Chapter Six — What We Deserve
Monday, May 26, 2014
Memorial Day made Brooklyn feel different.
Not quieter exactly. Just slower.
Flags hung from stoops. Music drifted through open windows. Grills smoked along sidewalks while families claimed patches of pavement like they had reservations.
For once, Maine wasn't thinking about school.
He was thinking about graduation.
He sat on the couch with his phone in one hand, scrolling through messages from Rome and Monique when a notification caught his attention.
DU BOIS PREP CLASS OF 2014 GRADUATION CEREMONY TO BE HELD AT BARCLAYS CENTER.
Maine sat up.
"No way."
He opened the announcement.
Barclays Center.
Three o'clock.
Saturday, June 7.
He read it twice.
Then a third time.
His phone immediately started buzzing.
Rome:
BRO.
Another message.
Rome:
BARCLAYS???
Maine laughed.
He called.
Rome answered almost immediately.
"Tell me you saw that."
"I just saw it."
"Bro, we really graduating at Barclays."
"I guess we are."
"I thought they were gonna have us packed into the school gym."
"So did I."
Monique joined the call a second later.
"You two sound surprised."
Maine smiled.
"You knew?"
There was the slightest pause.
"I knew there were plans."
Rome narrowed his eyes through the screen.
"Plans?"
"That's all you're getting."
"Monique."
"Nope."
Maine laughed.
"You're terrible at keeping secrets."
"Actually," she said, "I'm pretty good at it."
She was.
Especially this one.
Monique had known for weeks that Nasir had been working behind the scenes to make the ceremony happen at Barclays. She had known because, as Student Body President, she had been involved in enough of the graduation planning to understand that the arena didn't simply become available because somebody asked nicely.
She also knew Maine's father wanted the surprise to stay a surprise.
So she had kept her mouth shut.
Even from Maine.
"Anyway," Monique said, "I'll see you both soon."
"Where you going?"
"Working on something."
Rome groaned.
"Those caps?"
"Maybe."
"Monique, if you made mine ugly—"
She ended the call.
Maine laughed so hard he had to put his phone down.
A few minutes later, he found Nasir in the kitchen.
His father stood by the counter with a mug of coffee, scrolling through his own phone.
Maine held his up.
"You knew about Barclays?"
Nasir looked at the screen.
Then at him.
"I heard something about it."
"You're lying."
Nasir smiled.
"That's a strong accusation for eleven in the morning."
"Dad."
Nasir took another sip.
"It's your graduation. Enjoy it."
Maine studied him.
"You got something to do with this?"
Nasir didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
Maine shook his head.
"You really did."
"I didn't say that."
"You don't have to."
Nasir laughed softly.
Maine leaned against the counter.
"Everybody thinks I got you to do it."
Nasir looked over.
"Who?"
"People at school. Everybody's acting like I asked you and you pulled some strings."
"Did you?"
"No."
"You mentioned graduation."
"Yeah."
"That isn't the same thing."
Maine looked at him.
Nasir set his mug down.
"Your whole class made it through four years. They worked for this. They deserve a real celebration."
Maine nodded slowly.
"So you did it for everybody."
"Exactly."
There was no politician's speech in his voice.
No grand explanation.
Just a father telling his son the truth.
"You don't get to take credit for something you didn't do," Nasir added.
Maine laughed.
"Damn."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Nasir picked up his mug again.
"Let them have their day."
Maine looked back at the announcement on his phone.
For a second, the arena felt bigger than a building.
It felt like proof.
Proof that the years behind them had actually led somewhere.
Proof that all those mornings waking up early, all those tests, arguments, practices, late nights, and ordinary school days had become something worth celebrating.
And somehow, his father had seen that before he did.
Later that afternoon, Maine met Rome outside.
They walked through Fort Greene with nothing important to do and nowhere they needed to be.
Exactly how a holiday was supposed to feel.
Rome kept talking about graduation like he was already famous.
"You know Barclays got big screens, right?"
"Probably."
"They better put me on one."
"They're gonna put your ass on a screen for everybody to see?"
"Absolutely."
Maine laughed.
"Why?"
"Because I'm handsome."
"You look like Kirby."
Rome stopped walking.
"You've been waiting to say that."
"Since breakfast."
Rome shook his head.
"Jealous."
"Of what?"
"My greatness."
Maine shoved his shoulder.
Rome shoved him back.
For a few seconds, they were kids again.
Then Rome looked ahead.
"You realize this is really it, right?"
Maine didn't answer.
Rome continued.
"No more school."
"I know."
"College next."
"Yeah."
"Summer."
Maine smiled.
"Yeah."
The word felt different now.
Summer wasn't just another break.
It was the space between who they had been and whoever they were about to become.
Across the street, Brooklyn carried on around them.
People grilled.
Kids played.
Cars rolled past.
Somebody's music rattled a nearby window.
Nothing had changed.
Everything had changed.
Maine looked toward the skyline.
Barclays was waiting six days away.
Graduation was waiting.
The future was waiting.
And for the first time, he wasn't sure whether he wanted it to hurry up or slow down.
Behind him, Rome called his name.
Maine turned.
"What's up?"
"Race you to the corner."
Maine laughed.
"You're stupid."
"You scared."
"Hell no."
They took off.
For that moment, there was no future to figure out.
No past to explain.
Just two nineteen-year-olds running down a Brooklyn sidewalk on Memorial Day, laughing like they had nowhere else to be.
Inside the Connors home, Nasir stood by the window and watched them disappear around the corner.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
He looked at the screen.
The smile left his face.
He answered.
"Yeah."
A pause.
"I understand."
Another pause.
Nasir glanced toward the street.
"Not tonight."
He ended the call.
For a moment, he remained by the window.
Then he slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Outside, Brooklyn kept moving.
And six days from now, his son would walk across a stage at Barclays Center.
Nasir intended to be there when he did.