Run Between

Graduation

         It’s not a big day for us ninth graders, of course.  Just moving up a step, and a small one at that.  But it is for my brother Ben, and his class, who are graduating from high school. It’s also the reason that I’m sitting uncomfortably in a tiny seat in our school gym, wearing a gray strapless dress adorned with tiny sequins at the top, which Mom convinced me to buy for this specific occasion.  I pull it down, willing the tiny skirt to be longer, but remind myself that I just have to sit through a few more minutes until the party starts, at which I’ll congratulate Ben, then change into jeans and wait for Nick to pick me up and take me to our first day of shooting.  Finally, I hear the principal shout for the celebrations to commence.  I immediately get up from my seat, wobbling a little on the four-inch heels Mom has somehow coaxed me into, and run up to Ben, who’s talking with some of his other popular friends.

         “Hey,” I say breathlessly. Before he can tell me to go away for embarrassing him, I pull him into a hug, which he surprisingly returns. I guess now that he’s college age and all, he doesn’t really care what people think. “You must feel great.”

         “Yeah,” he says, making a two seconds sign at his friends. “Excited for the party, Luce?”

         I bite my lip. Mom and Dad obviously forgot to tell him that I have to leave early for Summertime.  “Um, Ben—I, um, have to leave. In, um, a few minutes, actually.” I chew on my lip again, hoping he won’t explode.

         “And what for, exactly?” he says in a deathly calm voice, “What’s more important than family?”

         I gulp, because I know that what I’m leaving for isn’t. “Summertime.” I say softly, little more that a breath, but Ben hears it.

         “Of course! Now that your some famous actress, you think you’re better than all of us!”

         “No, I don’t!” I shout back, and I feel a tear rise to my eyes. But I’m not going to let it fall. “I still love you, it’s not my fault—“

         “Oh, yes it is!” At this point, all of Ben’s friends have stopped to stare at us, and some of the parents are quieting too. “You couldn’t just wait to be an actress, you had to go and audition now! Now! Childhood is supposed to be carefree: your not supposed to get stressed over homework, your not supposed to be famous, your not supposed to be leaving your family for a stupid rehearsal with your boyfriends!”

         “It’s not stupid! And Steve and Aidan aren’t my boyfriends!” The whole room has gone silent by now. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. “And who would you rather me be? This is who I am!”

         Ben comes up to me, and shouts in my face, “I would rather you be someone who won’t grow up to be a drug addict like Lindsay Lohan!” My eyes burn, and I feel hot tears wash away the makeup Mom so carefully applied. In the background, I whispers of my name wave through the crowd, followed by their opinions on what Ben has just said. My face burning red, I manage to say, “I hate you!” to Ben, and run from the room as fast as I can in high heels. Slamming the door behind me, I collapse onto the steps and hide my face in my now-ruined dress. 

I’m so distracted, so hurt by Ben’s words that I refuse to follow Mom and Dad back into the gym; that I laugh weakly then close my eyes when Evan and Danny make funny faces at me and promise me candy in a last ditch attempt to cheer me up; that I turn away when Ben sits next to me and tries to apologize. I don’t know why they want me back inside until I look up and am blinded by the flash of a camera and am deafened by the ongoing scratch of a pencil on paper.