Don’t Be in Love

46

Don’t Forget to Enjoy Life — Adelaide

Holy shit. Holy shit I got the job. I got the job on the day I was graduating—or, to be precise, five minutes before I was graduating. (The owner of Grace & Gears in Edinburgh said it would’ve been sooner if the email of my marketing plan from semester one hadn’t ended up in her junk folder.)

But after two interviews in the past two weeks, I got it.

“Why are you shaking like a soda bottle?” Mia asked behind me.

“I got the job!” I attempted to whisper as the line in front of us moved forward. Students stepped on stage to get their diplomas.

“You did? That’s incredible!” She jumped (while attempting to whisper).

“What is it? Why are you guys jumping?” Sabrina asked from behind Mia, popping her head out.

“She got the job!” Mia shrieked. Fortunately, the applause drowned out her volume.

“You got the job?” Sabrina joined our jumping circle. “We’re going to Scotland together!”

“Just for the summer!” I clarified. “The position ends in September, but they said if everything goes well, I can move to their London office once it’s up and running!”

“Did you tell Dorian?” Mia asked, stopping our hopping.

“He texted me that he knew I’d get it. Now he’s in the process of writing down every art museum in Scotland for us to visit.”

“Oh gosh, I’m going to be a third wheel,” Brina feigned illness.

“He’s not moving in, he’d just visit.” I whacked her with my sash. “Who would’ve thought a project would get me a job?”

“Me. That’s why I told you to send it in,” Mia pointed out.

“I can’t believe that out of all the jobs you applied to, the one in Scotland said yes! This is fate! We were meant to live together!” Sabrina shrieked.

“What about me! I’m just going to be alone in our apartment,” Mia complained.

“You’ll have James,” I reminded her, since they’d be working for the same media company, the one she had begged him to get her an interview at.

“That’s true.” She shrugged.

“I can’t believe you got it.” Brina smiled again.

“One job offer out of how many positions I applied to this semester? Three hundred?”

“It probably would’ve been two if Sylvie had actually sent that recommendation letter.”

“You don’t know that she hadn’t.”

“If her and her daughter were leaking information about you and Dorian the whole time to the press, then I doubt she wrote you a reference.”

“I still can’t believe Victoria’s her daughter.” Brina shivered. “So weird.”

“I’m more stunned that she had been lying about the Board caring about scholarship students’ personal business. I thought they were going to pull my tuition and instead they apologized for her behavior and fired her.”

“ Tenure Professor Fired definitely gave the students something else to focus on all year.”

“Adelaide Adorno,” one of the men on stage called.

“Go, go, go,” they urged, pushing me forward.

I attempted not to wobble in my heels as I took the steps onto the stage. I accepted the diploma, shook a hand, and then posed like everyone else did, facing the crowd.

Dorian’s blushful smile and wink in the second row made me beam.

I’m proud of you , it said.

Beside him was James, whistling for me.

I was filled with gratitude that our friendship survived after the night of the ball. With all our secrets laid out, we became a tightknit group that spent the spring semester studying together, barhopping, and creating way too many blackmail-worthy embarrassing memories.

I resisted blinking as a camera flash snapped and I was directed off the other side of the stage, back down the stairs. I was faced with a sea of smiling faces anchored by blouses and flowers and cards. My chest began to tighten. Small, thin papercuts dove for my heart as I looked at all the mothers and fathers and siblings.

I spotted Sabrina’s dad in the balcony to the left, in front of the windows. While Mia’s mom and dad and sisters and brothers sat just a few rows to the right of them.

“Adelaide!” The shout swiveled my focus to the right, where in the first row of the balcony stood a group of women flailing their arms with excitement.

Iris, Dotty, Cora, Evelyn, Jane, Beatrice, Lottie, Maureen.

And Auntie Laila.

They were holding cards. For me.

She came all the way here, for me .

My entire nervous system bubbled with unexpected, unfathomable, joy. I couldn’t contain the tears springing to my eyes as they applauded and blew me kisses.

I raised my hand and waved. I could only imagine how I looked: a smile that made my cheeks puffy, and watery eyes that made it look like I was holding in a sneeze.

They waved their arms, pointing to the chair, making me realize I should probably sit down.

As I turned into my row and sat, I couldn’t help but watch them for the entire ceremony, trying to confirm it wasn’t a hallucination or a trick of the light.

Watching them, I realized exactly what it must’ve felt like to have a scrapbook made for you. Because I was looking at one in motion.

Maybe life wasn’t all about protecting yourself and trying to push away pain.

Maybe forgetting was all about forwardness. To remain steady on the path forward while trying to pick up as many stones filled with gratitude and joy and hope so that the resentment that fueled the lack of forgiveness didn’t overwhelm the present.

There was something beautiful about falling in love with the uncertainty of life.