Chapter 22: Graduation

Graduation was held on the football field on Saturday morning, under a clear sky.

The senior class sat in folding chairs in rows of twenty, in white gowns that were already hot.

Tegan's wheelchair was parked at the end of the second row, and I sat on the folding chair beside it.

She had her cap on straight and her cast sticking out, and she had not said a word since I sat down.

I did not help her.

In the bleachers, my mother had saved three seats, and the one on her left held Drew in a borrowed tie.

He had not looked away from me since the processional.

The principal spoke for a long time about futures.

Then he read the names, one at a time, and the class stood and crossed the grass in pairs.

When they said Tegan Clayson, she did not wait to be wheeled.

She stood up on her good leg, took a crutch from under the chair, and went forward by herself.

Every kid on that field watched her cross.

She took her diploma and shook the principal's hand.

Then she turned and stepped to the microphone stand at the edge of the stage.

"Ms. Clayson," the principal said quietly. "The program doesn't include remarks."

"It's one minute," Tegan said. "Please."

He looked at the bleachers and at the board members in the front row.

Then he stepped back.

Tegan gripped the stand with both hands.

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