ELOISE
The morning sun hit the football field, bouncing blindingly off the rows of white plastic chairs and the sea of deep crimson graduation gowns.
A month had passed since the night in Mike’s room—a month of silent, high-voltage glances in the hallways, of stolen midnight hours in the dark study, and of watching the school's hostility slowly freeze into a distant, irrelevant hum. The scandal of the poem had faded, replaced by the crushing, inevitable reality that our time at Oakridge High was down to its final hours.
"Please welcome your Class Valedictorian, Eloise Gilbert."
The principal's voice echoed through the stadium speakers. My heart did a sudden, violent thud against my ribs. I smoothed down the front of my crimson gown, adjusted the heavy gold honor stole around my ne
