Chapter Text
“It's weird, I thought it would feel… different than this, you know?”
“I thought it would feel more like the end,” Tom says. “But instead it just feels like a regular day.”
“But with no homework.”
“That's implying I ever did homework anyway.”
The sound of scratching interrupts his friends’ casual conversation as Ben drags a coin across the splintered wooden table, unable to concentrate on anything else. Andy and Tom have been having this same conversation all day, around in circles, as if there's nothing else in the world they can possibly talk about. And Ben gets it— really, he does. It's their graduation day and everyone’s spirits are high and nobody knows how to act, but that doesn't mean he has to participate.
Really, he just doesn't want to think about it. He wants to pretend this actually is a regular school day and there is no graduation to look forward to tonight, because he needs that stability. It's how he copes. That, and scratching lines into the lunch table.
“Ben— are you going to do that all lunch?” Tom snaps, his palm slamming in front of him. It makes Ben jump and nearly drop his coin. “It's annoying, man.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he isn't sorry. Andy and Tom are his two closest friends, but that doesn't mean he has to feel bad. They're definitely annoying him more than he is them. “What were we talking about?”
“Graduation,” Andy adds. “Are you excited?”
Ben shrugs, shoving his coin into his jeans pocket. “I guess. It's kinda hard to think of it as fun, though, with all the work I have to do for it.”
Tom feigns a gag. “God, don't even remind me. I wouldn't have signed up for Student Council if I thought we had to set up our own grad.”
“Student Council has… always had to do that. How did you not know that?”
“I thought that was for the nerdier high up positions like you! Not the cool ones like me!”
Ben can feel the headache forming, and he shoves his annoyance away; this is just Tom being Tom. He’s used to this, he shouldn't get his tension out on him. “You're Treasurer, Tom. I really don't think it gets any nerdier than that.” Ben knows, he was Treasurer his sophomore year, and it was the epitome of nerdy.
Tom smirks, the typical Tom Haverford-smirk, and Ben doesn't even want to know what he's going to say next. “You mean you were a nerdy Treasurer. You were a Numbers Robot, but I get to specialize in stacks on stacks on stacks.”
Andy laughs and high-fives Tom, very easily amused. “Nice one, bro.”
Ben shakes his head, and goes back to picking at his food, trying to hide the tiny smile creeping on his lips, as if his friends can't know he actually likes them. “That's a Jean-Ralphio line if I've ever heard one,” he says, jabbing fruit pieces with his fork. “Is he gonna join us?”
“Are you kidding me? Hell no,” Tom scoffs, and Ben tries to hide his relief at this information. “As if he would come to school at all today. No, he's back at my place, setting up for the party of the year.”
“Dude, I am so excited,” Andy grins, pumping his fist in the air, and as much as Ben wants to hide it, he can't help but be excited too. “I meant to ask, you think I can sneak April in? I know she's just a junior, but—”
Tom waves a hand. “Don't even ask, Dwyer, ya girl’s always welcome at a Haverford-Saperstein party. Think she can get us the good stuff?”
“She's the best plug I know. I saw her use her fake the other week so she could get me a drink after my big game. Dude didn't even bat an eye!”
Figures, really, that April Ludgate is barely seventeen and even she is better at getting alcohol than all her senior friends, but Ben is long past questioning her. It's already a big enough mystery that the scariest girl in the school is dating Andy Dwyer, Pawnee High’s resident golden boy and star quarterback, since the seventh grade. But Ben just shook his head at the pairing when he was thirteen years old and he shakes his head now.
“You're thinking about fifth wheeling again, aren't you, Benji?” Tom asks him, and Ben scrunches his nose up. Maybe he was. Maybe it's kind of annoying to be the fifth wheel through years of friendship, watching Tom and Andy have the time of their lives with their significant others while Ben is in a corner cradling a Miller Lite. Maybe it's kind of upsetting that they're partnering with Jean-Ralphio and April to walk at graduation and Ben? Ben is stuck with…
“He's thinking about You-Know-Who again,” Andy whispers to Tom. “Not Voldemort. But he's thinking about—”
“I'm not thinking about her,” Ben hisses, putting a stop to the conversation before it can even begin. “And I'm not thinking about fifth wheeling, either. Really, I don't mind it. I'm excited for tonight.”
Tom wiggles his brows. “You don't lie very well, Benji. Gonna try and get with a lady tonight? There’ll be plenty there…”
Ben bites his lip, brings his water bottle up to his lips to hide his smile. “Maybe. Who knows?”
“You totally should, man,” Andy nods. “I swear, I haven't seen you with a girl in like… ever. Since Cindy Miller, I think.”
“Ugh, don't bring up Cindy,” Ben sighs. “Miller or Eckert. And that was last year. I've dated since then.”
“Remember when you dated Shauna Malwae-Tweep?” Tom asks, laughing out loud. “If only she was still around, you could've totally boned her at my party.”
“What even happened to Shauna anyway?” Andy asks, scratching the back of his head. “I had English with her and then she stopped coming.”
They both look at Ben, who chokes on his water and holds his hands up. “Don't look at me! I dated her for one month back in sophomore year. She probably just dropped out. Lots of kids are doing that lately.”
“Stupid to drop out a month before graduation,” Tom says. “I mean, might as well stick it out at that point, right? The hardest is over with.”
“Do we have to talk about Shauna?” The last thing he needs is a reminder of all his failed relationships, especially on the night he knows he's going to be a fifth wheel. If he hooks up with any girl tonight, it'll definitely be more out of some kind of self-pitying, graduation-spiral than actual feelings. “Can't we talk about… college, or something?”
“Ugh, you would wanna talk about college on the last day of school, nerd.”
And thank god the bell for the end of lunch rings just then, because as much as Ben loves Tom, he really feels he could strangle him right now. He hoists his backpack up on his shoulder and waves goodbye to the two of them, not exactly looking forward to the next couple classes. With finals over with and no more assignments… it all just ends up being dull.
And it passes in a haze. Ben is barely there as he walks from class to class, going through the motions, pushing himself to do what needs to be done. He’ll have more to focus on the closer they get to graduation, and he’ll be happier when it's all over.
It's not exactly how he imagined his last day of high school would go. But he's bitter, damn it, and no amount of watching cartoons in classes will fix that for him. He's bitter because this was supposed to go right for him, tonight was supposed to be his moment. He was going to finally step up, as Vice President of Student Council, and actually feel like he was doing something worthwhile, something that made him feel on top of the world.
And not only did he lose that opportunity to her… but now he's stuck with her as his walking partner, too. “Because you're Vice President, and she's President, it just makes sense!” Principal Traeger had said when proposed the idea. It might make sense, but it doesn't make Ben any happier about it. It just feels like one more battle lost against her.
“Ow! Can you watch it?”
And now it's just his luck that he literally runs into her in the halls as soon as school gets out.
“I didn’t mean to,” he mumbles, watching her as she stumbles backwards, rubbing her hand against the back of her head. He almost completely knocked her over, and some of her papers are spilling over onto the floor. “Do… do you need some help?”
“Not from you,” Leslie snaps. But as she bends down to pick up her books, the rest of her papers go flying, some completely down the emptying halls. The disaster causes her face to burn bright red, and she releases a groan of frustration, stomping her foot. “God— this is all your fault, Wyatt.”
Ah, there it is. Just the kick he needs. “My fault? I already told you I didn't mean to, I didn't do anything wrong.”
“When don't you? If you hadn't knocked into me—”
“Don't be an ass, Leslie,” he hisses, and her head snaps up so she can glare icy daggers at him. “I'm sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”
“I—” she freezes, half her books laying haphazardly in her arms. “I'm sorry,” she sighs, her shoulders sinking and the tension leaving her. “I'm sorry, it's a tough day. Can you help me, actually?”
He's more than willing to, and he rushes down the hall to chase after the escaping papers. He gathers them against his chest and pushes them into her waiting hands. “Shouldn't you put all this in your backpack? Might help.”
She glares at him again. “I asked for help, not advice.”
He holds his hands up as if in surrender. “Woah there, Madam President, what's up with you today? You haven't been this angry at me in weeks.”
“Why do you care? No, seriously, what's it to you? Four years of hating each other and now you can't handle it? Now you're gonna act like the nice guy?”
“It's not like that, Leslie, you know that—”
“Don't call me that.”
“I— your name?”
She nods stubbornly. “My first name is reserved for friends only, Wyatt.”
His headache flares up again, getting more impatient by the minute. This… this is exactly why he doesn't want to be stuck walking with her at graduation, let alone setting up the entire thing with her. His ideal situation would be going to graduation and pretending she wasn't there at all. “Fine!” he huffs, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine, Knope. If that's how it's gonna be. I was just trying to be nice—”
“Don't play that card. I hate it when you play that card. Being nice worked for a month before you started to resent me for something out of my control.”
“I have a right to my emotions, you know.” He does, he totally does. He is absolutely in the right here and he doesn't care if she's superior, pretentious Student Council President Leslie Knope, Ben has a right to be upset. “You know how much I wanted to do that speech—”
“Shut up, Ben!” she yells, and she stomps her foot again as if she's a child. Her books and her papers are all back in her hands and she stands at her full height as if it might somehow make her more intimidating, as if she isn't tiny and scrappy and soft, as if Ben couldn't pick her up and hoist her over his shoulder with ease. “I didn't take that stupid speech away from you. I'm President, so it makes the most sense that I do. What part of that do you not understand?”
“If I had won President—”
“Well, you didn't.” Her eyes are filled with anger but there's a slight shake in her hands, clutching her books tighter to her chest as if it's the only thing keeping her together. Come to think of it, even her legs are wobbly, as if her knees might give out. And she's pale, like she's getting sick, growing faint. “You beat me enough times in elections over the years, and you have no right to complain. I won President because I deserved it, and I'm going to give the best damn speech out there whether you think I should or not. God, I— you're nothing but a jerk, you know that? You're mean and you're a jerk.”
And any other time Ben might have retaliated with his own insults in turn, sinking to her level, getting lower everyday, but there's something different about now. Maybe it's the way she's trembling, unable to stand still. Maybe it's the way her knuckles are red from holding on so tight. Or maybe it's the way her eyes are wide and wet, as if she's seconds away from bursting into tears.
His anger drops, and his voice softens, and he resists the urge to reach out and touch her. “Hey…” he whispers, and she winces at the sudden change. “Are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick—”
A classroom door opens around the hall, and Leslie jumps, spinning around. “I'm fine,” she insists, but everything about her suggests otherwise. “I'm fine, I'm… I'm super fine.” She pushes past him, checking his shoulder and shoving him back into a locker. “Just leave me alone.”
And then Leslie is gone, quicker than she's ever moved before, leaving Ben to lean against a locker in an attempt to process that encounter.
It has to be because of graduation, right? Leslie is irritating with how much she enjoys school and classwork and seeing her friends everyday, getting along with every one of her teachers, so it makes sense that the end of it all would bring a tear or two to her eyes. He figures it must be confusing, to be her, so excited to work on graduation but also so upset to see it happen. Of course it's enough to make her feel sick.
He shakes his head and pushes the thought away. It's time for their last Student Council meeting, so he’ll see her in a second anyway. And maybe, because it's the last day and he's feeling bad, maybe he’ll try to talk to her again. Work it out with her before they go off to college and all they have left is regret.
Ben sighs and kicks against the lockers. Graduation is turning him sappy.
He walks into the classroom reserved for Student Council meetings and takes a minute to allow himself to be just that— sappy. Student Council has mostly been four years of fighting Leslie Knope until it reaches explosive levels, but even then, he can't say he would trade the experience for anything in the world. It feels good to be a part of something, to be making change in the school, to participate in his first taste of government. And when he goes off to college at the end of the summer to graduate in political science, he's going to be really glad he did this.
He smiles softly at the classroom, at the small student body milling about and laughing together, and he feels a little better. He lets himself relax, roaming over to Tom and slapping his outstretched hand. “Hey man,” he says. “You’re here before me.”
“Because you're late,” Tom laughs. “You've never been late before, until the last day of school?”
Shit, he's late? He hadn't realized how badly the time had gotten away from him until he looks at the clock to see he was supposed to be here five minutes ago. “I ran into Leslie in the hall. You know how that gets.”
“Well, that explains why she's also late.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah, she's not here yet. She's the last one.”
Ben being late is one thing, but Leslie? He doesn't think Leslie's been late for a single thing in his life, let alone a Student Council meeting on graduation day. He pictures her small frame curled on the bathroom floor, puking her guts out. She did look pretty sick…
“Leslie isn't going to be at today’s meeting,” comes a voice, and Ben swivels around to see Ron Swanson standing at his desk, enough to cut out the chatter immediately. “I sent her home.”
And that kind of irritates Ben, because he knows full well that Ron is the woodshop teacher and was forced into overseeing Student Council when he despises government, but is he going to go so far with it that he'll send their President home on the day they actually really need her? She has a speech to prepare, and they have chairs to set up, and—
“Do not question me on this decision, because I do not answer questions,” he says.
Ben gapes. “But, Mr. Swanson—”
“I said no, Wyatt,” he barks, and Ben shuts up immediately. “She wasn't feeling well. She's stressed, and she needed the rest. I suggest you all get prepared while we wait for Chris.”
Now it's Tom’s turn to groan. “Traeger is coming in? God, it's bad enough that—”
“Hello hello!” The door bursts open and Principal Traeger bursts in with a smile bright enough to be blinding. His arms are spread as if to embrace his students, but they all just sit there on top their desks, staring at him. “My lovely Pawnee High Student Council! How are we today?”
There's a collection of mumbled welcomes, nobody too enthusiastic, all of which Chris is oblivious to. He's so happy to see them that they could audibly say they were doing terribly and Chris would still be smiling. Ben pulls himself to sit on top of the desk between Tom and their Council Secretary, Jen Barkley, setting his notes in his lap. If he's lucky, Chris will make this quick and they can be on their way. Without Leslie here, they’ll have to work a lot quicker at setting up the football field for graduation.
“I am literally so happy to see you all,” Chris exclaims. “I've never had such a hardworking group of students as part of my council before. I can't wait to see how our underclassmen continue to progress, and to my seniors…” His voice starts to choke, getting ready to cry, and Ben sighs softly, hoping to have avoided this. “My seniors are going to do amazing things in college, and I will miss you, and I love you all so much. I only wish you were all here…”
“You'll see Leslie at graduation,” Ron grunts. “Wrap it up.”
“Of course. Ben Wyatt!” Chris claps near him, causing him to jump and nearly collapse into Jen. But Chris has his hand on his shoulder, steadying him with such a tight hold that it can only belong to a super-human like him. “Our Vice President. I'm very sorry you weren't able to do the graduation speech, I heard it meant quite a bit to you.”
The very last thing Ben wants to do is discuss the speech with Chris Traeger in front of the entire Student Council, and he looks at his lap to hide his frown. Every time he's reminded of it, it irritates him, and it's all he can do to push it back, smooth his sweaty palms on his jeans, and force a smile to his face. “It's no problem,” he lies. “I mean, I would've killed to do that speech, but… Leslie’s got it. She'll do great at it.”
And the worst part is, Ben has no doubt about that. He and Leslie might have their differences… four years worth of explosive and very public differences, to be exact, but that doesn't mean he thinks she's incompetent. No, he actually thinks she's incredibly smart, and passionate, and good at what she does. She's going to nail that speech and everyone will love her for it, Ben will ignore his jealousy and tell her good job, and they'll move on with their lives. Really, Ben has complete faith in her. Not that he’ll ever tell her that. Fighting with her is too fun to let go.
Chris pats Ben’s cheek, which makes him flinch. “I’m sure you had an absolutely lovely speech prepared, but I'm glad you're not upset. The faith you have in your friend is very admirable, Ben.”
He blushes furiously. “Oh, well, I wouldn't call her my friend—”
“Tom Haverford! Jennifer Barkley!” Chris has already moved on, leaving Ben stumbling over his own words and clutching his books too tightly. “My other seniors! I'm so proud of you I could literally burst!”
“Feel free to explode before graduation,” Jen mumbles, and Tom snorts.
“We really need to move this along,” Ron interrupts, already getting up to walk out the door. “I have a stage to stabilize and they have chairs to set up. Let's go!”
He barks the order, and it's enough to make everyone jump off their desks to their feet, scrambling along after Ron. Ben shoves his book away and catches up to Tom, nobody even once looking back as Chris shouts down the hall after them.
“I'll see you all at the ceremony!” he shouts, and once again you can hear the barely held back tears in his voice. “I love you all so much!”
…
It's an hour until graduation starts, and everything is chaos.
The stage is set and all the chairs are out, counted carefully to make sure there's one for every Pawnee High graduate. Tom is making sure everyone has their caps and gowns, Jen is talking to the band director, and Ben is ushering in students and getting them in their places, making sure they find their partners. The Student Council Sophomore and Freshman class Representatives, Jeremy Jamm and Bobby Newport, are standing at the entrance to the football field to give parents access, passing out programs and making sure no fights break out.
And Ben assumes everything is fine, because why wouldn't it be? He's doing his job, everyone else is doing their job, there's nothing to worry about. Other than the fact that the sun is beating down on him and he's sweating through his shirt and he still needs to change into his blue graduation gown. And he knows his parents are around here somewhere and god, that thought scares him enough to send him into a cold sweat.
He's almost vibrating with anxiety by the time his history teacher, Mr. Newport, comes up behind him and puts his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, bud, I'll take it from here, okay? You need to get ready.”
Ben releases a loud sigh of relief, so grateful for Newport that he swears he almost hugs him. “Thank you so much.”
“It's your special day, you need to enjoy it!” Newport smiles at him, but then stops Ben one more time before he can dart off to the gym. “Oh, one more thing— I think Mr. Swanson said he needed to see you, to send you over. I think there might be a problem with the speech?”
“The speech? I— what?”
“Go! Go!”
Ben doesn't need to be told twice, because he knows if Ron is summoning him there must be an actual problem. And with the speech, too? He can't help but wonder if Leslie's alright, and he pictures her one more time curled over and throwing up into a toilet, and he starts to feel bad. If she's sick on graduation day…
Wait. If she's sick on graduation day… does that mean Ben has a chance at delivering his speech?
He runs up to Ron with an already hopeful look on his face, but it's dashed before it can even really begin. Ron doesn't look okay. Ron never really looks happy, but now… now he looks downright worried. “Hey, Mr. Newport sent me over. What's wrong?”
“Leslie’s not here,” Ron says, and it makes so little sense to Ben that he can't even properly respond.
“I— huh?”
“She's not here. She's late. And she hasn't so much as warned anyone. Has she talked to you?”
Ben points to himself, wide-eyed. “Me? Why would she—” But he scrambles to check his phone anyway, just out of curiosity, only to find messages from his mom and dad, his older brother Henry, who is warning him that their parents are on edge, and nothing else. “Nothing, sir. But I— I don't understand. I thought she was here, and practicing her speech.”
“Obviously if she was, you and I wouldn't be standing here having this conversation, now would we?” he snaps, and Ben winces. The anger in his voice is clear, and scares him, because it means Ron is scared.
But why would Leslie be late to graduation? It makes no sense, she's never been late to anything. Most times, she’s an hour early and waiting for everyone else, a fact that Ben has repeatedly found irritating and tried to beat to no avail. And she would never get lost, or preoccupied. Just the thought of Leslie forgetting about graduation makes no sense, not when he knows full well she has a countdown to the date on at least four different calendars.
“I…” It’s as if Ben has forgotten how to speak, because all thought flies out the window. He stares down at his shoes pressing into the grass of the football field, looks past Ron to see the chairs lined up, facing the stage. He hears the band start to warm up and the familiar, excited chatter of all his classmates preparing themselves for the start. He checks his watch. Only a half hour until start time, and Leslie’s not here, and Ben’s not in his gown. “Are we sure she's not with the other students?”
Ron looks about ready to scruff Ben by his shirt collar. “How dumb do you think she is, son? She knows full well she's supposed to meet with me and go over her speech timing. When’s the last time you saw her?”
He searches his brain, struggling to think properly, trying to conjure up blonde hair and that irritating voice and that thing she does when she wants to be intimidating where she looks him in the eye— “After school,” he gasps. “Before the Student Council meeting. She didn't look good. Do you think she's sick?”
“It's possible,” Ron mumbles. “She didn't look good when I saw her, either.”
“Do… do you think she's gonna make it?”
“I couldn't tell you.” He checks his watch one more time, his brow furrowing and his mustache bristling. “You might have to do it.”
Ben chokes on nothing. “I might— what?”
“Your speech, keep up, Wyatt. If she doesn't come in by the time we start, you're going to have to do your speech. Are you prepared for that?”
And despite the fact that Leslie not being here is a strangeness on par with the actual end of the world, Ben feels his heart soar, his anxiety starting to lighten up. The idea of actually getting to do his speech… of being able to prove to his family and all his classmates that he's capable of things the President is (without freaking out at the idea of cameras)... it just makes Ben happy. He nods quickly at Ron, unable to help the smile on his face. “I… yes, sir. I've had the speech memorized for a while. I can do it.”
“Good. Get your gown on and get in your spot, and watch for Leslie.”
But Leslie is already far out of Ben’s mind by that point, gone completely by the time he runs across the field to grab his gown and shove his cap onto his head. He’s adjusting his tassel so it's on the right side by the time he joins his classmates, and suddenly, walking across the field by himself doesn't sound so bad. If Leslie doesn't show up and he has to do this all himself… well, he’ll just look like the guy who stepped up, right? This could be his moment.
Knope versus Wyatt, final round, Ben thinks to himself. And when the band starts to play for their entrance and the clock strikes seven and Leslie Knope is nowhere to be seen, is it bad that he’s giddy? It's their final round, and he might have just actually won, on the most important day of all four years of high school.
He walks across the field as the band plays with no walking partner. She's still not here as he takes his seat, or when Principal Traeger gets on the stage for his opening remarks. And Ben isn't even listening, because he catches no flash of blonde hair, or the scent of whipped cream, and she isn't bouncing up and down in the seat next to him like she would be. He can't even focus on how strange that is, how terrible that is, as names start to be called, and parents start to shout from the audience, because suddenly Ben Wyatt is having the time of his life at graduation.
“Benjamin Walker Wyatt!”
He’s all smiles as he walks across the stage and shakes hands with Chris, pausing for a picture, taking his diploma. It feels good in his hands, not too heavy, feeling smooth and perfect and his. A sign that he's done it, four years are finally over, and after tonight he can say goodbye to Pawnee High School, with its raccoons in the bathrooms, Ron Swanson’s refusal to hold office hours, Chris Traeger’s ridiculous health initiatives, water fountain hygiene issues, and most of all, goodbye to Leslie Knope.
She can't torture him anymore, not after tonight. Not after this is over.
He can hear the crowd cheering, barely drowning out the sound of his parents (who are probably yelling loudly just to spite the other, he’s sure), and he's on some kind of high as he floats to the side of the stage, Ron holding him back to stay close by. He whispers something to Chris after only a few minutes, and he nods, looking between Ron and Ben. Good lord, it's actually happening.
He feels as if he's actually floating when Chris ushers him up onto the stage, and in Ben’s mind is nothing but the words of his speech, over and over, and not Leslie Knope, definitely not Leslie Knope, even though it should be. Even though he should feel bad, and he should be worried, and his heart should be twisting in his chest, wondering what in the world could have stopped her from making it to her own graduation.
No, none of that is on his mind. Right now, he is selfish.
Chris smiles into the microphone. “I have the utmost pleasure of introducing to you all our Student Council Vice President, Benjamin Wyatt, who has some words to share with us all before he will lead us into our final moments. Take it away, Ben!”
Ben smiles, clears his throat, and takes a moment to look around the stadium. The lights shine down like spotlights, illuminating him and all the graduates in the dark of this June evening, and right now, he just feels strangely at peace. He can do this.
“Pawnee High School,” Ben starts, and he revels in the sound of his voice projecting across the field. “I'd like to start by saying congratulations.”
And everyone is too distracted to notice it, but Leslie Knope never does show up.