They Never Saved Me A Seat So I Built My Own Table Chapter 02
The day we took graduation photos, the air on the lawn was thick and hot.
I had just pulled on my gown when I saw Bruno walking over, juggling four bouquets.
Matteo’s was sunflowers.
Nico’s was white roses.
Bianca’s was pink tulips.
And Bruno kept a bouquet of baby’s breath for himself to hold in the photos.
I lowered my eyes to my own hands.
Empty. Again.
Bruno followed my gaze, and the smile on his face faltered.
“The flower shop was having a deal on four bouquets.”
“I was going to buy one just for you, but I got busy and forgot.”
As he spoke, he spotted a small cluster of gardenias blooming by the path, snapped one off, and handed it to me.
He’d broken the stem in such a hurry that the petals were already starting to wilt.
“Here,” he said. “Don’t you like gardenias?”
A few of our classmates glanced over.
Not wanting to make a scene before the ceremony, I took it.
Bruno let out a breath of relief.
“See? Problem solved.”
When we lined up for the group photos, Bianca stood in the middle.
Matteo adjusted her mortarboard.
Nico tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Bruno crouched down to smooth the hem of her gown where the wind had kicked it up.
I stood off to the side, feeling like a stranger photoshopped in at the last second.
“Scoot in closer!” the photographer called out.
I had only taken half a step toward Bruno when someone bumped Bianca from behind.
On instinct, Bruno reached out and steadied her.
The shutter clicked at that exact moment.
In the photo, the four of them were pressed tightly together.
I was the only one standing half a step away.
After the pictures, Matteo pulled four graduation teddy bears from a bag.
Each one wore a tiny gown for its owner’s major, with a name embroidered across the chest in gold thread.
Bianca’s eyes lit up.
“When did you get these?”
“I ordered them on Etsy a month ago,” Matteo said with a smile, handing her one.
“You said you wanted one because everyone else had one, right?”
I looked at the empty bag in his hand.
“Where’s mine?”
The words sounded ugly as soon as they left my mouth.
Matteo frowned.
“You never put the full name of your major in the group chat when I asked.”
“You’re my brother. Do you really need me to post my major in a group chat for you to know what it is?”
He had no answer.
Nico spoke up from the side. “The seller isn’t taking new custom orders.”
“Besides, Alessia, you’ve never liked stuffed animals. Even if we got you one, it would just collect dust.”
It was always like this.
If they hadn’t gotten me something, it was because I didn’t like it.
If they hadn’t asked me, it was because I hadn’t told them.
They could always find a reason to make it my fault.
That afternoon, the department unveiled the graduation memory wall.
Nico had been in charge of collecting the photos.
In the most prominent spot, I saw a large title.
*Four Years of College for Five People.*
But beneath the title was only a group photo of the four of them, standing under a canopy of cherry blossoms.
One of our classmates recognized me and asked, confused, “Alessia, aren’t you guys all best friends?”
“How come you’re not up there?”
Bianca nervously twisted the hem of her dress.
Nico spoke first. “Alessia doesn’t like having her picture taken.”
Matteo added casually, “She skips group stuff all the time.”
I stared at them, speechless.
I don’t like photos?
For four years, I was the one taking pictures at every dinner, every birthday, every trip.
Because they always said I took the best ones.
My phone was filled with photos of them, from freshman year to graduation.
But there were almost no photos of me.
It wasn’t that I didn’t participate.
It was that the person who always stood behind the camera was never remembered by any of them.
That night in my dorm, I took off the bracelet I wore on my wrist.
Bruno’s initials were engraved on the inside.
I’d worn it for three years, long enough for it to leave a faint white mark on my skin.
I placed it in the very back of my drawer.
The second I shut it, a text from Bruno came through.
[Still mad about the flowers?]
[I got you a gardenia, didn’t I? Don’t make a thing out of one bouquet.]
I stared at the screen for a long time before finally typing two words back.
[I’m not.]
After I sent it, I turned my phone face down on the desk and didn’t look at it again.