The hats fly into the air. And then my choked gasp is caught and magnified over the sound of the microphone as, in a single coordinated movement, half the class—more?—have reached down and whipped off their gowns, all of them throwing them in the air, all of them in bikinis and bathing suits and all kinds of clothes that violate all the dress codes, and then there is a roar that blows the top of my head off, and a thundering cheer that feels like every beat of my heart.

All of us, in every type of body, brave and mostly naked and cheering under the sun, hugging, happy to be out of the sweaty black robes and beautiful, all of them. I had no idea this was going to happen.

“Oh my god!” I shout into the microphone. “To the greatest senior class that ever was!” And they all erupt and swarm their friends and family sitting behind them, onto the lawn, down to the lake, the cheers and laughter as bright as today.

I unzip my own gown—I’ve got a dress underneath, unlike almost everyone else—and push my way through the crowd to find my mother, who throws her arms around me and gives me a huge bouquet of red roses. Her new boyfriend, whose name I can’t remember, smiles kindly and tells me that I was good up there, and I kind of like him.

“We’ll meet you at the restaurant, honey,” my mother says, putting her arms around me. “Oh, you look so slim in this dress.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I tell her.

“Benny’s paying!” she whispers too loudly in my ear. “So the place is fancy.”

“Thank you, Benny!” I say, and he actually blushes, puts his arm around my mother, and squishes her tight.

“Bring your friends!” my mother says, and I spin around to see the three of them converging on us, and we’re crying and babbling and laughing and big messes, because we’ve graduated. We’ve graduated!

We made it and it’s wonderful and it’s the end of everything.

“You didn’t tell me about the whole surprise,” I say to Katherine.

“It would not have been a surprise, Addie,” she says.

“How the hell am I supposed to do this without you?” I say, pushing my face into Nevaeh’s neck.

“You won’t ever have to,” Katherine says. “We’re in this for life.”

“We’ll strip at your wedding,” Taylor says.

“If you don’t outlive me, I’ll strip at your funerals,” I tell them.

“I will follow you to the end, my siblings, my co-captains—” Nevaeh sings out.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I say, taking their hands, dragging them to dance in circles in the sunshine like goofy new graduates who know they have absolutely everything in front of them. “Let’s all go get famous!”

THE END

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS