Being in love with a straight boy is a straight-up nightmare. Especially if it's been like that for years. But it's even worse when he's your best friend's brother, who has a girlfriend that's there to remind you how straight he is. That's when it b...
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Two years after my own graduation, Jackson and Kenny were finally done with high school as well. And I was proud, but... I was also kind of worried. I could already see my brother drinking himself into a coma or something once he got into college. I wouldn't say I was the most responsible person of the Prill family, but Jackson was on a whole different level of stupidity. He was damn lucky to have a friend like Kenny to talk some sense into him. Then again, they wouldn't be attending the same college, so I could only hope he'd learn how to behave properly without us.
I watched both of them walking up to the stage to get their papers with a smile on my face and clapped along with everybody else. Mom even leaned in to hug me and said, "Oh, I'm so happy, Mason. I didn't think he'd be able to do it, but there he is!"
"Yeah, I'm surprised, too."
"Please take pictures for me," she said, pushing her camera into my hands with a sniffle. "I can't see anything."
I chuckled as she wiped at her tears, and took pictures of my brother, showing them to her when his turn was over. She gasped at the screen dramatically and gushed about how handsome he looked, to which I just rolled my eyes. I'm sure every proud mother said stuff like that about their son at special occasions—she told me the same thing when I graduated. But then Harriet pointed at the camera display and murmured, "Yeah, look, he looks really handsome with that wide smile."
"I thought you were my girlfriend," I joked.
"W-well, you know, I-I'm just saying! I mean... you are brothers after all, so—"
"I was just kidding," I chuckled, reaching for her hand to squeeze it assuringly, and she returned the camera to my mother, who started peering at all the other pictures she'd taken, zooming in and everything. Then she whispered to herself, as if he was another son of hers, "Kenny, too... Such a handsome, tall boy."
I rolled my eyes again.
I'm sure everyone looked handsome today if anyone asked her.
After the last name was called, we all hugged and took many, many more pictures, much to Kenny's chagrin, and I couldn't keep myself from laughing at his face. For someone who liked immortalizing everything with his own camera, he sure hated getting photographed himself.
I tapped his leg with my foot and said, "Come on, smile a little. It's your graduation."
He sighed and attempted to smile when his mother was taking pictures of him (with not much success), when his little sister suddenly ran up to squeeze her arms around his middle and squealed, "Good job, Kenny!"
"Thanks, Em," he laughed, finally, ruffling her hair.
There we go!
Jackson was busy giving his other friends high fives and fist bumps and other intricate handshakes that they'd come up with over the years—especially the one with Andre looked impossible to remember—so when the pictures were taken, I looked back up at Kenny and asked, "Do you still wanna apply for a dorm room?"
