“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” I said, wiping her cheeks with the back of my hand. It just slipped out of my mouth.
“Jeez. My eyes will look puffy now in the pictures,” Yana said, trying to compose herself amid the sniffing.
“Let’s look for the others.” I gave her an apologetic smile and took her hand.
We found Tessa huddled with our classmates onstage, taking a group picture with Sir Bruno, our homeroom teacher. It was getting hot with the lights directed at us, not to mention the swarm of people in the auditorium. I couldn’t tell if they were crying or laughing. We were all having our own moments, trying to capture them before the night came to an end. I felt my eyes sting, and I knew then it was useless to hold back. I’m just like them, I thought. At some point we’re all the same, and I realized there’s no shame in crying in front of everyone–with everyone.
