Be My Girlfriend

72

Jo's P.O.V.

My palms were damp, my stomach in knots. I sat at the very front, clutching my notes—the speech I'd spent weeks writing, rewriting, practicing in front of Reese. I should've felt proud, excited even. I was valedictorian. This was supposed to be my moment.

But all I could feel was the heaviness in my chest, the sharp echo of Brittany's face, her tears, her confusion, the words I had thrown at her like knives. My heart was shattered, and no amount of make-up or steady breathing could cover that.

When the principal called my name, "Valedictorian, Josephine Thompson," the applause washed over me like a wave I couldn't quite stand under. My legs carried me forward, but they felt stiff, heavy, almost unwilling.

I climbed the stage and stood behind the podium. The lights were bright, blinding. Rows of faces stretched before me—smiling, proud, expectant. Parents with cameras. Teachers leaning forward. My classmates clapping politely.

I gripped the podium tighter, my notes shaking in my hand.

This was it.

I glanced down at the paper I had written. Lines about growth, success, ambition. Perfect, polished words meant to inspire. Words that, right now, felt empty.

I lifted my eyes and, without meaning to, they found her. Brittany. Sitting there among her friends, her diploma resting on her lap. Her face pale, her eyes swollen like she'd been crying too. And God help me, even through the pain, even through everything, I still loved her.

But love was what had broken me.

My throat tightened. I froze, the words on the paper blurring in front of me. The silence stretched, a few nervous coughs echoing in the gym.

I let out a shaky breath and, slowly, I let the notes fall from my hands. They fluttered to the floor like useless scraps of paper. A few gasps rose from the crowd.

I straightened, both hands on the podium, my heart racing as I spoke—not from the script, but from the only place I could now. My chest.

"Life... is hard." My voice cracked at first, but I forced myself to continue. "It's full of challenges, of moments that test us, moments that break us. And sometimes, those challenges don't come from the world... but from the people we thought would never hurt us, or maybe even from ourselves."

The room was silent now, every face turned toward me.

"There are days we stumble, days we fall so hard it feels impossible to get back up. Days when dreams we've worked for are ripped away, or when trust we've given is shattered. And it hurts. God, it hurts. But... here's the thing." I paused, swallowing back the tightness in my throat.

"We're still here." My voice steadied. "We're standing, graduating, moving forward. And that's what matters. Not the fall, not the pain, but the fact that we rise again. That we keep going."

I glanced at Reese, who was crying softly, then back at my classmates.

"We don't get to choose every battle life throws at us. We don't get to stop people from letting us down. But we do get to choose how we move forward. And we owe it to ourselves—to keep moving. To keep fighting. To keep living."

I let my eyes fall once more on Brittany, just for a second, before looking away.

"So today... as we leave these halls behind, I don't just want us to think about the dreams we have, or the goals we chase. I want us to remember that even when life hurts—when it's unfair, when it feels unbearable—we can still rise. We can still move forward. And that is where our true strength lies."

A long pause. Then I drew in a breath.

"Congratulations, Class of 2018. We made it."

The gym erupted into applause, loud and thunderous, but all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat. I stepped back from the podium, my hands trembling, my body feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time.

I had said what I needed to say. From my heart. And though it cost me everything, I knew it was the truth. My truth.

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