Bonus Scene

Kannon

Graduation Day, 2014

The late afternoon sun glinted off the rows of folding chairs, highlighting the ridiculous sea of shiny black caps and gowns. I stood at the edge of the crowd, scanning for her. The smile on my face was probably dumb as hell, but I didn’t care. Not today. Not when I was about to do the thing I’d been too much of a coward to do all through high school.

“Where the hell are you?” I muttered to myself.

Then I saw her.

Merritt.

She was with her friends, laughing as they tried to help her put her cap back onto her head. Her dad was circling with his camera, snapping picture after picture like he was afraid he might miss a single second of her big day. She grinned, rosy-cheeked and flushed from the heat, her dark hair falling loose in messy waves despite the cap. She was a whirlwind of movement and sunshine, her legs looking incredible in those strappy white heels that made her just a little taller than usual.

This was it.

This was the day I was going to say it.

I swallowed hard, the nerves already twisting in my gut. I’d rehearsed it a hundred times in the mirror, trying to get the words right. It wasn’t complicated. Just three little words.

I love you.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

“Warner!”

I turned to see a couple of my friends coming my way. “Hey, what’s up?” I asked, trying to sound cool. I didn’t want them to see I was sweating bullets at the thought of talking to a girl. Although she wasn’t just any girl.

She was the girl.

“There’s gonna be a kegger tonight,” Justin said. “You gonna go?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Dude, come on. This is our last time to party together. I leave for basic training next week.”

“I have to go to Merritt’s house,” I said. “Her dad invited me.”

Brock rolled his eyes. “You’re so into her. When are you going to ask her out?”

“She’s my friend,” I said, hoping I sounded convincing.

“You’re hot for her.” Justin laughed. “You have been forever.”

“I bet they’re married by the end of summer,” Brock joked.

“She’s going to college in a couple of months,” I said.

“Ah, poor little Kannon is sad,” Justin teased.

“Which is why we need to go out tonight and get wasted,” Brock said. “Fuck high school!”

“You guys go ahead,” I said. “I have to go.”

Justin clapped me on the shoulder. “Man don’t be a dumbass. She’s leaving, and this—tonight—it’s our last hurrah.”

“I’ll be there later,” I said. “Chill out.”

Justin shrugged. “Fine. We’re going to spread the word. Good luck, lover boy.”

As they sauntered off toward a group gathered under a tree, I stood there wrestling with my emotions. They were right in some ways. This was an end of an era for us all. But for me, it was also a crucial turning point—a moment to finally put my heart on the line.

Taking a deep breath, I watched Merritt as she continued to talk and laugh with her friends. She had no idea what kind of turmoil I was dealing with. It was my own fault. I’d had years to tell her how I felt and I never did. For some reason, this felt like it had to be said now. Not tonight or tomorrow—now.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and started toward her. The girls surrounding her spotted me first, and I swore they giggled like they knew something I didn’t. One of them nudged Merritt. She turned to see me, her face lighting up in a way that made my pulse race.

“Kannon!” she called, her voice carrying over the noise of the crowd. “We did it! Congratulations!”

“You too, Buttercup,” I said, grinning back. She was so beautiful it hurt.

Her friends melted away, leaving us alone in the swirl of chaos. “Can you believe it?” she said, her voice breathless. “We graduated! We’re officially done with high school!”

“Barely,” I joked. “I think Mr. Fletcher only passed me because he didn’t want to see me in his class for another year.”

She laughed, the sound light and infectious. I wanted to bottle it up and keep it with me forever. “Stop it,” she said, swatting at me. “You worked hard this year. I never had any doubt you were going to make it to this day. I would have taken all your tests for you if I had to. No way was I not going to do this without you.”

“I didn’t work as hard as you,” I said, meaning it. Merritt could do anything she set her mind to. She always had.

She reached up, her fingers deftly fixing the tie I’d done a terrible job with that morning. I tried to ask my mom for help, but she was worse at it than I was. My dad? Yeah, no chance. He was already at the bar by the time I was out of bed.

“You look handsome,” she said, smoothing the front of my shirt.

“And you look beautiful,” I said before I could stop myself.

Her cheeks turned pink. She giggled, glancing down like she was embarrassed. “Oh gosh, Kannon. Stop. You’re making me blush.”

Good. I liked that I could make her blush.

“Your dad looks like his face is going to split in half,” I said. “He must have taken a million pictures of you.”

She laughed. “I know. It’s a little embarrassing. Did you hear him shouting when they said my name?”

“Everyone heard him. Hell, I think people in Canada heard him.”

Her cheeks burned bright once again. “That’s what people are going to remember.”

“It’s not the worst thing in the world to have a dad that’s proud of you.”

She grimaced. “I’m sorry. Of course I’m happy to have him.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “My mom is around here somewhere.”

“Did your dad make it?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it. I hope not. He would just embarrass me.”

Merritt’s expression softened, the playfulness giving way to concern. “You know whether he’s here or not doesn’t change how amazing today is for you. You did this. You made it through, and you did it on your own terms.”

I forced a smile, appreciating her attempt to cheer me up. “I know. Thanks, Merritt.”

She nodded and reached down to take my hand. It was something she did often. It was natural for her to want that physical connection. It was just part of what made her such an amazing person. The connection felt like an anchor, something solid in the whirl of emotions that the day brought.

This was my chance. The words were right there, sitting in my throat. Just say it. Tell her you love her. But my mouth wouldn’t cooperate.

“Merritt! Come on! We’re going to take some pictures!” Her friends were calling her back, their voices cutting through the moment.

“I should go,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

No. Not yet. Not before I say what I need to say.

“Hey, Buttercup?” I said, reaching for her hand.

She turned back to me, her eyes searching mine. “What’s up?”

I swallowed hard, cursing myself for being such a coward. “Promise me you won’t go falling in love when you start college this fall and forget all about me, okay?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a softness in her smile. “I could never forget about you, Kannon,” she said, smacking the cap off my head and ruffling my hair.

“Promise,” I said, my voice quieter this time.

Her expression turned serious, and she stepped closer, leaning in until her lips brushed my cheek. The touch was so quick and so soft it almost didn’t feel real.

“I promise,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Are you still coming by the house for the barbecue?”

I nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll stop by.”

“Oh, hey, I heard there is some big party. Are you going?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug.

“We’re going to the sober party,” she said. “You should come with us. You’ll have fun. I know it’s not your scene, but I’ll be there.”

It wasn’t my scene. People would wonder if I was lost if I showed up there. “Maybe,” I said.

She smiled again. “I’ll see you later. Dad made a brisket. Your mom is invited, too.”

“I’ll let her know,” I said.

And then she was gone, rushing off to her friends, her laugh trailing behind her like sunlight.

I stayed where I was, watching her until she disappeared into the crowd. “And I promise I’ll wait as long as I have to,” I whispered.

It wasn’t the moment I’d imagined, but it was enough. For now. I was hoping we could spend the next couple of months together before she went off to college. I would tell her how I felt then. I’d let her get used to being around me. We would spend time together and be virtually inseparable.

Maybe she would decide she didn’t want to go to college after all. She’d stay here and we could be together.

I scolded myself for even thinking that. She wanted to go. I wasn’t going to deprive her of that happiness. I would just have to wait and hope. While she was off getting educated, I was going to be here doing what I could to save money. I had big dreams of her coming home and us moving into a big house and being married. I was going to make sure I was good enough for a girl like her.

Some day.