The Art of Breathing (The Seafare Chronicles 3)

All we do is breathe.

2. Where Tyson Makes a Phone Call

A few weeks later

“HEY, DOM. What are you—What? Ha! Shut up. I do not! I’m not worried at all. Everyone’s gonna love my speech. They will too! You’ll just have to wait and see. I’m not going to tell you yet. Because you have to be surprised! Hey, can I ask you a question? Oh, what? She does? Oh. Well, tell Stacey I say hi back. What? Nothing’s wrong. I am telling you the truth! Don’t tell me what I am—What question? Oh yeah. It’s not important. Don’t worry about it. Ah, God, you’re so annoying. Fine. I was just going to ask you if you’d come visit me when I was away at school. It’s not that big of a deal. You will? Really? You won’t… never mind. That’s dumb. Jesus! You won’t forget about me or anything? What? You’ll think about me every day? Wow. No. I’m not going to say it. Just Otter. I’m not going to say it! Ugh! Fine. Friends until we’re old and gray, beginning to end, day after day. I was nine when I first said that! Whatever. My poetry skills rock. Is it okay if I ride with you to the graduation? Cool. Is Stacey going to be there? Maybe she could take her own car, and we could—yeah? Cool. Alright. Just come over. I know. I know you’re proud of me. I know. Yeah. I’m going to miss you so—What? Stacey says you gotta go? Okay. Yeah. Love you too.”

3. Where Tyson Graduates and Bear Freaks Out

I LOOK at the crowd spread out before me, knowing I just have one last paragraph to get through. I shouldn’t have looked up, but I did, and now I don’t know if I can finish, because there are hundreds of pairs of eyes staring back at me as if everyone is hanging on

my every word. And maybe they are. My valedictorian speech isn’t too shabby. At least, I don’t think it is. It isn’t up in the pantheon with the Gettysburg Address or the “I Have a Dream” speech, but it’s pretty close. Kind of. Okay, not really at all, but it took me just an hour to write, so I’m not too concerned. Well, except for the ending part that’s about to happen. Bear’s going to freak. Like, seriously meltdown freak-out. Maybe I should leave that part out. Maybe I’m not ready.

Ugh.

I still shouldn’t have looked up, though.

Jesus Christ. At least we know my future isn’t in public speaking. Even my balls are sweaty. Gross. It’s not helping that there are news cameras trained on me from as far away as Washington. I can see the headlines already: MUTANT FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD CAUSES HAVOC WITH SPEECH; OLDER BROTHER GOES ON RAMPAGE.

I feel a low level of panic coming on. It starts in my toes and tingles up through my legs, and just when I think it’s going to consume me, I find them. I find them all.

Creed, Anna, and JJ. Alice and Jerry Thompson. Erica and Georgia. Eddie. Anna’s parents, Stephanie and Ian Grant. Otter consoling Bear, who has tears streaming down his face. How embarrassing, even if it does cause a bit of a hitch in my own chest. Stacey, glancing over at my brother like she’s amused.

Him. Then there’s him. There’s always him. He’s watching me and our gazes lock and everything stops. For just a moment, everything else is gone and it’s like I’m speaking to him and only him. He nods at me, like he knows what I’m thinking, like he knows I’m scared. He probably does know. It’s who he is. It’s who we are. I know I’m doing this for myself, but I’m also doing it for him.

“The world is changing,” I say, my voice the strongest it’s been since I started speaking ten minutes ago. “Every day the world is changing. Sometimes, though, it’s not for the better. Sometimes it seems as if we’re taking two steps back for every one step forward. Some of us are still being told we aren’t good enough because of the color of our skin. Because of our socioeconomic background. Because of how we were raised.” I hesitate, but it’s now or never. “Or because of who we choose to love. I encourage you… no, I beg you to go out there and make the world a better place. Make it something we can look back and be proud of. That we can say at this moment, we made the decision to be the catalyst for change, that we rose up past every single prejudice facing us and held our heads high. My name is Tyson James Thompson. I am graduating at the age of fifteen years old as your valedictorian. I come from an unconventional family made of up bits and parts to create a whole that I wouldn’t change for anything in the world. And I am proud to say that I’m gay.”

The crowd starts to murmur as the news cameras all pan back to me quickly.

Dom’s eyes widen and his jaw drops. As a matter of fact, my whole family looks like I’ve just stripped on stage and started shaking my groove thang for everyone to see. Well, everyone except Otter. He already knew; though I don’t think he saw this coming.

Bear, though?

I think Bear might have just shit himself. Literally.

Yikes. And gross.

And over the rustling of the crowd, I finish: “Change starts with us. It starts now. And I challenge all of you to make a difference. Do it before it’s too late. Do it before it won’t matter anymore. Do it, so that one day, we can look back and say our generation was the one that cared for all others with open arms, that we discovered the key to no more hate was not a matter of politics or war, but a matter of acceptance. Thank you, and congratulations to you all.”

I step down off the pedestal into shocked silence.

And then, much to my surprise, the crowd roars in approval.

I am stunned when they get to their feet.

I am near tears when they stomp their feet and shout my name.

I leave the stage.

And, thirty minutes later, my name is called so I must return.

“Tyson James Thompson.”

The audience is loud again, but none more so than my family. All of them, every single one, are on their feet, screeching and howling and screaming. Creed pounds his chest and bellows my name. Otter has that crooked grin on display and is shouting something I can’t quite make out. Bear is tucked in at his side, still looking shell-shocked, but his lips are moving, even though I can’t hear him at all.

Dom, though? Dom is smiling, his eyes suspiciously bright. I am handed my diploma, and I smile for the flash of the camera as I shake the superintendent’s hand. As the flash dies, I see Dom wipe the back of his hand across his eyes. I’m going to give him so much shit later for that, the big softie.

Well, if I don’t get murdered first for outing myself to the graduating class of Seafare High. Probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. I probably should have thought it through a little better, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Make all of the haters out there see that a tiny little fifteen-year-old smartass could cause a sort of chaos. Interesting reaction, though. I was expecting to have rotten fruit thrown at me. People don’t seem to carry that with them anymore to public speeches. Hurray for me.