out the window, not answering.
“Hi, Mr. Talley. This is Ria Williams. Cotton is fine. He’s here with me. We’ll be at the ceremony soon.”
“You will?” Maybe his father was used to Cotton’s surprises because he said, “Um, okay. Right. We’ll see you there.”
Cotton had been right. They hadn’t yet realized he wasn’t there. Now they wouldn’t have to.
“I don’t care about the award. I would have done the work anyway. I don’t need a certificate.”
“I like winning,” she said. “When I first started diving, having those medals hanging around my neck was the best feeling. I’d wear them all day. I loved the sound when they clanged against each other. I was so obnoxious.”
“That’s different,” said Cotton.
“Exactly. Your award matters. My medals were stupid. How is diving going to make the world better?”
The Travis Center was enormous. White marble steps led to a front wall made of glass and steel. Beside her, Cotton walked slowly, his shiny black dress shoes clicking against the tile floor. Ria wished she’d thought to change her clothes. Her leggings and T-shirt seemed rude next to him. Except, he also looked wilted.
“When you go on stage to get your award, you need to stand up straight,” she said. “Push your chest out and throw your shoulders back.”
“Like this?”
“Yes. It makes you look confident.” She smiled.
From across the enormous lobby, Mrs. Talley called out, “Cotton! There you are! You need to be sitting with the other winners.” Then, barely pausing, she smiled at Ria. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Me neither.”
“You should have told us you made other plans,” his mother said, hustling them down the hallway.
“I didn’t,” said Cotton.
“I know you didn’t. But you should have.” Her voice was calm but firm. “Take your seat, Cotton. We’ll find you afterward.”
As he headed toward the front row, Mrs. Talley said, “Sit with us, Ria. We’ll squish in.”
Once they reached the row of Talleys, bodies shifted. Jelly moved to sit on her father’s lap and Ria sat between Bo and Flutie. The lights dimmed as she leaned back in her seat.
It was clear this was a ceremony for the smartest teens in Virginia. Over and over again, names were called, accomplishments were explained and reveled in. Ria’s hands stung from all the clapping. A thin, serious-looking boy had attended a world peace summit in France. One girl sold a novel to a major publisher. A group of teens created a daycare for homeless children. Other awards were for things she didn’t know existed. Experiments with something rhyming with ooze. Articles on mono-something-or-others. She wondered how much actual at-the-desk-time was spent working on the math equation that took three months to complete—it’s not like the girl skipped every other bit of life, was it? Ria could probably drag out any of her assignments that long too, but she wasn’t going to be rewarded for it.
Finally, when Cotton’s name was called, she willed him to throw his shoulders back. It must have worked because on the stage, he stood straight, towering over the man at the microphone.
“We are pleased to award the Rotary scholarship for achievement in the area of cartography to Connor Talley.”
All around her, his family exploded into applause and cheers. Relief flowed through her that Cotton was here. She was grateful there wouldn’t be a wave of sadness wrapped up in this moment.
After the ceremony, the families and guests milled around the lobby, sharing congratulations while eating cookies and drinking punch. Ria stood to the side as the Talleys surrounded Cotton. More people gathered to celebrate his brilliance.
She felt out of place now. She wasn’t meant to be part of this moment.
He looked at her suddenly, from a few feet away. She smiled, gave him a double thumbs-up, then felt goofy. She held up her keys and pointed at the door. He started to head toward her, but his mother grabbed his arm, leading him toward a group of grown-ups.
The air was cool outside, the moon high above in the stunning sky. So beautiful in its enormity and never-endingness. She either felt exhausted or invigorated. She climbed into her car, started it up. Waited for the defroster to do its job. A knock on her window startled her.
“Diving does matter,” Cotton said through the rolled-down window. “It’s brave. And beautiful. It lets everyone know that the unexpected is possible.”
Damn, she liked him.
“Why aren’t you celebrating?”
“I am.”
Feeling him looking at her, seeing her, wanting to be with her, filled Ria with a zip of something an awful