Chapter Text
Noel had made up his mind.
To celebrate surviving finals, he would ask Mischa Bachinski if he was doing anything for his birthday. Today. No backing out of it, no running away.
Borthday, he thought to himself, and giggled.
Noel smiled awkwardly from the stage, the graduation robe horribly stuffy and itchy. The rows of grinning parents’ faces felt disorienting, and he wished he had Mischa behind him or even next to him, but the teachers had placed Mischa at the very back.
And of course, who else could be valedictorian but Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg?
She got up before them, a microphone in one hand and a piece of paper in another, and Noel marvelled at how the sun set her ginger hair on fire.
“Friends,” she said, “student body, teachers, parents. I am honoured to be able to stand before you and speak as representatives of this year’s graduating students. I had a speech prepared for his very occasion, but –” some parents gasped as she ripped the paper into pieces “– I feel I must speak from my heart.”
Noel’s mind flashed to Karnak, and he giggled again, earning a look from a teacher. He suspected it was the heat making him giddy.
“This year started out as a crash,” Ocean continued, nudging the mike towards herself. “Quite literally, for me and the St. Cassian Chamber Choir.” There were a few chuckles in the audience. “But even with the pain and struggles brought on by this school year, it has been wonderful. I am only disappointed I have not gotten to known most of you truly in these many years we have been together. And… however disastrous, accidents happen. In fact, I believe that being so close to death on the Cyclone has just drawn me to be aware that ‘Carpe diem!’ what a lovely theme.
I thank you, my friends, for being with me throughout this year. I thank you, student body, for surviving, and graduating with the best efforts. I thank you, teachers, for opening so many new paths in my life and teaching me not only about our textbook studies, but also about adulthood, as scary as it sounds. I thank you, parents, for being with your kids and hopefully, supporting them and their decisions. I thank you, my parents, for… opening my eyes.”
She kept going, and Noel had to smile. She’d stressed about this speech, perfecting it, overthinking it, and Noel felt something blossom in his chest.
Pride. He was proud of Ocean O’Connell Rosenburg.
She threw up her fist, and he could see her smiling, gazing out, freckles standing out from the sun. “So, seize the day!”
The field erupted into applause, and Noel cupped his hands over his mouth and whooped. Ocean’s shouted “Thank you!” was lost in the sound. He could see Constance doing the same, in front, and he could hear Mischa, faintly, and the combined students’ voices was a horribly chaotic noise, an off-key symphony, but also the perfect harmony.
When the first hat was flung into the air the noise just doubled and tripled. Noel grabbed his off and frisbee-threw it upwards, watching the sun flash on the rim as it spun, round and round and round. He screamed with them as the sky was covered by a thundercloud of hats, the teachers’ orders muffled by the roaring thunder of their cheers. Noel thought he would end up deaf after, but it felt like a wonderful way to go.
Students began to step off the stands, and, head whirling, Noel nearly tripped and fell, laughing, spirits sky-high. His vision was a whirl of coloured spinning lights, his heart pounding, racing in his ears. He found Ocean, still standing at the podium with her hair flattened from the cap but still shining, and tackled her in a hug. He took her hands.
“Fucking amazing,” he yelled over the noise. Then, in a smaller voice he didn’t know if she could hear, “I’m really fucking proud of you.”
Constance and Penny found them, and started talking over each other, praising, laughing, screaming. Noel couldn’t hear anything. Everything had turned to
background noise, faded but still very much present, enveloping him and suffocating and claustrophobic, but in a weirdly good way.
“I’m so high right now I can never come down!” he heard Constance shriek, and they burst into laughter.
“Let’s head off,” Ocean said, grinning, and so they did.
Noel was scanning the crowd of parents for a certain boy, a certain Ukrainian boy, a certain Ukrainian boy he wanted to kiss in front of everyone because this would be their last kiss as students. The ending kiss of a chapter.
There he was. Looking around as well, frowning faintly, but his whole face lit up when they made eye contact.
Noel thought he moved, or maybe he didn’t, he wasn’t sure. But he felt bumping bodies, the dizzying flash of the sun in his eyes, then he was looking up at Mischa Bachinski, and Mischa Bachinski was looking back down at him, and he had his hands on his shoulders and Mischa’s were on his waist.
They kissed.
In open daylight.
In front of all their childhood friends, their teachers, their parents.
Everything faded away, like it was in the movies. The camera sharpened on them, just them, and the world could be well a million miles away. Noel savoured every second, the sweet, sweet feeling of something blossoming in his chest again.
Pride. At himself. At Mischa.
Fear. Where was his mother? Was she seeing this?
They broke apart.
He was smiling stupidly, and, out of the corner of his eye, he could see the rest of the choir going berserk. He was pretty sure Constance was filming.
“Do I not get a kiss, too?” Penny laughed.
Noel reached over and kissed her on the cheek. “Happy?”
“You old romantic.”
There were three picnic tables at east side of the school, and after a couple more pictures with teachers and parents, they agreed to meet up there. Their usual spot.
Mischa was already sitting down, and talking to Penny. Their robes were in a pile on the end of the table, and Noel slipped his off.
“So soon?” said Mischa.
“Yeah,” Noel smiled. “Mama’s pretty busy, so we took pictures before everything. I couldn’t find her.”
“Oh great,” Penny sighed. “I’m third-wheeling.”
“I bet you Constance will be here last,” Misch challenged as Noel slipped onto the bench.
“Oh, you’re on,” Penny grinned. “Five bucks. I’m betting on Ricky.”
“Ten,” Noel urged. “Come on.”
“Seven,” said Mischa, eyeing him.
“Nope. Ten.”
“You’re not even betting!” Penny protested.
“Exactly,” Noel laughed. “Now. Ten.”
“Deal,” Mischa held his hand out to Penny.
She took it without hesitation. “Oh, fuck yeah, it’s on.”
They shook, and Noel was reminded of his question. “Oh, yeah, Mich, by the way, are –”
He was interrupted when his phone rang.
His mom was calling.
Caught up in the moment, Noel didn’t think much of it.
“Yikes, sorry,” he laughed, gesturing at his phone. “I need to take this.
There was a chorus of goodbyes as he got up to walk under the shade of a nearby tree, picking up as he hummed a tune that felt oddly familiar, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.
“Hi? Mama?”
“Noel, sweetie,” she said, sounding… off. Something didn’t feel quite right. “You know I love you.”
“Yes, mama,” he said, not sure where this was going. “I love you, too. I’m still at the graduation. What –”
“Noel, what have I said about dialling it down?”
He froze. Blinked hard. Mouth open, but nothing came out of his throat.
Was she here? Did somebody tell her? How did she know? Did she disapprove. He didn’t want her to. He really didn’t. But he couldn’t let go of Mischa. He wouldn’t. His mind whirled, dizzying, and he was suddenly very glad there was a tree to lean on.
“Noel? Are you still there?”
“Yes, mama,” he croaked.
“We’ll work on it, alright? When I get home.” There were faint voices on the other end. “Well. I have to go, Noel. I’ll see you soon?”
“See you,” he whispered, but realized she had already hung up.
Noel looked back at the table. Ocean was there, taking off her gown, and Mischa was talking fast with his hands moving like they always did, non-stop.
He hesitated.
Noel Gruber plastered on a smile and headed back to the table.
He kissed Mischa on the cheek, silencing the boy, making a promise to himself.
Noel Gruber was not going to let Mischa Bachinski go.