Chapter 4

Graduation

The last few weeks of the term went by without incident. As Mr. Olson had predicted, I received the letter from the law school, along with an apology from the Dean. Apparently, the earlier letter had been a “clerical error.” “Of course,” I thought to myself, “A clerical error, conveniently prompted by a certain senator. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Olson, I’d probably be stuck working retail after graduation, struggling to save up for law school.”

Graduation day had finally arrived, and I found myself sitting on the riser with the speakers and VIPs at our class’s ceremony. I was up there because I had ranked among the top five graduates—number one, to be precise. The difference between me and the Korean girl, who I’d never met before but was the second-highest graduate, was a mere 0.01 of a point. For all I knew, she could’ve been a ringer. Regardless, she sat next to me, scanning the crowd for her family, just as I was searching for mine.

My family was simple—just my mom. My father disappeared when I was a toddler. He was in the Navy and went on a cruise, but when his ship had leave in Italy, he never came back. When the ship left port, he wasn’t on it, and eventually, he was listed as a deserter. That was seventeen years ago, and since then, it’s just been my mom and me. If I hadn’t learned early how to work hard, I’m not sure where I’d be or what I’d have achieved.

As I waited for the graduation ceremony to begin, I scanned the program and the list of graduating seniors. Someone with a twisted sense of humor had listed me as William Freytag, with Karen Olson-Freytag right underneath my name. I cringed when I saw it. I could already picture my mom having a million questions for me.

To make matters worse, I spotted my mother in the audience, and sitting right next to her was Mr. Olson himself. They seemed deep in conversation, animated and engaged. Every so often, my mother would glance up at me on the riser, her gaze speaking volumes—telling me, without a word, that a very unpleasant conversation was coming. Mr. Olson, on the other hand, would catch my eye from time to time, offering a reassuring smile, as if to say, “Relax, I’ve got this.”

I looked down at my graduating class and spotted Karen chatting with those around her while we waited for the ceremony to start. She’d glance up at me, smile, and wave, then return to her conversation. Karen was upbeat, happy—maybe she’d heard from an attorney, and the annulment was finally in the works. I hoped so. This whole mess was starting to weigh on me. Technically, I was married, but not living with the woman who was my wife in name only. It was a crazy situation, and one I’d be glad to put behind me—something I could hopefully laugh about someday.

The university president led the processional, followed by all the university’s dignitaries filing in. The VIPs who were to receive honorary degrees brought up the rear, taking their seats as the last of the procession. The ceremony kicked off with the convocation, followed by speeches from the VIPs, each encouraging the graduating seniors to make their mark on the world. It turned into a long, monotonous two hours of speeches and well-meaning encouragement for the graduates.

Then it was my turn to speak, as I was the top graduating senior. I kept my speech short and to the point, simply thanking everyone who had been in my life and helped me become who I was today. I even mentioned Mr. Olson and Karen, though I didn’t refer to them by name. Karen looked up at me with a strange expression on her face, causing me to momentarily lose my place in my speech notes. I had to take a second to find it. When I looked at Karen again, she had tears running down her cheeks. I was concerned that something I had said might have offended her. I would find out soon enough. When I finished my speech, I looked out at my mom, and I could see from her expression that she was proud of me. I also glanced over at Mr. Olson, who had a smile on his face and was giving me a thumbs-up. He must have liked my speech. I looked down at Karen again, and there it was—the same look she gave me when I told her she was the most beautiful woman in our class.

It was time for the diplomas to be handed out. The Korean girl and I were the first to receive ours. Once we had our diplomas, we returned to our seats and waited quietly as the rest of our classmates followed suit. I couldn’t stop wondering, “Who was she, and why had I never noticed her before?” I made a mental note to ask around—maybe someone knew who she was.

When it was Karen’s turn to receive her diploma, I flashed her my best smile and gave her a thumbs-up as she passed. In return, she gave me that goofy look. The Korean girl beside me giggled and covered her mouth to hide her laugh. What did she see that I didn’t? I made a mental note to ask her before the ceremony ended. One thing I did notice, though, was that Michael Stanley and that cheerleader weren’t in line to receive their diplomas. I was sure there was a story behind that.

When the ceremony ended, the Korean girl and I led the processional out, followed by our fellow graduates. Those on the podium and the guests in the crowd remained seated. Once we were finally outside the auditorium and everyone was in a celebratory mood, Karen ran over to me, pulled me into a hug, and kissed me square on the lips. I was sure it was all for show, though—she didn’t act that way around me the rest of the time.

“William, did you really say I was as precious to you as your diploma? That I was one of the most valuable takeaways from your college days? You sure know how to stroke my ego. Michael never once gave me a compliment like that—he would only mention my physical attributes. Maybe he actually did me a favor when he got us married at that dreadful truck stop outside of Reno. He got the skank, and I ended up with the man I didn’t know I wanted or needed.”

All the girls around us who heard her say that gasped, “Ah!” They crowded around her, offering hugs and sharing comments I couldn’t quite hear. I wanted to get away as quickly as possible, find my mother, and get whatever she was going to unload on me over with so I could move on with my life. That annulment couldn’t come fast enough. Maybe celibacy wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be—I knew my life had been a lot simpler back then.