As the principal droned on, I recited my speech in my head. I’d been practicing it for the last two weeks in front of a mirror, to Maiken, to Celia, and to Momma. When I’d first started writing my speech, I had one message in mind: work hard and prosper. But I had changed my tune after the prom. Now I had a different theme in mind.
Speaking of the prom, the backlash hadn’t been as severe as I’d thought it would be. Claire had been nonexistent. Celia had learned that Claire had gotten a one-day suspension. Francine, the head of the prom committee, had made sure Claire paid. I couldn’t exactly encourage Principal Sanders to punish Claire given my actions in the video.
I felt that I was as much at fault as Claire had been. If I hadn’t gotten drunk, then the video would’ve never happened. Luckily for me, the principal hadn’t mentioned a word about the prom incident to me. I’d been quite nervous she would, but my actions hadn’t hurt anyone or broken any rules on school property. The only thing that had been broken was my pride. In addition, Maiken and I had made darn sure Trevor erased all digital copies of the video from his computer, and he’d been very accommodating and apologetic.
“Now I would like to give the podium over to our valedictorian, Quinn Thompson.” Principal Sanders turned and nodded to me as she clapped along with the entire audience.
I took in a quick breath, hoping to calm my nerves, and rose, smiling at her as I walked up to the podium. My pulse beat a staccato rhythm as I placed my note cards on the podium and looked out at the students.
“Focus on one person,” Mrs. Flowers had said. “Give your speech like you’re having a casual conversation with that person.”
I swallowed, lifted my chin, and cleared my throat as I adjusted the mike. My hands were trembling as I searched for someone to latch onto. I wanted Maiken to be sitting in the front row, but he was somewhere in the back. But when I swept my gaze to my right, Maiken was standing in the aisle along the wall, smiling warmly and proudly.
I briefly closed my eyes, feeling a sense of relief that I had him to support me.
“Fellow graduates, it’s been four years of firsts and lasts.” Definitely firsts with Maiken, but never lasts. “Four years of learning and growing. And as our high school days come to an end, we should be proud of what we’ve accomplished.” I scanned my peers before continuing. “We owe a debt of gratitude to those who have helped us get here today. The teachers who have worked tirelessly, giving their free time to support extracurricular activities, clubs, sports, and the list goes on. Our illustrious guidance counselor, Mrs. Flowers, who has gone out of her way to help us as we prepare for college. To Principal Sanders, who has always made sure we have the best state-of-the-art tools to help us learn and to keep us on the straight and narrow.” I took a breath and swallowed. “Let’s give them a round of applause.”
Once the audience was done clapping, I soldiered on. “I stand before you today not only as your valedictorian but also as your peer and friend.” I held my head high. “What I tell you now isn’t from these note cards.” I tapped my heart. “My message to you comes right from here. Don’t be afraid to take a chance. Don’t be afraid to do something you think you can’t do. We are strong. We are powerful. We are ready to take on new challenges.”
Most of the heads in the audience nodded and bobbed.
“Since I was a little girl, my dad”—I glanced to my left and homed in on my dad, who was sitting two rows up next to my mom—“my dad always told me, ‘You will do great things one day, Quinn.’” Tears threatened as my dad beamed at me. “I believe each and every one of you will do great things. We are now armed with the tools we need to grab our dreams by the horns. We are ready to adapt, grow even more, learn, love, and build a world where one day our kids will be as proud as my parents are of me right this minute.” Tears flowed down my cheeks. “So with that, I would like to leave you with one last thing.” I puffed out my chest and opened my arms. “The future is your playground. Use it to have the best darn time of your life.”
The senior class of Kensington High, along with parents and loved ones, gave me a standing ovation.
I smiled through a cloud of tears, and for the first time in all my years, I wasn’t afraid of life after high school. I was ready to take on whatever was thrown my way, and I knew without a doubt that I would do great things.
In one week, Quinn and I were off to Boston College. In one week, we would begin our new life as college students. If anyone asked me a year ago where I thought I would be, my answer would’ve been, “I’m not sure.”
My senior year of high school wasn’t what I’d imagined. I’d never expected to be at a new school, away from Mom, away from Quinn. But I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I believed that year had given me a chance to grow up, to see the world in a different light, to focus on my dreams, and above all else, to deepen my love for Quinn. Not seeing her every day hadn’t been easy. But I believed we were stronger because of the separation. I believed that she and I could do anything now. Our relationship was impenetrable. We had each other through thick and thin.
“Maiken!” Quinn shouted. “Pay attention.”
I chuckled as I focused on my beautiful goddess. She was trying to get me on a horse, and after almost three years of telling her no, I’d decided to slay one of my demons. I’d been around horses since I met Quinn, and they weren’t as scary anymore.
She held out the reins. “It’s simple. Apple is kind and gentle. Don’t be afraid.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said as Apple wagged her tail.
I slipped my foot into a stirrup as I took hold of the reins and lifted myself up onto the saddle.
Quinn clapped, and she lit up like a Christmas tree. “See, you’re a natural.”
If I got to see her smiling and happy, I would climb up and onto a hundred horses for her.
I inhaled the afternoon summer air. A light breeze ruffled my hair. It was the perfect day for a trot through the woods. Our plan was to explore, but I had other things in mind once Quinn and I were deep in the woods.
Like the horse expert she was, she mounted Lightning effortlessly. The black horse inched forward as though he weren’t used to someone riding him.
Quinn petted his neck. “It’s okay, boy. We’ll run soon.”
I wasn’t about to full-out gallop. But it would be fun to see Quinn fly with her horse.
“Okay,” Quinn said. “You ready. You remember what I taught you?”
“Hold on to the reins for dear life,” I teased.
She rolled her amber eyes. “Silly. Apple will follow me. But if you want her to move faster, just dig your heels into her.”
I gave her the thumbs-up. “Lead the way, Goddess.”
She giggled as she took off on a trail along the perimeter of the farm.
Before long, we were in the thick of the woods, and I was surprisingly fine with how Apple trotted as though she were smelling every branch and leaf along the way.
That sense of fear I’d had for horses diminished greatly. I was actually digging how freeing riding a horse was making me feel.
Quinn led the way for about twenty minutes until we came out of the dense thicket. The Maxwell Lake lay before us.