Dream With Me (With Me Book 4) (25 page)

Soon, it’s time to get ready and, even though the temperature is cool and brisk, I know that it’ll feel hot in the gym. I opt for a bright pretty-in-pink dress that feels light and airy. It has a slight 1950s feel to it with the scooped neckline, a dipped in waist, and a flared skirt. I leave my hair down and slide into a pair of sparkly heels, the rhinestones and crystals an ombre of pink and silver. My makeup looks soft, except for the pop of pink—a strawberry vanilla that really tastes like a strawberry milkshake to me—on my lips. And I’ve got my nails done in—what else—
Pretty in Pink
.

I grab my robe and cap and head out to the main living area. Chloe’s wearing a cobalt blue tank dress and Taylor’s in a vivid violet.

“You both look amazing,” I say.

“You do, too,” Taylor says.

Chloe nods in agreement. “How are you feeling now?”

Of course when we were packing, I shed a few more tears about Griff.

“I feel like I’m all cried out,” I say. “And I’m ready to graduate.”

“Let’s go, then,” Chloe says.

We arrive at Green College
and head to the main building, where the cafeteria is located. Not surprisingly it’s already crowded with students. Some professors and office workers are getting everything in order. We bypass the inside, where there’s some pastries laid out, and head to the tables. We have to line up in alphabetical order, so I hug Chloe and Taylor briefly then head over to the designated area for last names from G to L.

As everyone shuffles in order, I look around. I see familiar faces—other students I shared classes with, hung out with at parties, or just know because it’s a friend of a friend of a friend kind of situation.

I easily spot Caleb Fox, since his area of tables is in front of mine. And because he’s a tall guy. His back is to me, but he’s got his robe and cap on, and it looks like he’s talking to Nick Brady. Nick should be with the A to Cs, but it doesn’t surprise me to see that Nick has left to talk to his friend.

Nor does it surprise me when I see Jamie stroll up to them from the back.

I wait anxiously to see if the last member of their core group will come up. I don’t know if I want to see Griff or not . . . or if it would be better not to run into him at all. I asked him not to look for me. To not approach me. But . . .

I love him. Still.

It’ll get better once I leave Vermont tomorrow. Distance will help. I hope so anyway.

But I continue to look for Griff; my focus on the side that he should walk from. That’s why when I hear “Evie,” from my
other
side, I jump and let out a small squeak.

I laugh it off when other students glance at me. So. Embarrassing. I steel myself as I turn around, because I know who it is.

“Griff,” I say coolly.

Never have I been so glad that my voice doesn’t reflect the turmoil in my heart. I want to hug him and kiss him. And I also want to kick him for coming up to me. Because seeing him in his black graduation robe and cap makes me want to forget last night. He’s got some special things on his robe to mark his
summa cum laude
honors and I have my
magna cum laude
to add to mine.

I wish we could just start over. I wish I could say:
Hey, it’s okay that you don’t want to fall in love, and I’ll pretend that you didn’t break my heart.

But yeah, I can’t do that.

I move a little away from the group of people to a side table pushed against one wall. It’ll give us some privacy.

Griff rakes his gaze over me. Taking me in.
Drinking
me in. I don’t know what to make of the look in his eyes. Of the yo-yo of my emotions.

“Evie,” he says again.

I haven’t yet put my robe on, and the vain part of me hopes that he likes what he sees. That he’s suffering right now because he misses me. I give myself a hard internal shake. Why do I still believe in the impossible?
Why?

“There’s something I need to say,” he says finally. “Something I didn’t say last night.”

I flinch, already thinking how horrible it will be. “Something else? Something that will cause me more pain?”

“Not—”

“I thought I told you to stay away,” I say.

Even though I was looking for him. Even though part of me wanted to see him. Too late I remember why I shouldn’t have wanted those things. There’s too much pain. Too much hurt. And I don’t want to have to sit in a two plus hour ceremony and go over
this
new conversation. I’ll already be going over what happened last night.

“I couldn’t,” he says. “Stay away, that is. I had to see you.”

“Griff.”

“I have to talk to you, Evie,” he says, his voice desperate. “I—”

“We’ve talked enough. You told me everything you had to say. And I’m not interested in hearing that—”

“You don’t under—”

Someone blows a shrill whistle, and then a voice booms: “In your places, everyone! We’re going to walk to the gymnasium now.”

“I have to go.
You
have to go,” I say.

He grabs my hand. “Evie.”

“Let go, Griff,” I say. “I’m done talking to you. You have nothing to say that I need to hear.”

His jaw firms and his grip tightens on my wrist. He steps closer.

For a wild moment, I don’t think he’s going to let me go. I think he’s going to pick me up over one shoulder and carry me off somewhere to have his wicked way with me. But that is . . . silly.

He may want me, but he doesn’t love me. Want isn’t enough anymore.

And then, in a blink of an eye, he lets me go. But he doesn’t step away.

“We will talk,” he says. “There is something I have to say. And you’ll hear it, one way or another.”

He stalks off before I have a chance to speak.

Only to leave me wondering . . .

What did he mean?

I wonder what he means
as I put my robe and cap on. I wonder what he means as I hurry and find my place in line. I wonder as we walk across Green College’s campus to the gymnasium.

I wonder as we take our seats. As speeches are made. I think about what he said just now. It makes me think about the fight, and about last night.

About exactly what he said.

And I can’t help it that I
don’t
want to fall in love.

Don’t.

Don’t want to.

I sit there, frozen with shock, as names of graduating seniors are read out.

He didn’t say
I’m not in love with you
. He didn’t say
I don’t love you.
He didn’t even say
I can’t love you
.

He said
I
don’t
want to fall in love.

Does this mean . . . Could it mean . . .

That he actually
loves
me.

It can’t, right? It can’t.

There’s something I need to say. Something I didn’t say last night.

I tell myself that he didn’t mean anything by it. That I’m reading too much into the
don’t want to fall in love
and what he said to me in the cafeteria.

That it’s nothing.

My row starts to get up and approach the stage, in preparation to have our names called. It seems like I’m standing there forever.

It gives me time to look out into the rows. Where I find Griff easily enough. He’s the only one looking at me so fiercely. My heart thumps hard in my chest.

The person ahead of me is suddenly called. And then I hear my name.

“Evelyn Grace Hart.”

I walk across the stage. I hear cheers from my family and friends. I shake the dean’s hand as I receive my diploma. I switch the tassel to the other side. And then I face the audience to head down the stairs back to my seat.

My heart pounds with each step. The hope in me grows with each name that is called. The thought that Griff could actually love me takes hold and doesn’t let go.

I war with myself. I tell myself it doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t love me. I’m looking for a last minute miracle when there won’t be any to be found. All he probably wants to say is a final good-bye. I’ll be devastated if all he wants to say is,
thanks for the memories
.

And then I hear his name. “Griffin William Sinclair.”

I watch him cross the stage. I watch him get his diploma and shake the dean’s hand. I watch him say something to the dean, even as the next name is called. The dean looks at Griff and smiles big, then nods at the older woman, who’s standing a little off to the left, announcing the names.

Griff goes to the older woman, and she looks toward the dean, who nods again. A brief moment that slows down in time.

And then the mic is passed to Griff.

My heart drowns all sounds out, all murmurs of conversation that start to happen. My breath stills. I straighten in my seat and stare wide-eyed at Griff.

Griff hates attention. He’s an introvert. The last thing I ever imagined him doing is to grab a microphone.

A loud, muffled sound carries out from bringing the mic too close to his mouth. He shakes his head ruefully and fixes it. Then he looks out to the rows until he finds me.

He looks
at
me.

“I have something to say,” he says, his low voice carrying out.

The whole place goes quiet.

I feel like I’m about to burst open.

“Evelyn Grace Hart,” he says.

And I hear gasps from my friends. From my family. From the people around me. Eyes are on me.

But I don’t care.

All my focus is on him.

“Evie, I have to say something. Something I didn’t say before. Something I should have said.”

“Well, say it,” someone booms out.

A few twitters of laughter break out.

“I’m getting to it,” Griff says.

More laughter that soon dies down.

“I love you, Evie.”

The whole place erupts in cheers and hoots and claps and “Awwws.”

“I love you,” he says again.

And then he drops the mic. It rings out to the floor and I’m dimly aware of the announcer picking it back up.

Griff strides down to my row.

I’m sitting in the middle. I get up, but for some reason, I can’t take another step. I feel like any moment I’ll wake up and discover that
none
of this is real.

And I don’t want that to happen.

People push back to make room for him, and then he’s next to me.

He’s touching me.

Taking me in his arms.

And he kisses me.

That
wakes me out of my frozen state.
That
kiss makes all of this real. I wasn’t dreaming. I was right to hope.

He loves me.

My arms go around him and hold on tight. I kiss him with all the love I have for him. I hear more cheers and hollers.

And then when we break away, Griff looks me at with such tenderness. With such love.

“I love you,” he says again.

“And I love you,” I say.

“And now,” the dean says, taking the mic briefly from the announcer, “we’ll get back to the graduation.”

Five Minutes after Graduation

‡

As soon as graduation ends
and we’re on the big expanse of green, I turn to Griff. There are curious glances, but for the most part, everyone is focused on finding their families and taking pictures. I know mine will come upon us at any moment. Just like I know Chloe and Taylor will make their way over as well as Griff’s friends and his older brother.

“You believe me, right?” Griff asks, a hint of worry in his dark eyes.

Of course I believe him. “You pushed me away,” I say instead. “You told me—”

“I know what I told you. Trust me, I know it all too well.” His gaze rakes over me, heat and love and determination in his expression. “I behaved like an ass. And you have every right to say . . .”

“To say what?”

He swallows hard. “That you don’t want me anymore. That you don’t believe me.”

“It is a quick turnaround,” I say.

“I was the stupid fool. Not you.” He steps closer to me. “Never you. I was too—”

I reach for his hands and feel the rightness of his hold when our fingers interlace.

“I was too scared,” he finishes. “You were right. I was scared. I kept telling you that it was happening too fast. But never admitted one thing to you.”

“And . . . what’s that?”

“I loved you from the start, but didn’t know it. Couldn’t put a name to it. Or rather,
wouldn’t
put a name to it. My feelings had never changed for you—that they’ve only grown stronger. What I feel for you today pales in comparison to what I felt four years ago. A week ago.”

Is this what true happiness feels like? As if I could float away on air. I feel buoyant, lit up by joy and giddiness, and the simple thrill that I love and am loved in return.

“And I don’t need six months. I don’t need six days. I don’t even need another six seconds,” Griff says. “I was stupid. I can’t promise I won’t ever be stupid again.”

“Well, you are a guy. That’s kind of a given.”

Griff smiles and then kisses me. “But I’ll never be so stupid again to let you go like I did. To push you away like I did. When I think what I did . . . how I acted . . .”

He shudders. He looks horrified.

“I know,” I say. “It broke my heart.”