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“Mmm. I’m so awake. Movie, yeah? Might not even need the Red Bull,” Bren said as he jostled his boyfriend who’d stopped growing at fifteen.

“Might be better to save those for later. Wouldn’t want you falling asleep on our walk.”

“Wait,” Bren asked as A.J. led him out of the room. “What’s that thing I like?”

“You’ll see.”

53

Bren had always assumed Peacock’s graduation ceremony would have taken place in the auditorium, considering the seats could hold at least eight hundred people without breaking a sweat. He’d never factored the graduating class size into the equation, though. Two hundred and twenty-eight eighteen-year-olds crammed into the wings and green room would have been the recipe for a horror movie instead of a beloved North American tradition.

“Zane Vogel.”

A guy with close cropped brown hair walked across the raised platform of the church, flowing black robe billowing behind him. Bren couldn’t help but look over the space again. There was room for at least fifteen hundred people and not a Virgin Mary in sight. You’d think she would have landed an invite considering where they were.

“Tamara Wagner.”

While it had been a bit of a thrill—in the barest sense of the word—to see Dustin, Nat and Yu take their turn across the stage, Bren couldn’t help but wonder who this was all for. A few exceptions to the rule aside, none of his former classmates looked all that thrilled, and there were more than a few dozing grandparents in the pews.

“A.J. Walker.”

Oh.

Bren had told himself that after nearly two years of knowing the lad, he’d reached a place where getting sucker-punched by the sight of Arlo was a thing of the past—what a stupid thing to think.

Arlo was caught between grin and grimace as he shuffled across the platform, back stiff and head locked straight ahead save for frequent twitches towards the crowd. Strange how this was the same lad that threw on a skintight unitard and sang under burning stage lights for two hours. But he’d been playing at being a confident cat then, and right now he was simply Arlo.

There was no question which one Bren preferred.

He was on his feet before he realized what he was doing, hands making more noise than his entire row before he stuffed his fingers into his mouth and whistled. Arlo’s Mam gave a startled jump and Holly, who had put her headphones on after the first round of applause an hour and a half ago, clapped so hard Bren thought her little hands might fall off.

Arlo turned in time to catch a face full of the spattering laughter that rippled through the room and stopped his march.

Almost two years. Why was he acting like he didn’t know the first thing about Arlo?

Before Bren had a chance to sit down and shut up, Arlo’s grimace melted into a proper smile and, with a gesture of apology to Principal MacDonald, he put one arm behind his back and gave a low, sweeping bow to the audience.

Bren remembered that first talk in the greenhouse. A.J. had been sitting on the ground, unable to look at anything but the space over Bren’s shoulder. Had Bren had a hand in honing this man that stood before him? Or had he always been there somewhere, below the surface?

Arlo’s dad reached across his wife to clap Bren on the shoulder, even if he did poke him in the chest first.

“Your son’s somethin’ else, Mr. Walker,” Bren whispered as Arlo took his seat.

He waved his hand like he was asking Bren what else he expected, then leaned back to sit at attention.

Bren didn’t catch the names of the last handful of people that crossed the stage. How could he, with Arlo smiling like that?

He was lost in Arlo’s glow so long that he missed the first few lines of Principal MacDonald’s closing speech, tuning in only after Arlo’s Mam gave a small cough.

“I know you’re all eager to get some pictures with the faces you’ve seen through thirteen years of school, but there’s one little thing to clear up before we get to that point.”

It took a great deal of effort for Bren to stifle the groan that rose in his throat. He needed to get Arlo off that stage—preferably out of that robe while he was at it.

“As luck would have it, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting the source of this little deviation from tradition.”

Bren met Arlo’s eye and was pleased, if a little shocked, to see that he looked like he was dreaming of punting the principal through the nearest window, too.

“Owing to an unfortunate clerical error, this student had to leave Peacock after only one semester.”