Besides the fact that I was completely smothered with sunscreen and that my arms were burning from lugging a boxful of bouquets across campus, I was brimming with happiness—and sadness—as commencement started. After a few words from the university staff, Jordan walked onto the podium, the black graduation gown unflattering against his figure.

"We all have moments we wish we could erase from our memories, our pasts," Jordan began, an easy smile stretched across his features. "I, for one, want nothing more than to erase the fateful day during sophomore year when my parents came by to find my friends naked and passed out around my flat. It was not, unfortunately, the result of an all-night orgy, but I get why you'd think that."

The audience laughed a little, and I grinned as Jordan continued, mind floating back briefly to the text conversation Sunday night. Credit taken, Brooks.

"University is rife with such moments," Jordan continued, "and those moments, big or small, embarrassing or heart-wrenching or just plain boring, are what make university worthwhile. The moments where weight is sacked onto your shoulders after being assigned a new project or lifted off after getting back a test—those moments are what make university worthwhile."

Jordan's voice carried strong and clear over the audience, and I was awed by what a strong speaker he was, how confident and charismatic he seemed standing on the podium. That he could write this in less than two days was a feat in itself.

The audience grinned and laughed with him, smiling sadly as it dawned on them that this was it. Commencement. And then would come diplomas, tears, and goodbyes. But it wouldn't be the end—not for a long time.

When Jordan finished, the audience clapped dutifully to escort the valedictorian off the stage and the Chancellor on. Harold gave the typical message of pride in the leaving class, of sadness in absence but confidence of the future.

"Out with the old, in with the new!" the greying man had joked before sombering up, smiling kindly at the assembled graduates. "But really, we can only hope the new class will be as accomplished as you all."

Finally, when all the speeches and diplomas and hand-shaking were out of the way, the crowd dispersed to take pictures and coo over the newly-fledged adults. I wove through the crowd, box in arms, intent on finding familiar faces.

"Warren!" I called, spotting the brown-haired boy in the crowd. "Congratulations! I loved the speech! I'm going to miss you in at board meetings—you better still respond to if I text!"

"Of course, Stella!" Warren grinned, amused and sad all at once. "How could I ignore my favorite underclassman, however clueless she is at times?"

"Here are your roses—yellow for friendship and green for best wishes," I said handing him a bouquet. "I need a picture—can anyone—"

"Hand it here, dear," a kind-looking woman said, taking my phone with a gracious smile. "Whenever you're ready."

"Now I know where you get your smile from," I said, smiling for the camera lens. "Dimples and all."

"I'll miss you too," Warren laughed, following his mother back through the crowd. "You better text!"

"Stella Reyes?" a feminine voice asked, prompting me to turn.

"Gabby! Morgan! Maylie!" I exclaimed, happy and sad to see the fellow cheerleaders. "I'm going to miss you all so much!"

"We couldn't have asked for a better captain," Maylie grinned, waving a parent over. "Mom, can you snap some pics?"

"Send them to me!" I said, striking a pose with the girls. "Oh, here're some flowers—yellow for friendship—"

"Green for health?" Gabby guessed, half-jokingly. "Just teasing, Stella. For a prosperous future—thanks so much! I'll miss you, Miss Responsibility."

"We'll all miss you, Stella," Morgan corrected, wrapping us into a hug. "Keep up the quality—we'll be coming back to watch some games next year!"

"Conner is pretty hot," I winked at her, referencing Morgan's younger boyfriend.

"Oop, I think that's him there! Toodles!" Maylie said, pulling her friends through the crowd. Laughing, I picked up the still-heavy box and scanned the crowd. Spotting a mass by the podium, I walked over.

"—and bottle-feed a tiger cub," an auburn-haired girl was saying, eyes alight in the black gown. "The normal things you do when you visit Asia, you know?"

"Stella Reyes!" Weston called, spotting me. "Come join the fray—a fresh set of eyes always helps clear up the situation."

"Corianne St. Claire," the girl introduced, setting a hand in front of me in greeting. "Nice to finally meet the girl my two best friends are raving about."
"Stella Reyes," I replied, offering a smile as I shook her hand. "Afraid I can't say the same—your 'best friends' have neglected to tell me about the pretty girl in their midst."

"The pretty one here is you," Corianne said, flashing me a grateful smile, "but thanks."

"Well now that you're all introduced, I want to explain the problem," Weston said, grinning. I gave him a confused look. "It's alright, Stella. I just need you to understand the problem and give your input to resolve it."

"See now, we've been discussing where to start our trip. Jordan thinks Europe, and Corianne thinks Asia. I'm the poor soul caught between the two hungry dragons."

"Wait—Jordan's the one caught in-between, not you," Corianne corrected, frowning. "You're the one who's advocating for Europe."

And then I understood—Weston's anger, irritation, impatience—it all fell into place. I saw what Weston was trying to explain to me, what he desperately wanted me to understand. And it was unfair—so unfair—what he was asking me to do.

"I can't choose for the person caught in the middle," I protested. "I'm an outsider. Wouldn't it make more sense for the people going on the trip to discuss it amongst themselves?"

Actually I was hoping for some insight into the situation," Jordan admitted sheepishly, "and since you've been to both places, I thought you'd be a good person to ask."

"Personally, I'd say Asia first since it gets really hot and humid towards the end of summer," I sighed, focusing my gaze on Weston to make a point. "But that doesn't have to mean anything."

"Sounds good to me," Jordan smiled. "Asia first it is—the tiger cubs will be younger anyway, right?"

"Fine," Weston said, a smile pasted onto his face. "But I really hoped you'd be able to help me out, Stella."

"You say weird things sometimes, Wes," Corianne grinned, ruffling Weston's hair. The boy gave her an annoyed but friendly glare.

"Sorry I couldn't help your cause," I said, handing out the bouquets. "Hope you like them—green for a prosperous future, yellow for—"

"For friendship," Jordan smiled, sniffing the flowers. "They smell wonderful, thank you."

"You three better send me pictures of your trip!" I called, walking away with the now-lighter box.

"They'll be posted online, so keep your eyes peeled!" Corianne called to me as I left. "I want the world to remember the day Corianne bottle-feeds a tiger cub!"

---

"How do I look?" Whitney asked, giving us a small twirl. Her navy blue dress was skin-tight and scandalous. The group was silent for a moment, stunned.

"Oh my," Karen let out at last, eyes wide in shock and amusement. "Whitney, darling, is that really you?"

"In the flesh," Whitney joked, the uncertain smile on her face growing with confidence.

"So scandy!" Stacey crowed, laughing. "I love it!"

"We need to get you more dark-colored dresses," Quinn concluded, rising from the bean bag. "Let's go?"

"One moment," Stacey said, spotting herself in the mirror propped up by the closet. "Need to reapply lipstick... Done!"

"Stace, your makeup is always on point. Calm down," I chided, slipping on a pair of four-inch heels. My feet were going to wreak vengeance on me tomorrow, but tonight is the annual grad night party and I couldn't care less.

"I'd trade my make-up skills for your cheekbones any day, Stella," Stacey retorted, grinning. "But you'd probably want Quinn's fashion sense, in that case."
"Your eyeliner strokes are always perfect, Stacey," Quinn sighed, shaking her head as she buckled her seatbelt and started the engine of her dark grey Tesla. "I'm honestly so jealous"

"I'm on par with you, at most," Stacey laughed from the back seat. "Ugh, middle hump again... Only for you, Whitney baby. Oh, and you, Karen."

"I'll ignore that and thank you anyway," Karen grinned. Pray to god you'll never go under my brush and pencil."

"I do. Every day," Stacey retorted in jest.

"Tim's coming, right?" I asked before doubling back. "I mean I get that he's busy and all with the startup, but it's one of the biggest parties of the year, so..."

"Of course! You think he'd miss a chance to talk to all of the graduating tech nerds at school?" Quinn asked, grinning. "Justin's going to be graduating—you know, president of the robotics club?"

"Good to hear the recluse is still living healthy," Stacey said approvingly from the back seat. "I'd never let you date someone boring."

"I think Chad might be the most interesting person," Whitney noted. "Would Hunter be the least?"

"Depends on your definition of 'interesting,'" Karen explained with a wry smile. "If you're into cocky airheads, then yes."

"Hey now, I don't insult your love interests, do I?" Stacey asked good-naturedly. "Besides, I'm sure Hunter's tons of fun in bed. I mean c'mon, he has that lumbersecual thing going on—just without the beard."

"Thanks for that, Stacey," I called to the back as Quinn pilled up into the nightclub's parking lot. The graduating class had pooled money to rent the place for the night, as was tradition.

"Aw, not to your liking?" Stacey cackled. "It's alright—hot bods will be abundant tonight. Now open sesame! The door, Karen, the door!"

"Right. I was too surprised to hear my childhood getting ruined," Karen joked, shaking her head sadly. "The fairy tale catch-phrases that come out of your mouth never quite sound the same afterward."

"Oh shut up, Karen!" Stacey said, laughing and shoving Karen playfully Oh—look—graduating jock alert!"

---

"Whoo!" I cheered as the DJ switched the track to Bronte's new song, "Serendipity to You".

"You a hardcore Bronte fan?" the law school boy I was dancing with—Matt? Mack?--shouted at me over the music.

"Yep, and I'm not about to hide it!" I shouted back, grinning and throwing my hands up.

"I'm going to borrow her for a while," a voice interrupted, and I recognized Gabby's Australian accent. "And by 'borrow' I mean 'steal.' Thanks!"

"Gabby! What's up?" I asked as Gabby led me single-mindedly through the crowd.

"We're having the cheer get-together one," Gabby explained as the girls came into view. The team was scattered around the couch and the minibar in the back, waiting for the final arrivals,

"Stella Reyes, there you are!" Maylie grinned. "Alright, let's get this party started!"

"What party?" I asked, smiling in amusement. "Not one of those terrible goodbye gifts, is it? Didn't we already suffer enough at the final game?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Morgan asked, feigning shock. Looking around, she zeroed in on the younger members of the troupe sitting in trepidation. "It's alright, impressionable youth. Consider this an adorable little tradition passed down by your delightful upperclassmen."

"Oh. My. God," I said, eyes widening as a line of tuxedoed men flowed into the club and towards the cheer gathering. "You didn't!"

"We did!" Maylie crowed as the men simultaneously flung off their clothes. Male strippers. Chaos ensued as the graduating girls burst out laughing and the other members of the cheer team scrambled off the couch as to not be cornered by the onslaught of muscle.

"This looks fun," Stacey commented, walking over to watch the chicken squabble. "I'm going to guess this was your idea, Morgan."

"You'd be correct," Morgan grinned, phone in hand. "I take all the credit for this piece of genius. Smile for the camera, Rachel!"

"You're leaving them out!" I yelled to the hires, gesturing at the seniors who were too busy snapping photos to be bothered. "Give them the full service!"

"Her too!" Gabby shouted back. "Give our captain the 'special treatment'!"

"Make sure I don't drown," I joked at Stacey as three men in speedos advanced on me.

"Have fun!" Stacey winked at me, pulling her phone out. "'Cuz I will."

The studs cut me off from yelling at Stacey, lifting me onto their shoulders as the third spotted me from behind.

"Now this is what I call cheerleading practice!" I crowed at the team, laughing as the men paraded me around. "Damn, we really need male cheerleaders!"

After another few minutes of joyriding, I was set back onto my now-unsteady feet as the crowd joined in on the fun.

"Do you do guys?" a male voice joked from the crowd. There was a yell as the commentator was seated on top of a strippers shoulders. The boy recovered quickly, throwing both of his hands up. "I'm the king of the world!"

"Rakesh," Stacey laughed, shaking her head. "I'll miss the asshole's big mouth in journalism."
"He wrote really nice stories," I agreed, looking at the dark-skinned boy as he cheered to the crowd. "Alright, let's go back to the dance floor. Thanks for the eye candy, Gabs! Tell Morgan and Maylie thanks as well!"

"Will do!" Gabby yelled back, piggybacking on a stud who had on a pair of neon orange speedos.

"Journalism would never get away with doing something like this," Stacey said, frowning. "Buy maybe field hockey..."

"You could make a ice rink in the parking lot," I suggested with a grin, only half joking. "Treat us all to a little hockey in the winter."

"Stella! You can't steal my girlfriend for more than twenty minutes at a time!" Chad exclaimed, walking over and kissing Stacey deeply. I shied away from the sheer amount of tongue. "All right, rejuvenated. Where're the shots?"

"Can't even tell you to calm down," Tim grinned, drinks in hand. "Shots are by the bar—table and everything. Don't take too many!"

"When do I ever?" Chad yelled back, pulling an exasperated Stacey away.

"Where's Quinn?" I inquired, taking a cup and glancing around for said girl. "Shouldn't you be with her, Tim?"

"Turns out she gets along with the tech nerds better than me," Tim smiled in amusement. "I think the secret fashion police inside her found her 'natural habitat' with all those hoodies and sweats... She's probably helping them shop online as we speak."

"That's so Quinn," I laughed before spotting Karen as she weaved through the crowd, greeted by almost everyone who saw her. "Hello miss popularity—where have you been for the last... You know what, screw the hour."

"Got that right," Karen grinned, checking out Tim as she took the offered solo cup. "Whoa! Let me guess—Quinn?"

"She found my wardrobe," Tim sighed dramatically. "It was just a matter of time before my beloved hoodies and tech-pun shirts 'mysteriously disappeared.'"

"No pain no gain," I sang, smiling sympathetically. "But she's probably just hidden them somewhere—she secretly finds the shirts adorable, but I didn't tell you that."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tim grinned, waving his girlfriend over. "So how much of the tech geek vibe have you picked up?"

"I now know all about their current project," Quinn sighed, thanking Tim for the cup of iced beer. "Apparently Ramsey is death for tall guys 'cuz he's bias towards the shorter faction. Doesn't help that he's gay."

"He's not just playing hard-to-get with the taller students?" Karen joked, causing a bubble of laughter to surge out of the group. "Now hey, just 'cuz you're gay doesn't mean you can't play mind games."

"No, Ramsey goes for shorter guys," Tim grinned. "I found his page on social media. He's dating an Asian guy. Washboard abs must have made a difference there, though."

"Oop, cup empty," Karen said, finishing her drink. "Brb."
"I'm going to go check out the shot table," I said, hooking Karen's arm. "See how Chad's faring, maybe help out?"

"Don't take too many!" Quinn laughed, grabbing her boyfriend's arm. "We'll be on the dance floor if you need us!"

"Shots? I don't really like drunk Stella, to be frank," Karen teased, concerned.

"I'll be fine," I laughed easily, tipsy from the drinks I'd had. "Besides, I can handle my alcohol."

"Eleven!" Chad yelled, thumping the plastic cup onto the table and crumpling it. The crowd cheered and clapped, egging him on.

"Whoa, isn't that a little much?" I asked, tapping Stacey lightly on the shoulder to get her attention.

"He promised me he'd stop at thirteen," Stacey tittered nervously, a small frown on her face, "but I think he might have forgotten..."

"Twelve!" Chad shouted, slamming down another empty solo cup as the crowd chanted his name.

"The crowd does get into your head after a while," Karen commented, frowning. "Maybe someone should intervene."

"I'll step in for him," I decided. Stacey gave me a worried but grateful smile, while Karen deepened her frown.

"Not too many," Karen cautioned as the crowd pounded the tables for the last shot. Chad was gulping down his thirteenth cup, his adam's apple bobbing as alcohol streamed into his system.

"Sixteen!" he roared, pumping his fists up at the crowd. I stepped up the the table.

"I'll—"

"I'll sub him out," Calum interrupted, stepping up beside me and giving me a confident grin. "Let's get it up to fourteen, shall we?"

"Calum," KImberly said, looking at her boyfriend in concern. "Don't push yourself."

"Don't need to," Calum grinned easily, giving Kimberly a chaste kiss on the forehead before taking Chad's place at the head of the table. "One!"

"Kimberly," I greeted, giving the brunette a careful smile. "You idea to let your boyfriend down two six-packs?"

"No," Kimberly said, giving me an unamused frown. "It's because he saw you at the table, actually."

"Really?" I said, eyes widening slightly as I brought the solo cup of likely-spiked beer to my lips. "I'm flattered."

"Stella," Kimberly started, giving me a deadpan look. "Do you like Calum?"

My breath caught in my throat, causing me to choke on the cold liquid. The malted drink burned like a stoked flame in my throat as my eyes teared up.

"Are you alright?" Kimberly asked, concerned.

"Yeah," I choked out, coughing. "Fine, sorry."

"It's fine," Kimberly smiled, looking detachedly at her boyfriend at the table. "I mean I didn't expect you to say anything, but I had to ask, you know?"

"What?" I coughed, eyes watery. Kimberly continued, not hearing me.

"Like I totally get why someone would like Calum," she explained, eyes focused on the blonde as he gulped down his fourth cup. "He's sweet, charming, funny, kind, and so much more... but that's what everyone wants me to think, isn't it? Because I'm just another notch on the bedpost, another name to throw around. I'm just another 'new girl' for you to bully."

"What," I coughed again, throat still burning. Kimberly turned around to face me.

"I thought it was real at first—I really did," she laughed sadly, looking at her drink now. "But I was wrong, wasn't I? Everything—it was all a ruse to get my V-card, wasn't it? But I'm not going to fall for it. It's not happening."

"Kimberly," I choked out, the firestorm in my throat dying down to a dull pile of embers. Kimberly flashed me a brilliant smile.

"I suppose this is how it usually goes, isn't it?" Kimberly asked. "The popular kids get together and choose a naive-looking girl and send Prince Charming after her, knowing she'll fall for it. But that's not happening. You can call Calum off—I'm not going to give in."

"I," I started, thoughts whirling. She thought Calum's love was a ploy to get her virginity? Since when did it start seeming like that? How could she possibly think that when someone as sweet as Calum was baring his heart for her? I mean sure there were unfortunate circumstances during the beginning part of this year, but that was a mistake. How could she—

"She's not worth it," I murmured, eyes sliding to the blonde figure currently in the spotlight, the crowd cheering and pounding as he drank another shot.

"Sorry?" Kimberly asked, leaning closer.

"Nothing," I told her, pasting on an easy grin. "I just realized I need some shots. Excuse me! I'll do fifteen!"

"Think you can beat me?" Calum grinned, breath smelling of booze, but I could hear the faint concern beneath it.

"I know I can beat you, Remington," I grinned back. "Need I remind you of our current score?"

"Two-one—but we just started," Calum shot back. "And it's about to change."

"Bring it," I said, gulping down the first cup of burning venom. Fifteen cups—enough to get blackout drunk, not that it mattered at this point. I needed the thoughtlessness.

---

My lovelies! How is the summer heat (or lack thereof, lucky you) treating you all?

Chapter twenty-two up as for now (and will definitely see some major changes, mind you, so keep your eyes peeled). Hope you like the new developments!

Please vote/comment to let me know you exist! I promise to reply to all comments at this point lol, and please catch my errors (although I can't see the line on the computer :/ )

 Cherrio!

 —Littlewhims