The Exception by Lauren H. Mae

Forty

Emma unfolded the paper program, smoothing it on the lap of her floral sundress. She tipped her chin letting the sun hit her cheeks and breathed in deeply. “It’s a beautiful day for a happy ending.”

“Don’t,” Sonya whispered, arching her neck to try and catch a glimpse of Trav in a sea of black caps. She thought she saw him in the second row left, but she couldn’t be sure. Not from this far back.

This idea had a lot wrong with it, but she was starting to worry that bringing Emma was the dumbest part.

Emma smiled innocently. “What? I was talking about the graduation. Don’t pretend you don’t remember what it’s like to be up on that stage, excited for the next thing. It wasn’t that long ago.”

It seemed like a hundred years since she’d been excited about anything, and as much as it could be construed as self-inflated importance, she had the nagging feeling Trav wasn’t feeling the full extent of this milestone. Not with the way it had all gone down between them. That only made her feel worse.

She’d decided to sneak into Trav’s graduation because she just wanted one more glimpse of him with a smile on his face, but now she wasn’t sure she was going to get it.

“That’s not what you were talking about,” she hissed at Emma. “Don’t get your fairytale twisted. I just want to see him get his diploma and then we’re leaving.” The ache in Sonya’s chest started a rebuttal, but she shook her head as if she could scold it into submission.

“Sonya, ugh!” Emma’s forceful exclamation startled her.

Sonya waved her hand frantically. “Shhh, Em.” The couple in the folding chairs in front of them turned at the commotion, and she gave them a polite apology smile, dropping her voice. “I told you this was the plan. I just need you here for moral support.”

“The fact that you need moral support to hide in the back row of this field makes me think things aren’t as done as you think.”

Damn it. If everyone could just stop seeing right through her, she might be able to get through this day with her emotions intact. Yes, her heart was in a hundred stabby pieces, poking her from the inside, and hiding fifteen rows away from Trav on this very important day for him was killing her, but she was managing the situation. “We’ll talk about this later, Em.”

“Hey, sorry we’re late.”

Sonya’s head swiveled so quickly, she nearly got a crick in her neck. “Dani? What the hell are you doing here?”

Dylan fell in behind her and they took the two seats to Emma’s left. “We came to watch Trav graduate,” he said. Emma prompted him with a roll of her hand. “And not to interfere with the greater plan.”

Greater plan? Okay, she’d obviously made a mistake bringing Emma.

“This is too much,” Sonya said. Sweat soaked through the back of her yellow sundress and she bent to retrieve her purse from the ground, but Emma kicked it into the row behind them.

She scowled at her friend and turned to reach over the back of her chair. Before she could grab it, another hand snatched it away. “Cat?”

Cat handed Sonya’s purse to Dani, who tossed it on Dylan’s lap.

Josh had joined them too, looking mildly uncomfortable with the situation that played out around him. “I take it you didn’t know we were coming?” he asked, leaning down to hug her.

“I did not.” Sonya squeezed him back, swallowing whatever was building in the back of her throat—mortification mixed with the tiniest relief that she wasn’t there alone. Emma was right, her need for moral support had a deeper meaning, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. She wanted with her whole heart to see Trav walk across that stage. Even if it was the last time she saw him.

“Where’s Adam?” she asked, blinking away the moisture pooling in her eyes. “You didn’t want to invite him along for the show?”

“He rode with us,” Cat said. “He’s using the Porta-Potty.”

On cue, he appeared, squeezing by a row of people to take the seat on Sonya’s other side.

The crowd wasn’t huge, given it was a summer semester graduation, and her entourage now made up a good chunk of their section. Her plan to hide in plain sight withered in the warm August sunshine. “Can you all just please act right?”

She split her dagger gaze between Adam and Dylan, the two most likely offenders, because the ceremony was starting and she only had a brief moment to convey the threat.

Dylan put a hand over his heart but his smirk betrayed the gesture.

Adam just shrugged.

She was going to kill Emma for this.

The soft music that had ushered them to their seats petered out and a grey-haired man took the podium. Sonya let her eyes glaze and the words trail off without being heard. She didn’t think she could take any sentimental speeches right now. She glanced around the crowd, wondering who else was here to support Trav. Friends? Family?

Jack Travis was probably here somewhere. He’d better be, she thought on Trav’s behalf. She couldn’t imagine Trav’s father skipping this, but then again, she’d met the man so maybe she could.

God, she wished she could see him. If Dr. Travis wasn’t there, Trav’s feelings might be hurt. If he was there, Trav could be nervous, self-conscious the way he only ever was around his father. She knew these things about him, which made hiding from him now even worse.

The memory of Trav standing across Abi’s office from her, shoulders slumped while his dad made his disappointment clear to the room, whispered to her. The way Trav’s bright blue eyes had looked so tired before they’d settled on hers in one last plea for backup.

And she’d stayed silent.

Just like she was now.

Abi was right. She’d epically missed the point and this was her punishment. This… sorrow in her belly. It was far worse than any professional reprimand, but she’d figured that out too late.

The sappy words came to an end and one by one Trav’s classmates were called onto the stage to shake hands with the grey-haired man and receive their diploma.

Sonya took a steadying breath when they got to T, and she felt Emma’s fingers curl around her wrist.

“Benjamin Travis,” the man at the podium said.

On either side of her, obnoxious cheers rose up over the crowd.

Her cheeks caught fire. “What did I say?” she hissed at Adam while he fist pumped the air. Dylan put his fingers to his lips and whistled. Dani shouted something.

She was at a damn adult daycare.

A couple three rows up on the other side turned over their shoulders, stretching to see who was acting like the paparazzi. They had to be friends of Trav’s.

Great.

On the stage, Trav hesitated, looking out over the crowd.

Shit, he’d heard them. Of course, he heard them. They were the worst.

Sonya sunk further into her chair, but she watched him between the heads of the people in front of her. He was smiling. He was happy, as he should be, but it was lemon juice in her open wound to know she wasn’t going to get to share in it. She wouldn’t get to run to him after he tossed his cap, and wrap her arms around his neck, tell him how proud she was.

And she was so proud.

All she could hope for was that his father would find some modicum of decency and feel that same pride. Or whoever that was looking at Sonya’s friends curiously. Whoever they were, whoever he had here, she hoped Trav felt all of the pride and admiration she couldn’t give him today.

By the time the whole class had been called, the back of Sonya’s throat felt like she was swallowing glass. Her eyes burned, so she slipped her sunglasses onto her nose, pretending the glare from the white chairs had gotten to her.

She smoothed her hands over her skirt, controlling her breathing. “Welp,” she said, holding a hand out to Dylan for the purse he still held hostage. “That’s it. Time to go. Thank you all very mu—”

“Sonya?”

Sonya turned to see a small woman in a purple dress eyeing her curiously.

“You’re Sonya, right?” The baby on her hip tugged at her long brown braid while she waited for Sonya’s answer.

“Yes.”

“I’m Tif. I just, I couldn’t help but notice you.” Her eyes darted to the row of Sonya’s friends who had all suddenly decided to shut up. “We’re friends of Trav’s.”

She pointed back to her seat where the man she’d been sitting with stood with his hands in his pockets, looking like this was not his idea as a little boy ran circles around him.

“I know you were a big part of making this happen for him and I wanted to thank you.”

She must have no idea, Sonya thought. She shifted on her feet to keep her heels from pressing into the soft grass. “Um, I appreciate that, but Trav accomplished this on his own.”

“He was determined, and we knew he’d see this one through,” Tif said. “But it caught me off guard how confident he seemed the last time we spoke. I figured being in the same hospital as his dad would be the thread that unravelled the whole thing, you know? That he’d end up going into this new thing with a chip on his shoulder. But that’s not how it turned out, and I think that was because of you, so thank you.”

Sonya nodded, unsure how to respond.

“We were going to head over to say hi,” Tif said. “Want to come?”

“Oh, I…”

“She does,” Emma said, standing.

“She was just on her way,” Cat chimed in.

Tif’s smile bloomed either with blissful naivety or camaraderie, Sonya couldn’t tell. “Great. Come on, then.”

Tif turned, expecting Sonya to follow. When she didn’t, Sonya felt Emma’s hand on her forearm, tugging.

She looked at her friend in askance, but Emma just shrugged. “Moral support isn’t over.”

Sonya’s knees wobbled as she navigated the path to the white tent set up beside the stage. People stood in small groups, posing for family members with cameras. Some had already filled paper cups with punch. Sonya’s stomach did a full back handspring.

She recognized Trav’s broad shoulders immediately. He stood beside a small, well, small compared to him woman with brown skin and greying dark hair. Marielle, Sonya realized.

He’d ditched the black gown, slinging it over his elbow, and the pale blue dress shirt he wore fit him perfectly. In her mind’s eye she could see the outline of his tattoo on the right blade. She could almost feel it beneath her fingers.

She froze in place, her voice refusing to work, and Tif disappeared in a quick flash of purple.

So she did know what she was doing.

Emma hovered a step behind as Sonya stepped up to their circle, intending to quietly announce her presence, but Jack Travis got there first. His booming voice froze her in place. And turned a few heads.

“Don’t I deserve some thanks here?” he said. “This celebration of mediocrity wouldn’t be possible if I hadn’t stepped in to clean up another one of your messes.”

The courage Sonya had summoned to speak to Trav pumped the brakes. What did he just say?