I was born the first of three children, but I joke that I’m like that first pancake.” A smattering of laughter ripples across the assembled crowd and I smile. “You know what I mean? A little messy, slightly undercooked, but still tastes good?”

The laughter intensifies, but mixed in now are a few bawdy catcalls, and I burst out laughing in realization. “See, and that wasn’t even meant to sound saucy! Look at me trying to be professional, and I’m still a mess.” I glance over my shoulder and grin at Dr. Leila Nguyen, the provost of UC San Diego’s Revelle College and my former creative writing professor. “I guess that’s what you get for inviting a romance author to give the commencement address.”

Beside Dr. Nguyen sits another person struggling to smother a smile. Dr. River Peña—close friend, hot genius, and unconfirmed vampire—is also a special guest today; I guess he’s receiving yet another honorary degree for being some type of sexy prodigy. He looks like he belongs up here: stiff collar, perfectly pressed suit pants visible below the hem of his full doctoral regalia, shiny dress shoes, and an air of austerity I’ve never been able to master. Right now, I can see the knowing amusement light up his smug, thickly lashed eyes.

When I first received the invitation to speak at this ceremony, River immediately slapped a twenty-dollar bill down onto the table between us and declared, “This is going to go completely sideways, Fizzy. Convince me otherwise.”

I’m sure he and my best friend, Jess—his wife—expected that I would get up onstage and deliver The Vagina Monologues to the academic masses, or pull out a banana and remind everyone while I rolled a condom onto it that safe sex is still important in this here year of our Lord Harry Styles—but I swear I can play the part of a buttoned-down literary type when the situation calls for it.