The Tassel That Pointed West — Under the warm stage lights, Bex balanced her square cap and dared herself not to blink until the tassel stopped swinging. Read the full story →
Under the warm stage lights, Bex balanced her square cap and dared herself not to blink until the tassel stopped swinging. Around her, paper stars ticked against the tablecloth, balloons squeaked softly, and a banner snapped, “GRAD!” in the fan breeze. The tassel should have hung straight. Instead it kept pointing west, toward the sealed diploma resting in the frosting curls.
Bex scooted closer. Sugar grit crackled under her wrapper. When the tassel brushed the diploma ribbon, the roll gave a hollow pop, and a tiny silver moth slipped out, carrying a speck of midnight ink. “Read the corner,” it whispered. On the diploma’s edge, Bex found one sentence: Tip your cap toward the next question.
So Bex tilted her cap west, and every little mortarboard on the table tilted too. Ever since, graduation cupcakes wear their caps a bit slanted, because the tassel remembers the first secret question. If you peek among the stars and tiny caps, can you tell which way Bex’s curiosity ran?
