The morning sun cuts through the windows of Midtown High's auditorium, catching dust motes in its light. I sit in a folding chair between Jessica and Peter, the cap heavy on my head, the gown stiff and unfamiliar. Principal Warren drones on about futures and potential and the road ahead. I've heard speeches like this before. In another life, I sat through one just like it.
But this isn't that life.
Time moves strangely when you're fighting Digimon and dodging SHIELD agents and trying to keep your friends alive. It feels like yesterday that I was breaking up a fight between Gatomon and BlackGatomon in my apartment. Now I'm sitting in a gymnasium that Stark Industries helped rebuild, wearing a cap and gown, pretending I'm just another kid graduating high school.
I scan the audience. George Stacy sits with Helen, both of them beaming. Helen clutches a small bouquet of flowers. George has his phone out, already recording. A few rows behind them, Uncle Ben and Aunt May sit side by side. Ben's arm rests around May's shoulders. She's dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
Nobody's here for me.
I knew that coming in. It's not like I have parents to summon. Ethan Kepler's parents are gone, and my real parents — the ones from before — died in another universe entirely. I made peace with that a while ago. Mostly.
Beside me, Jessica shifts in her seat. She's staring straight ahead, her jaw set. I know that look. She's doing the same math I am, counting the empty spaces where family should be. Olivia offered to come. I told her she didn't have to. She's not my mother. She's my landlord who makes terrible coffee and bakes cookies and somehow became the closest thing either of us has to family.
I lean over. "Hey."
Jessica glances at me. Her eyes are dry but distant.
"You good?"
"I'm fine." She straightens her cap. "Just thinking."
"About?"
She's quiet for a moment. "About how my mom would've cried through the whole thing. And my dad would've taken a hundred pictures. And Phillip would've made fun of me for tripping on stage."
I don't have a response for that. Not one that doesn't sound hollow.
"You've got me," I say instead. "And the weird digital cats."
The corner of her mouth twitches. Almost a smile.
My Digivice buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out just enough to see the screen.
Gatomon's face appears, her blue eyes bright.
CONGRATULATIONS, ETHAN. YOU DID IT.
BlackGatomon pushes into the frame.
DON'T GET SENTIMENTAL. IT'S JUST HIGH SCHOOL.
BUT... GOOD WORK.
I bite back a laugh. Jessica glances at the screen, and this time she does smile.
On Jessica's lap, her own Digivice glows. Impmon's voice crackles through, loud enough that Peter leans over to look.
"HEY, JESSICA! YOU GRADUATED! THAT MEANS YOU'RE OFFICIALLY SMARTER THAN ME!"
"Impmon," Gatomon says flatly. "You are a Digimon. You never attended school."
"DETAILS."
Jessica covers her mouth, but her shoulders shake. I feel something loosen in my chest.
Principal Warren calls our row to stand. We file toward the stage, a river of black gowns. When my name is called — "Ethan Kepler" — I walk across the stage, shake Warren's hand, and accept the diploma. The audience claps. Somewhere in the crowd, I hear Helen Stacy whoop. Uncle Ben gives a solid, approving nod.
It's not nothing.
After the ceremony, the gymnasium erupts into chaos. Families swarm their graduates. Cameras flash. Hugs are exchanged. I stand off to the side, holding my diploma, watching Peter get swept up in a tearful embrace with Aunt May. Ben claps him on the back, his face proud.
Jessica stands next to me. She's holding her diploma against her chest like a shield.
"We should find Olivia," I say.
"She said she'd meet us outside."
We push through the crowd toward the main entrance. The late afternoon sun is warm on my face when we step out onto the front steps. Families mill around on the lawn, taking photos by the school sign.
"Ethan! Jessica!"
I turn. Olivia is walking toward us, her blonde hair catching the light. She's wearing a fitted dress and heels, and she's carrying a small gift bag in each hand. Her smile is wide and genuine.
She stops in front of us, looking us up and down.
"Look at you two. All grown up."
"Olivia." Jessica's voice is quiet.
Olivia hands each of us a gift bag. Inside mine is a leather-bound journal and a pen. The journal has my initials embossed on the cover — E.K. Jessica opens hers to find a set of professional-grade art pencils.
"I know it's not much," Olivia says. "But I wanted you both to have something."
"Olivia, you didn't have to—" I start.
"I know I didn't have to." She cuts me off gently. "I wanted to."
Jessica hugs her. It's sudden and tight, and Olivia makes a small surprised sound before wrapping her arms around Jessica. I see Jessica's shoulders shake once.
When they pull apart, Olivia's eyes are bright. She turns to me.
"Your turn."
I hug her. She smells like vanilla and coffee.
"I'm proud of you, Ethan," she says into my shoulder. "Both of you."
Something hot presses behind my eyes. I blink it away.
"Thanks, Olivia."
We pull apart just as Gwen and Peter arrive with their families. Helen immediately starts fussing over Gwen's cap, adjusting it for photos. George shakes my hand, then Jessica's, his grip firm.
"Proud of you kids," he says. "Both of you."
Ben and May come over. May hugs me like she's known me for years, which, in a way, she has. Ben gives me that steady, measuring look — the one that says he sees more than he lets on.
"You've done well, son," he says quietly.
The words hit harder than they should.
George herds everyone together. "All right, all four of you. Let's get a picture."
We arrange ourselves on the steps — me, Jessica, Gwen, and Peter in a row. Our families fan out behind us. Helen holds up her phone.
"Say 'graduated'!"
"Graduated!" we shout.
The flash goes off. Then another. Then George insists on one more with everyone making silly faces. Peter crosses his eyes. Gwen sticks out her tongue. Jessica actually laughs.
Olivia stands to the side, watching. When I catch her eye, she gives me a small nod.
This is family. Not the one I was born into. Not the one I lost. But the one I found.
Peter slings an arm around my shoulder. "So. Party at the burger place?"
"Obviously," Gwen says.
Jessica falls into step beside me as we walk toward the parking lot. Impmon's voice pipes up from her Digivice.
"IS THERE FOOD AT THIS PARTY?"
"Impmon," Gatomon sighs.
"WHAT? IT'S A LEGITIMATE QUESTION."
BlackGatomon snickers. "At least someone here has their priorities straight."
I look at Jessica. She's smiling — really smiling — for the first time all day.
"Yeah," I say. "There's food."
And for the first time in a while, the empty space where family should be doesn't feel so empty anymore.
***
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