Chapter Eight
The Day We Made It
Saturday, June 7, 2014 — 2:41 PM
Barclays Center looked bigger from the inside.
Maine had been there before.
Games. Concerts. Events.
But today was different.
Today, the arena wasn't built around a court.
It was built around them.
Thousands of seats stretched upward, filling with families, teachers, friends, and the occasional relative who had been talking about graduation for the past six months.
The floor had been transformed.
Rows of chairs.
A stage.
A massive screen displaying the words:
DU BOIS PREPARATORY ACADEMY — CLASS OF 2014
Maine stopped near the entrance.
Rome walked beside him, already looking around.
"Yo."
"What?"
"We really doing this."
Maine smiled.
"Yeah."
Rome shook his head.
"This is crazy."
Monique caught up behind them.
"You two better not get emotional before we even sit down."
Rome looked at her.
"Who's emotional?"
"You."
"I haven't even started."
Monique laughed.
Maine looked toward the floor.
Students were everywhere.
Some were taking pictures.
Some were fixing their caps.
Others were already looking for family in the stands.
It felt chaotic.
Perfectly chaotic.
Maine adjusted his gown.
Rome looked at his cap.
"You still got that ugly thing?"
Maine looked at him.
"Monique made it."
"I know. That's why I'm saying something."
Monique slapped Rome's arm.
"Leave his cap alone."
Rome grinned.
Maine touched the edge of it.
The little details were still there.
Basketball.
Thirty-two.
Naruto.
Music.
Pieces of the person he'd been before today.
He wondered how many of them he'd carry forward.
The ceremony started at three.
When the lights dimmed, the noise inside Barclays gradually disappeared.
Maine sat between Rome and Monique.
For the first time all afternoon, nobody had anything funny to say.
The principal walked onto the stage.
Applause filled the arena.
Then came the speeches.
Teachers.
Administrators.
Students.
Stories about late assignments.
Bad cafeteria food.
Hallway arguments.
Pep rallies.
Tests.
Teachers who had somehow survived them all.
Every story earned another laugh.
Maine looked around.
Jada was a few rows ahead.
Other classmates were scattered throughout the floor.
Rome leaned over.
"Remember sophomore year when—"
"Don't."
Rome laughed quietly.
Monique smiled.
Then the student speaker stepped forward.
Monique.
She walked onto the stage with the confidence she'd carried through four years of school.
Maine watched her.
Rome whispered, "That's our president."
Maine nodded.
"Yeah."
Monique stood behind the podium.
Her speech wasn't about being the smartest person in the room.
It wasn't about perfect grades.
It was about everybody who had made it there.
The parents who worked double shifts.
The teachers who stayed late.
The friends who kept each other going.
The people who didn't know what they wanted yet.
The people who already had a plan.
She talked about leaving without pretending they weren't scared.
About becoming adults without having all the answers.
About how success wasn't just reaching the next thing.
Sometimes it was looking around and realizing how far you'd already come.
Maine listened.
When Monique finished, the arena erupted.
Rome stood first.
Maine followed.
He clapped until his palms hurt.
Monique found them from the stage.
She smiled.
Then she disappeared behind the curtain.
Nasir's speech came later.
Maine straightened in his seat.
He hadn't heard it beforehand.
Nobody had.
Nasir walked onto the stage to another wave of applause.
Maine watched the crowd react to his father.
Not as a politician.
Not as somebody important.
As somebody they respected.
Nasir looked across the arena.
Then his eyes found Maine.
For half a second, everything else disappeared.
Nasir smiled.
Maine smiled back.
Then his father turned toward the microphone.
"Today isn't about what you were supposed to become."
The arena quieted.
"It's about the fact that you made it here."
Maine listened.
Nasir spoke about Brooklyn.
About young people being told to lower their expectations because of where they came from.
About families who sacrificed.
About communities that believed in their children even when the world didn't.
"You don't owe anybody a version of yourself that makes them comfortable," Nasir said.
Maine felt that one.
"So wherever you go next, remember this."
Nasir paused.
"Don't inherit somebody else's definition of success."
The applause came slowly at first.
Then all at once.
Maine looked down.
That was his father.
Not the public figure.
Not today.
Just Dad.
After the speeches came the names.
One by one.
Student after student crossed the stage.
Applause.
Pictures.
Handshakes.
Hugs.
Then—
"Jermaine Connors."
Rome slapped Maine's shoulder.
"Go."
Maine stood.
For one second, his legs felt heavier than they should have.
Then he walked.
The lights seemed brighter from the stage.
He could see the crowd.
His family.
Friends.
People he hadn't spoken to in years.
And somewhere among them—
Lia.
Maine's eyes found her.
She was smiling.
Not the complicated smile from the hallway.
Not the guarded one.
Just proud.
Maine held her gaze for a second.
Then he turned toward the diploma.
The moment passed.
But it stayed with him.
He shook the principal's hand.
Took the diploma.
Turned toward the crowd.
And smiled.
Four years.
Done.
Afterward, the arena became chaos again.
Families flooded the floor.
Phones came out.
Pictures everywhere.
Rome grabbed Maine before he could get away.
"We did it!"
Maine laughed.
"Yeah, we did."
Monique joined them.
She wrapped both arms around them.
"I'm proud of y'all."
Rome looked at her.
"You better be."
"I'm proud of myself too."
"Obviously."
She laughed.
Then somebody called Maine's name.
"Jermaine!"
He turned.
Lia stood several feet away.
Her family was behind her.
She walked closer.
"Congratulations."
Maine smiled.
"You too."
They stood there.
No history.
No explanations.
No apology.
Just two people who had once known each other better than almost anybody else.
Lia looked at his cap.
"Monique did a good job."
"She did."
A small smile.
"I like the Naruto."
Maine laughed.
"You noticed that?"
"Of course I noticed."
For a second, it felt easy.
Then the moment passed.
Lia stepped back.
"Have a good summer, Maine."
"You too, Lia."
She walked away.
Maine watched her go.
Rome looked at him.
Maine didn't say anything.
Neither did Rome.
For once, he didn't need to.
Later, near the edge of the floor, Lia found Nasir.
"Uncle Nasir."
He turned immediately.
"Lia."
He smiled and opened his arms.
She hugged him.
"Look at you."
"Stop."
"You're grown."
"You sound like my grandmother."
"That's because your grandmother is usually right."
Lia laughed.
Nasir looked at her for another second.
"You have a good day?"
"Yeah."
"You and Jermaine spoke?"
Lia's smile faded slightly.
"A little."
Nasir didn't push.
He simply nodded.
"That's something."
Lia looked toward the crowd.
"Tylil would've been screaming right now."
Nasir's smile changed.
"Yeah."
"He would've embarrassed me."
"He would've embarrassed everybody."
She laughed.
Then Lia reached into her bag.
"I found something."
She pulled out the photograph.
Nasir looked down.
Four young men stared back at him.
Tylil.
Melo.
Victor.
And himself.
Younger.
Unburdened.
Before life had separated them into different directions.
Nasir didn't speak.
His thumb brushed the edge of the photograph.
Lia watched him.
"You remember it?"
Nasir looked at her.
"Yeah."
His voice was quieter now.
"I remember."
Lia smiled.
"I found it at home."
Nasir looked at the photograph again.
For a moment, the arena seemed far away.
He could almost hear Tylil laughing.
Victor talking too loud.
Melo arguing with somebody.
Four kids who thought they had forever.
Nasir blinked.
Then the moment was gone.
"You should keep that safe," he said.
"I will."
Lia slipped it back into her bag.
Neither of them said anything else about it.
They didn't need to.
Across the floor, Monique had noticed.
Not the photograph itself.
The way Nasir had looked at it.
The way Lia had looked at him.
Later, when they were walking toward the exit, Monique fell into step beside her.
"What was that picture?"
Lia glanced at her.
"My dad. Uncle Nasir. A couple other people."
"Old friends?"
"I think so."
Monique looked at her.
"You think?"
Lia shrugged.
"There's a lot I don't know."
Monique waited.
Lia didn't elaborate.
Outside, Brooklyn was waiting.
Families spilled onto sidewalks.
Cars lined the streets.
Graduates posed for pictures beneath the summer sky.
Maine stepped outside with Rome and Monique.
He looked back at Barclays one last time.
Four years had brought him here.
Now there was nowhere left to hide behind the word student.
No more pretending the future was far away.
He had made it.
So had everyone around him.
Maine smiled.
Then he walked forward.
The summer had officially begun.