Steady

Prologue

Prologue

A sea of faces stared back at me from the bleachers as I wiped my sweaty palms down the length of my gown. Teachers, friends, family, and at least a hundred plain-faced strangers waited patiently as I swallowed the ball of nerves gathering at the base of my neck. My anxiety threatened to ruin what I'd built up to be the pinnacle of my high school career.

All I had to do was focus on the index cards sitting in front of me, hone in on the words, and speak. But that was easier said than done, especially since I was alone at the podium with a microphone leveled at my face, ready to project my gravely voice across the crowded gymnasium.

Taking a deep, uneven breath, I shut my eyes for a beat before clearing my throat and pulling my shoulders back in what I hoped the audience perceived as confidence.

I'd spent the better part of three months writing my valedictorian speech and had convinced myself it couldn't be less than perfect- not the content nor the delivery. I wouldn't allow it. After all, my overwhelming need for perfection was what had landed me on that stage in the first place. Looking down at my community, my neighbors, and everyone that had a hand in my life as well as my education, I refused to let them down. And as for my fellow graduates? I refused to be a laughing stock. I refused to fumble, to trip, to do anything that would give them a reason to chide me at the after party or any class reunions to come.

You can do this... Just breathe.

"Good evening." My voice sounded meek even to my own ears. "I know you're expecting me to stand up here and thank each and every person who has ever touched my life or helped mold me into the person I am today, but I don't have the words, nor the time, to express my gratitude. So, to everyone who's helped me or any of my classmates throughout this journey, I say thank you." I paused to watch the tassels on almost every cap shimmy as my fellow graduates turned their heads to glance at parents or teachers. "Throughout the last year, I've learned just how precious time can be, so I won't bore you with quotes from famous people or personal anecdotes that you don't understand. I would just like to take this time to address my classmates one last time."

I turned my head to see that my two best friends, Nora and Carter, were both hanging onto my every word, tears shimmering in their eyes. They weren't criers. None of us were. But you only graduate once, and the pressure that accompanies the ceremony can pull emotion from even the most calloused of people. Even Nora, whose dark stare could silence men with a single glance. And even Carter, who aside from being the strongest man I knew, also had the biggest heart.

"Guys, we've had one hell of a run." I ignored the way my mother shook her head at my use of such a distasteful word, but soft laughter murmured through the crowd. "But now it's time to put on our grown up panties and face the real world. The lives we shaped here, together, are over. Forget everything you thought you knew to be fact and accept that when we go our separate ways, life will do whatever it takes to knock us down—to tip the world on its axis until we're not sure which way is up... but that's when greatness happens. Here, within these walls," I gestured around the gymnasium, "we made a lot of mistakes. But those mistakes were nothing. If we fell, we had people there to lift us up, dust us off, and send us back on our way. That's not the case anymore. We no longer have that ever-present safety net. When we fall, we'll have to claw our way back up. I know that sounds terrifying, dismal, and maybe even a little depressing, but it's not. Because when we stand back up, when we refuse to let failure drag us away from everything we're fighting so hard to attain—we are showing the world what we're made of. And looking down at all the faces of the people who have surrounded me for the past fourteen years, I see a lot of grit. I see nerve. I see greatness. I see determination." My voice grew and grew until the speakers were booming and my classmates were whooping and hollering—encouraged by my words.