.

"Tell me about it," Jennifer replied. "Who eats quinoa for dinner?"

When the food finally arrived, Tatum stared at the plate, realizing it looked more like art than a meal. She craved something more filling.

"I can't do this," Tatum said, pushing her plate away. "I'm starving."

Brooks laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "How about some Chinese food instead?"

"That sounds way better," Tatum replied, her face lighting up at the thought.

Gale agreed, and they quickly decided to ditch the restaurant. With laughter and relief, they hopped back into the car back to Gale and Tatum's penthouse. Once they arrived, they all settled in as they waited for the Chinese food to be delivered.

Tatum walked out of her room, hearing the conversations from the living room—her mom and Brooks talking about the graduation, Jennifer scrolling on her phone. Before she could join them, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," she said flatly, heading to the door.

When she opened it, there he was—the delivery guy who'd been dropping off their orders for months now. She'd seen him before, but today something was different. Tall, with dark wavy hair and a look that would've caught anyone's attention. Tatum's interest was piqued, though not for any deep reason. She didn't care about his personality or what made him tick. No, her interest was purely physical. He was attractive—really attractive.

"Hey," he said, his voice carrying a smooth Puerto Rican accent she hadn't bothered to notice before. "Got your order here."

"Thanks," she said, taking the bag without hesitation. Their fingers brushed, and this time she did notice—just for a second, because he was hot, not because it made her feel anything other than lust.

"You must order from here a lot," he said with a slight smile. "Feels like I'm always delivering to you."

She smirked a little, leaning against the doorframe. "Maybe I just like the convenience."

He chuckled, a deep sound that almost seemed charming. "Glad to hear it. I'd hate to disappoint."

"You haven't yet," she replied, her voice neutral but with an edge of playfulness she used when people tried to flirt.

For a moment, they stood there, neither really in a rush to break the interaction. He looked like he was waiting for something, but Tatum just stared back, her gaze lingering a bit longer than usual. She wasn't thinking about what he might be like; she was just appreciating what was right in front of her.

"You got a name?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.

"Tatum," she said simply, not giving away much.

He nodded, a slow grin forming. "Nice to meet you, Tatum. I'm Santiago."

"Nice to meet you," she responded, mimicking his tone.

There was a pause. He didn't move right away, like he was waiting for more from her, but she didn't give anything extra. She wasn't that interested.

"Well," he finally said, shifting slightly, "I should get going. Don't wanna keep you from your celebration."

Tatum shrugged. "Do what you have to."

Luis raised an eyebrow, giving her a grin before heading down the steps. "Maybe next time I'll stay a bit longer."

"Maybe," she said, her tone indifferent, though she watched him leave, her eyes following the way he moved. He had her attention now, but only because he was nice to look at.

Once he was out of sight, she shut the door and turned back to the living room, filing away his appearance in her mind—not his personality, not his charm. Just the image of him walking away.

Tatum headed to the kitchen and called out, "Food's here."

Everyone gathered around the table, the smell of takeout filling the air. Gale raised her glass. "To Tatum, we're proud of you, Ace."

Tatum gave a small nod, half-smiling. Jennifer joked, "Thanks for saving us from that terrible restaurant."

Laughter followed as they dug into their food, the celebration low-key but enough for the night.