2019

"Did you know?"

"Yes," I answered truthfully. Giving Keali'i anything but the truth would have been foolish, nor was it of any interest to me. If there was one thing I knew we could always count on each other for, it was pure honesty when everyone else would likely give us something else, whether it was for a good reason or bad.

"For how long?"

I stared up at him. "Does it matter?"

"Yes." After a second thought, "No. Maybe not. I don't know."

"She told you how long it's been since she took the test, right?"

He nodded.

"That long."

"That long?" He sucked in a breath. "Dang."

"It hasn't been that long."

Keali'i scoffed. "Longer than I've known."

"I bought her the tests, Keali'i."

"And the Sunny D?"

"Does she still have those in her room?"

"Yeah."

"I'll throw them out when I head back."

"It's okay," he brushed me off as he sat next to me on the beach. "I already tossed them."

It had taken Kanani almost a week to tell Keali'i about the pregnancy test.

What I found so interesting was how we could spend our entire lives knowing someone—their deepest secrets, their darkest fears, what gave them glimmers of hope, and what made them weep with despair—and yet one single moment could change our perception of them entirely.

Growing up, my gaze upon my older sister had been viewed through a middle child's lens. She irritated me beyond belief while she battled being a third parent and trying to remain a child. I had responsibilities while she had duties that were always expected of her. They weren't always fair, and neither had I been. I blamed her often for my frustrations with the world; maybe because I had always believed she held the world in her hands and therefore was the orchestrator of my inexplicable demise. Sometimes the feelings lingered. Sometimes they went away when I realized how foolish I was being. But she was always just... my sister.

When she walked out of the bathroom last week, the evening when I had come back from Nikau's apartment, after chugging more Sunny D than any one person ever needed in one lifetime, I saw something shift in her. A realization that her life was about to change drastically and she wasn't sure if she was ready for it. She looked up with those two red lines flashing at me from her drooped hand and looked more like herself than she ever had before—ready to take on the world.

From that point, it was just a matter of letting Keali'i know.

Within three days, she decided to keep it. But she was still grappling with what to tell Keali'i and how to tell him the entire time, so that resolution had shifted her way of thinking.

Keali'i's face was mostly unreadable. I couldn't tell whether he was on the verge of breaking down or simply taking it all in. Worse yet, I had no idea what transpired in the house upon Kanani's unexpected revelation. The only good sign I took was that I didn't hear any yelling. But that still wasn't a confirmation it went well. I clung to that tiny sliver of hope that lingered between each breath.

"Might help to say something," I suggested. "Anything, really."

I was in no position whatsoever to pressure someone into speaking up, but Keali'i and I had known each other for long enough, seen each other through the best and worst of times, to not expect otherwise.

Instead of giving me a verbal response, he pressed his face into the palm of his hands and kept it there, each and every breath louder with the wall erected in front of him. For a few more seconds, I let him continue to take it all in before scooting closer and wrapping one arm around his shoulder. While I wasn't the most physically affectionate person out there most days, Keali'i was a lot like my sister in that regard, always finding a way to touch someone. A hand on their shoulder, a hug for good luck. That was how they communicated without words.

"I just... wasn't expecting that at all when she asked me to come over today."

"What's going through your head right now?"

"Um..." He paused. Lowered his hands into the sand. "I'm... scared. Kind of."

"Understandable."

"And I don't know if I'm ready for this."

"Also understandable," I said. "But, to be fair, I don't think most people ever are."

"I know." He dragged his fingers around the sand like he was trying to draw something. "You know, your sister was so calm. I thought it was someone else I was talking to for a second."

I laughed. "Sitting with that for a few days can do that to you."

"This is... nuts." Beat by beat, Keali'i seemed to gain his composure again. It wasn't lost on me that he kept looking out at the water. I liked to imagine, beyond his own thoughts and emotions, that he was wondering what my dad might have said. Despite the predisposition most had toward someone of my father's stature, I was sure he would have been the best person to have by their side through all of this. He had a thing for always knowing exactly what to say. "I think I need some time to wrap my head around it."

Yet another sentiment I found understandable. But while I didn't expect him to up and leave without warning, I was also concerned about what he might have said to my sister. She had been doing well so far, better than I think any of us could have expected, but she was also in this with him. So while it was ultimately her choice what she did with her body, what he wanted mattered to her. It would affect their relationship in the long run no matter what.

"That's fine," I told him, even though he didn't need to hear it from me. Considering he walked out here and sat down next to me, though, I assumed my words meant something to him. "What did you tell Kanani?"

"Just that," he answered. "That I need some time."

"Anything else?"

He shook his head.

"Okay, well." I dusted my hands off on my legs and stood up. He accepted my outstretched hand and rose to his feet in front of me. "However long you need, I'll be here. And she'll be okay with whatever choice you make. Just be honest with her, yeah?"

"Yeah. Yes. Thank you."

...

Life had a way of working out, even when it didn't seem like it.

By the time Leimomi's graduation rolled around, Keali'i had not only accepted his future, he was also more than onboard for everything in store for him and Kanani. It wasn't easy getting there and the road ahead wasn't going to be straight and smooth, but they were ready to cross it together.

Even the way they moved was different now. It was like being away from each other was physically painful. Whenever they walked somewhere, they held hands. Whenever they sat down at the kitchen table, they faced each other, legs tapping the other's and hands reaching together whenever they weren't actively eating.

I felt terrible for thinking it because what happened to them had nothing to do with me, but every time I looked at them, I couldn't help but think about myself. Specifically, whether I would ever find my person like Kanani had. They fit together like a puzzle nobody else had a chance of figuring out. Two individuals that were whole on their own but became an even greater entity when they were together.

I liked being alone. I was good at being alone, for the most part. That didn't mean there wasn't some part of me that wondered what it would be like to not be alone anymore.

Since I didn't have my own graduation, I had nothing to compare this one to except Kanani's.

Being that it wasn't our family's first graduation and we all went to the same high school, it wasn't an entirely new experience. Walking back onto campus once I had left meant it felt like catching up with an old friend. Except this wasn't a friend with whom I had many fond memories, so I was stuck at an awkward class reunion instead of trading small talk in a grocery store.

One of the silver linings was that the Rivera family showed up to support Leimomi. And Anthony being Anthony meant he brought along Nikau for the ride.

Guest aside, my face lit up as soon as I saw Uncle Akamu pull up behind his two children. He had a slightly more unevenness to his step and more wrinkles around his eyes than before, but he was undoubtedly the Uncle Akamu I had always known and loved, and he looked far happier than I had seen him in a while.

After catapulting myself into his arms, he caught me with a deep laugh and rubbed my back comfortingly like my father used to. It was the only kind of hug a father could give. I still recognized that after all these years.

"Hey, Hoku," he said as he lowered me back onto the ground. It wasn't that far but he was still a few inches taller than me. "Were you always this tall?"

"Mom had a rough labor."

My mom rolled her eyes, smile still shining dimly like a lighthouse midday, and took her turn. "A'ole."

The two of them embraced tighter than Uncle and I had. They spoke a similar language through their shared experiences that none of the rest of us could understand. Watching them for that blip in time, I felt like an intruder, but I couldn't tear my eyes away.

"Hey, sis," Uncle Akamua said before kissing her forehead. "Everything good?"

"It's good," she answered before repeating it just to make sure it stuck the landing. "We're good. You?"

"We're aurite." His response was a little more believable. "Can't believe the little rascal is graduating already."

"Don't you feel old?" My mom asked.

He paused his steps and smiled down at her. "Not at all."

Even though Leimomi had a bigger group waiting for her at the end of her diploma acceptance, it was hard to ignore the glaring hole in our group where our father should have been. While my graduation ceremony wouldn't have been any different if I had graduated since Dad had already passed away by the time it would have happened, it was also easier to imagine a perfect version of that alternate dimension. I would know as I had dreamt of it more times than I could count. I dreamt of wearing my blue robes with a gold tassel hanging from the side of my cap. I dreamt of seeing my mother and father in the crowd with a blown-up picture of my face swaying above them as they waved the sign excitedly. I dreamt of throwing myself into his arms as we ran across the field toward each other, him muttering into my ear about how proud he was of me.

I didn't believe in coincidences unless I could use them as a personal excuse, which meant I elected to ignore the way Nikau ended up sitting next to each other. Mom sat on my other side with Kanani and Keali'i rounding out our end of the line. The Riveras were all lined up on the opposite end. We had a perfectly even number; no center of our universe to keep us steady anymore.

This graduation ceremony seemed to move by a little more quickly than the last. I wasn't sure if I was paying more or less attention to everything going on, but I felt less like a robot going through the motions of clapping and smiling and cheering like last time. Maybe Nikau keeping up a conversation throughout made it easier. His distraction made it easier not to think about how often I wondered if my family secretly thought of me as a failure for not even doing something as simple as graduating high school. His voice let me forget about the jealous tinge in my chest for my sister who was seven years younger than me with a pocketful of plans for her future that I had never been able to aspire to do myself.

By the time graduation caps flew into the air like scattering bits of popcorn, I was already halfway down the steps and became one of the first attendees on the field.

I raced across the sea of green in search of my sister and found her just after she excitedly extracted her lips from Micah's. Our eyes latched onto each other, and before I knew it, we were two magnetic forces being pulled together. There was a difference in the way I saw her versus Kanani at her graduation. With the latter, there was a sense of adoration and pride. A younger sister looking up at her older sister through and through. With Leimomi, I felt a protectiveness take over me. Though she would remember this monumental life experience as something our father would not be here to share in, she would still be happy and proud of herself. I had to make sure of it.

She jumped into my arms and crushed herself against my chest as I spun us around with her legs around my waist. If there was a way to bottle up this moment, this feeling, forever, I would save it for all of those rainy days when I forgot just how bright the sun would shine. Although I often felt like an anchor sinking to the bottom of an ocean that didn't end, Leimomi was a living heartbeat personified. She was the bright, innocent future I wanted for all of us.

I ran my hand down the back of her hair and felt her smile into my neck. "I love you," she said. "I know you don't think you are but thank you for being here anytime I need you. I wouldn't be here without you."

"I love you," I repeated back to her. "Papa would be so proud of you."

Over Leimomi's shoulder, I met Nikau's gaze as he held the lei I was going to give to her after I finally found a way to let her go. At some point, they would both leave. And I learned to live with the emptiness that dug itself into my heart even before they did.