Death Weeps (Death #5)

Death Weeps (Death #5) Page 37

Tiff gave my arm a small squeeze. She was telling me that it sucked ass that Hamilton was by Jade but I consoled myself with the basic fact that it was graduation. He wouldn't try anything stupid.

Right?

They announced my last name and I filed into the auditorium.

I got to be right next to Hamilton who was wearing a smug expression. He'd love to make trouble. He couldn't though; his daddy was sitting and watching.

So were the cops, the sick fucks.

I leaned forward and caught Jade's eye and she winked, the emerald of her eye blinking out of existence for a second and then reappearing like found treasure. She was so brave, sitting not far from Hamilton. Where were all the letters in between? Damn, it figured we were missing a bunch.

John walked on stage and I watched him, my scrutiny probably not unlike his parents'. Out of all of us, he'd fashioned his future. I was proud of him. So was Jonesy, who turned around, no embarrassment over eyes that were shiny with our friend's accomplishments.

Terran opened his mouth to speak, his three by five index cards gripped in long tapered fingers that matched his tall body perfectly. I couldn't help but think of the Guys with Gills as the memory of their physique slid through my mind as an unforgettable memory.

John had that look. He was unfinished, not yet nineteen and too lean by far, but he had that look. Minus the gills.

"I was going to give the perfect speech," John said gazing out at the audience. The sound of crickets was clear in the well of silence that struck the outdoor auditorium. "However, as I look at your faces, I'm going to speak about what really matters instead of what is expected." His pleasant face, framed by hair that had gone to a deep red as he'd gotten older, looked at the sea of faces, his light blue eyes scanning the crowd for a readiness that might or might not be there.

Every eye was trained on him and when he had their full attention he said, "I want to talk about Brett Mason."

Even I sucked in a lungful, and I'm not easily shocked. I would've never thought John would abandon the Perfect Lecture for emotion. But he had. His parents were somewhere using airsick bags as we watched. I just knew it.

I got a sudden image of Joan upchucking in a bag and smiled until my face hurt.

Jonesy turned around and grinned. "This oughta be good," he said with barely contained glee.

Yeah.

"My biggest lesson was not learned through my textbooks. And I am very aware that this should be the time to talk about how fine an education I've received." His icy eyes held the crowd's without rancor but with a purpose.

Maybe Griswold wasn't the only hard charger in the auditorium today.

"I'll leave that for others. My finest lessons came from my friends," he paused, his eyes briefly resting on Jones and me, then restlessly moving on. "They taught me the value of individuality," and his speech halted, a small grin overtaking his face and I knew, just knew, he was thinking of Jonesy. "However, Brett Mason taught me the finest lesson of my life."

The audience held their collective breath.

"Bravery," John said and they stood.

Every cap and gown, every parent, everyone who had legs stood. Even that bastard Hamilton.

Because one of our own had died saving a girl that I loved.

Who, I was certain, would one day be my wife.

Sometimes milestones are not measured by the accomplishments of society, but by those of integrity.

Brett had taught John that.

Hell, he'd taught us all.

I turned to look at Jade as the clapping died down and saw the tears on her face, seeing through the sadness to the joy that lay underneath.

Brett was gone but he was still a part of us.

There would have been no "us" if it had not been for him.

We all understood it.

That's why John had committed himself to a speech about a mundane from a broken family that had been misunderstood.

Though not forgotten.

Never that.

I don't know what possessed John's parents to host a humongous reception for the graduates at their house. Obviously, serving a red fruit punch over obscenely white carpeting was nothing short of idiotic. Even if it did have plastic runners bisecting the center.

Especially watching Jonesy doing the hip-swiveling dance with his punch. A la beer pong cup.

He was having fun with that part. He'd flung his arm around Sophie who was making every effort to act like she was indifferent to the attention.

"And here's the thing, Soph... John's mom's doin' quarters baby," his voice dropped to be hidden by the low drone of the mixed voices in the Terran household, filled to bursting with red punch.

Hell, even I was nervous. I watched Terran's eyes dart around like a ping pong ball without a paddle. There were simply too many cups to watch. He gave up, slogging over to my side.

"What's Jonesy talking about?" he asked, his hands on slack encased hips. His parents had made him wear the Man Outfit. John jerked the tie down a little so it was less like a noose.

"I'm pitting out in this bullshit," John muttered.

"Dirty mouth, Terran," Tiff said in a sultry purr from behind us and the poor bastard went from ivory snow to red as a tomato as fast as you could say....

Girl.

Tiff was one of those rare individuals whose very existence gave me a perpetual case of the crooked mouth. Like now.

"Tiff..." John began as she moved around to the front of our position and both our jaws dropped.

Tiff looked like a girl.

It was literally the first time we had ever seen her in a dress and she immediately tensed, feeling self-conscious.

John cleared his throat, the blush flaring ruthlessly back to life. He opened his mouth and then shut it.

"What?" she asked in a defensive bark.

John looked at her, taking in the soft, honey colored hair that had missed mousy brown by a millimeter. Her hazel eyes were rimmed with a swipe or two of light mascara but her face was so small that those luminous eyes with flecks of green took up half of that precious real estate.

And she had a body.

Who could have known? Hoodie as Uniform had obscured all.

She had been a skinny girl who had grown into a curvy woman. Not as curvy as Jade but in the same league.

Tiff huffed, pegging a small hand on her hip. Hands I'd seen jab throats. I was mesmerized, it was hard to imagine her doing the things she'd done when she was wearing skyscraper heels and a deep green blouse that hugged her torso tightly, a lacy black cami peeking out from actual, bona fide cleavage.

I swear I heard Terran swallow. Must've hurt. Poor dude.

"You look nice, Tiff," John said. Color rose to her cheekbones and she was silent, fiddling with the hem of her short black skirt.

The awkwardness was suffocating us and dragging Tiff along for the ride when Sophie walked up.

Thank everything that was holy.

"Hi guys," she said, her eyes shifting from my face to Terran's then to Tiff's.

"What'd I miss? You guys look totally stiff." Then she lowered her voice, "Jonesy added some cool stuff to the punch so go have some of that and start looking like the stick is out of your asses." Then she straightened, looking at Tiff who glared back at her.

"How do you boys like Tiff's transformation-to-girl, huh?" she asked smugly.

Holy crap, Tiff must've been desperate to let the animal print queen get a hold of her.

Sophie looked at my face. "Come on, Caleb. A little credit! I mean, we're warming her up nice and slow before zoo time."

Tiff had a physical reaction, blanching at the mere thought of wearing anything with a print, I could tell.

Terran smoothly said, his eyes steady on hers, "I think this might be more Tiff's style."

Tiff looked up at Terran and smiled at him with a shy regard that was a first.

Well, it was the first time Terran noticed. The gang had been noticing for months.

It was one of those moments when you know something with such assurance that it sings a tune in your bones.

Sophie gave me a sly smile and I gave an almost imperceptible nod in return.

John and Tiff didn't pay attention because they were too busy looking at each other.

Perfect.