For What It's Worth

June 20th 2009 marked one of the best days in my life. After two long years of late night study sessions and coffee runs, I was finally graduating from NYU with my Masters in the History of Art and Conservation. Yes, you read correctly, I’m a certified nerd, and I’ve got the diploma and an empty bank account to prove it. Not that I’d have it any other way though. My father teaches ancient history at the University of Saskatchewan, so my knack for academia comes genetically, though it’s something that neither of my two sisters inherited. While they were busy painting their nails and flirting with boys, I had my nose in a book, studying hard so that I might one day join my father. To say that I'm a daddy’s girl would be a complete understatement. I simply adore him. When I was little, he used to set up fake dig sites in our back yard so that I could pretend I was an archaeologist and then he’d sit with me on his knee, analyzing every bit of spare tire, tin can, or rock that I dug up. And while my sisters were told bedtime stories about a Princess and her Prince Charming, I got ancient tales and myths from forgotten lands. Sometimes there was a warrior or a princess too, but it’s just not quite the same thing as Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty because there was usually blood involved. I wouldn’t say I was a tom boy, but Barbies and makeovers didn’t interest me, much to my mother’s dismay.

I guess you’ve figured out that I don’t really fit into my family all that well. It’s the truth. I’m the apple of my father’s eye, but my mother and sisters are more interested in shopping, babies, and marrying rich, than in academic achievement or careers. It’s not that they aren’t proud of me, it’s just that currently, my oldest sister’s engagement is more important than some silly piece of paper with my name on it. But then there’s always a reason. That’s where Brooks comes in. He’s been my best friend since the age of six, and even then, he was a stud. Like every other girl in Saskatchewan, there was a time in high school when I was completely and utterly in love with him, and when he moved away for junior hockey, I nearly died. But I never told him how I felt, I got over it, and today, he’s still my best friend in the entire world. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had told him how I felt all that time ago, but then I think about how different things would be between us. Our late night phone calls would be about whether or not he was cheating on me instead of whether superman or batman was better. And I’d also have to share him with the little bunnies that follow him everywhere. I still do, but it’s different when they hear you’re the best friend. They just ignore me, which to be honest, is fine with me. I’m quiet, I wear glasses, and I would rather be in a library than gossiping at the salon. They’d chew me up and spit me back out in front of him. So being the best friend, well it works just fine for me right now.

Somehow, as I sat onstage in my graduation robes searching for my favorite auburn-haired boy, all of these thoughts came flooding through my head. I’d been up late the night before preparing for my sister’s engagement party, which was being held on the evening of my convocation. Coincidence? No. They just forgot on account of one future apparently being more important than the other. I know what you’re thinking too and the answer is yes. Why not have an engagement party when you’re in New York City? What could be more glamorous? After a few minutes of searching, I couldn’t find them anywhere, so I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Brooks.

“Where are you sitting?”

“Under the third projection screen, five seats in love.” He always called me that, but I never really knew why.

I found them quickly. Brooks was laughing, probably from watching me count seats with my finger. My father was tearing up with pride, and my sisters, well, one of them was on her cell phone and the other was making eyes at Brooks. I giggled as he ignored her and continued to wave in my direction. I won’t go into a ton of detail about the ceremony because the only part you need to know is that Brooks nearly made me burst with laughter during the chancellor’s address because he kept making faces at me. Oh, and that my father couldn’t stop crying. I hate to say it because I’m not sure what it says about me as a person, but I love that he was so proud of me. So when I found them after the ceremony, the first thing he did was snap my picture and then crush me with one of his legendary bear hugs.

“Dad! I love you but you’re squishing me!” I laughed, adjusting my hat as he let go. Not to be out done, Brooks grabbed on to me before I could finish straightening out my robes, crushing me again with his strong arms.

“I’m so proud of you Julianna” he whispered in my ear. That was all I needed to hear. He let go with a wink, taking my hand in his as we began to walk towards the reception tent with my father.

“Um, where are mom and the girls?” I asked quietly, knowing that they probably had some ridiculous excuse for being absent. Apparently there was some silly reason because I caught the look of hesitation that flashed between my father and Brooks.

“Love, I’m sorry. They’ve left. Something about needing to be at the hotel to meet the decorator,” my father said as he stoked my hair.

“Oh.” That was all I could muster up.

“I’m so sorry sweet pea. I tried, I really did.”

“I know you did. It’s ok Daddy” I said, trying to hide the tears that I had promised myself wouldn’t fall.

I looked at Brooks, who was so livid he could barely speak. My father put a reaffirming hand on his shoulder to calm him down before excusing himself to speak with an old friend. He knew that if anyone could make me feel better, it would be Brooks.

But as soon as he left, the tears started to fall faster. I hated crying about things like this in front of my father because I didn’t want him to feel guilty. So I held back until he was gone and Brooks was around to pick up the pieces.

“They didn’t even say congratulations,” I said softly as he drew me into another hug and kissed the top of my head.

“I know sweetie. You’ve worked so hard and you don’t deserve any of this.” He was starting to get mad.

“Whatever” I said suddenly pulling away from him as he tried to wipe the tears from my face. God, I was so embarrassed. I tried to walk away, but he wouldn’t let me. He just held my hand as we waited for my father to return, telling me the story of how Alex Ovechkin nearly got run over while riding the bumper cars at a fair. Apparently he didn’t realize that you’re supposed to stay in the car. I couldn’t help but laugh as he told the story, complete with sound effects and all. By the time we found my Dad, I was in better spirits, thanks to Brooks.

“I almost forgot! I have a surprise for you!” he said with a sly smirk on his face. He always liked to tempt me because he knew that I was terrible at waiting for surprises.

“Tell me please! I’ll cry again!” I threatened. He only laughed as he walked me to his rental car and opened the back door for me to climb in. As I did, he bent down so that his face was level with mine.

“You really want to know?” I shook my head yes.

“Are you really, really sure?”

“Yes” I said hopefully. Brooks’ surprises were always the best.

“No!” he said with a hearty laugh before pecking my cheek and closing the door in my face. I sat there with my mouth hanging open. Well that was cheeky! As he climbed into the driver’s seat of our rental, he exchanged a mischievous look with my dad. Oh God. I’m a hostage. They were up to something alright, and knowing Brooks, it could be just about anything.