Chapter 9
Nine
Angelo
I rub my hands on my pants trying to dry off any sweat on my palms. It’s probably a lost cause, but I keep thinking it’ll be any minute that Thomas shows up.
I gave him my address so that we could go to the party together.
A decision I’ve been doubting since I made it.
This party should be fun. It marks the end of another semester, but my thoughts are all stubbornly on Thomas.
Which would be fine if this were a real date.
The doorbell rings, pulling me out of my thoughts.
When I open the door, Thomas is standing on the step looking every bit the perfect boyfriend.
His brown hair is smoothly combed out of his face.
His collared button-up peeks through the V-neck of his holiday sweater that somehow manages not to be too ugly.
All of that paired with his dark-wash jeans has my mind wondering if he looks as good out of his clothes as he does in them. No, focus.
“Thomas, you look great.” He tells me, his green eyes meeting mine.
His eyes sweep over me, taking in my bulky jacket that hides everything but my black slacks. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to make you look bad,” he tells me with a wink.
Of course, he dressed up to play the part. He’s not trying to look good for my sake.
“Right. Well, we should get going. We can take my car; it’s not much of a drive.” Thomas follows me, holding his gift bag in his hand. There’s something about the silence that sets me on edge. That’s probably why my next words escape my lips. “How’s things? Is Eric doing well?”
“He’s good. You know the typical teenager. I can’t get him off his phone.”
I laugh, but I’m afraid it comes off too forced. Too strong.
“You okay?” Thomas asks, setting his hand on my thigh. This time I’m better prepared for it than I was at the restaurant, but it still doesn’t stop the warm and fuzzy feeling in my stomach.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little nervous,” I admit.
Thomas doesn’t move his hand. The car goes silent again, but something feels different.
Better. I breathe out a sigh and focus on my driving, turning the radio slightly louder to allow the Christmas songs to fill the space.
Thomas hums along to the music as I drive, and the sound catches me off guard, but I can’t complain.
The party is at the house of one of my coworkers.
She is one of the few teachers with a house large enough to hold all of us, but with her husband’s income; it’s not like her teacher’s salary contributes much.
I’m not usually one for traditional gender roles, but I don’t think that’s what is happening here.
Camille is a strong, outspoken woman and often takes on more than her fair share of responsibilities at school.
There are already a few cars in the driveway as I pull up.
I do my best to find a spot and resign myself to my fate.
I’ve come this far; might as well face the music.
Thomas hops out of the car first, and by the time I’ve opened the door, he’s there waiting for me.
Without a word, we walk up to the door, and as I reach out to knock, his arm goes around my waist. It almost makes me hesitate, and I’m not sure if I’m surprised by the touch or not. What I do know is that it feels … nice.
Mark, Camille’s husband, opens the door and, at seeing me, he grins until he notices Thomas’s grip on me. “Hey Angelo, come on in.” We’re barely in the door when he asks, “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Thomas, my boyfriend.” The word feels awkward on my tongue, and it’s only now that I realize we didn’t discuss labels. Would it be better to call him my partner, or does that sound more serious? I’m probably overthinking things, but it’s too late; my mind is already going there.
Luckily, Thomas seems unaffected by my mental gymnastics as he reaches out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he greets Mark.
“Mark. And you, too. Let’s get you to the party.
Follow me.” He leads the way through the house, and we follow the thumping music to the living room, where most of my coworkers are gathered.
It’s not like in the romance novels. Everyone doesn’t turn to see Thomas’s arm around me.
No one glares with envy. The world doesn’t stop turning.
There’s a table loaded with food and drinks and another with gifts. A Christmas tree takes up the corner of the room, festooned with the works. Ornaments, tinsel, lights. Not a bare branch in sight. The fireplace mantel is lined with faux snow and tiny porcelain houses.
“Angelo, and who have you brought with you? I didn’t know you were seeing someone?” Emily asks as she gives Thomas a once-over.
I make introductions. “This is Thomas. We started going out a few weeks ago.”
“This is my boyfriend, Thomas.”
“I know I haven’t mentioned anything. It’s new.”
On and on. The same conversations, and each time it gets a little easier.
By the fifth or sixth time, it feels almost natural.
Like I believe what I’m saying. Thomas makes small talk, casually touching me in little ways.
His hand on my shoulder, tucking a stray curl of hair behind my ear, or his arm around my waist. At some point, I find myself with a glass of mulled cider, the sweet, spiced taste almost covering up the burn of the rum.
“You two are so cute together,” Tina says. She’s been talking with Thomas for a few minutes now, making small talk. I’ve been half paying attention.
“Everyone,” Camille calls out to the room.
“If you can gather around, we’re going to do the white elephant gift exchange.
Now I see a few new faces, so I’ll go over the rules.
Everyone gather up in a circle. We’ll start with Ashley,” she says, motioning to the woman to her left.
“She’ll pick a gift and unwrap it, then it moves to the next person.
David has the choice now to grab a new gift to unwrap or steal Ashley’s gift.
A gift can be stolen up to three times. We’ll work our way around the circle until everyone has a gift. ”
Ashley looks over the table until she settles on a medium gift box and tears open the wrapping paper.
She pulls out a coffee mug with the words “World’s Okayest Teacher” along with a bag of ground coffee.
A few people laugh at the mug before David grabs another gift, deciding not to steal Ashley’s mug.
He unwraps an avocado slicer. The next gift is a hot Santa apron with abs, along with an oven mitt and cookie mix.
Some of the gifts are funny, but there are useful ones too, like a waffle maker and a personal blender cup.
Before I know it, it gets to me, and I’m debating between grabbing a gift from the table or stealing a blanket that looks like a giant tortilla.