Chapter 23 #2
“Nah,” I say. “I like it out here. Just us.”
“FOUR! THREE! TWO!”
She tilts her face up to mine, and I can see her breath in the cold air, can see the string lights reflected in her eyes.
“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Inside, everyone’s cheering. Someone’s blowing a horn. Someone else is probably already crying or throwing up, or both.
But out here, it’s quiet.
Just me and Rhi and the beginning of something new.
I kiss her as fireworks explode somewhere in the distance, and it feels like a promise. Not that everything will be perfect. Not that we won’t struggle. But that we’ll keep showing up. Keep trying. Keep choosing each other.
When we break apart, she’s smiling.
“Happy New Year,” she says.
“Happy New Year.”
We stand there in the cold, holding each other, and I think about everything that’s changed in the past two weeks.
We’re not fixed. We’re still figuring it out.
Jake bursts onto the deck, slightly drunk, grinning like an idiot. “There you are! Get in here! We’re doing the champagne toast!”
“We don’t drink champagne,” I point out.
“It’s sparkling cider from Trader Joe’s, but we’re calling it champagne because it sounds fancier.” He grabs my arm. “Come on. You can’t skip the toast. It’s tradition.”
I look at Rhi, and she nods. “Go. I want to see what passes for champagne at a frat house.”
Inside, someone’s passing around plastic cups filled with what is definitely sparkling cider. Jake thrusts two cups into our hands.
“Speech!” someone yells.
“No speech!” I yell back.
“Come on, man! You’re a legacy! You have to say something!”
I look around at all these guys—some of them I’ve known for years, some I barely know at all. They’re all looking at me expectantly.
“Alright, fine,” I say, and everyone cheers. “But it’s going to be short because I’m bad at speeches and also because this cider is already making me regret my choices.”
Laughter.
“I just want to say—” I pause, trying to find the words.
“This year was really hard. Probably the hardest year of my life. And I spent most of it hiding. From you guys, from myself, from everything. But being here tonight, talking about Dom, remembering him with all of you—it reminded me why I joined this house in the first place.”
I look at Jake, at Marcus, at all the faces watching me.
“It’s not about the parties or the brotherhood speeches or any of that stuff.
It’s about having people who show up. Who sit with you when you’re falling apart.
Who tell you when you’re being an idiot.
Who make you laugh even when everything feels terrible.
” I raise my cup. “So here’s to showing up.
To being honest. To being the kind of people who make other people glad they showed up too. ”
“To showing up!” everyone echoes, raising their cups.
We drink the terrible sparkling cider, and it’s sweet and fizzy and absolutely not champagne.
But it’s perfect.
Later, when the party starts to wind down and people are either leaving or passing out on couches.
Some guy I don’t recognize is talking to Rhi. Standing too close. Making her laugh.
She’s being polite. I know her polite laugh now. It’s different from her real one.
But he doesn’t know that.
“You okay?” Jake asks, following my gaze.
“Fine.”
“You look like you’re about to commit murder.”
“I’m fine,” I repeat.
Jake grins. “You’re so gone for her.”
“Shut up.”
Rhi catches my eye across the room. Smiles. Excuses herself from the guy and heads toward me.
Yeah. I’m gone.
“I’m ready to go,” Rhi says.
“Then let’s go, darling.”
The walk back to my apartment is cold but clear. The streets are mostly empty except for a few other people stumbling home from parties.
“That was a good speech,” Rhi says, her arm linked through mine.
“It was okay.”
“It was really good. You meant it.”
“Yeah. I did.” I think about it. “I think I’m ready to come back. Not move back in full-time, but actually be part of the house again. Actually show up to things.”
“I think that’s good. Those guys love you.”
We start walking again, and I think about the difference between last New Year’s and this one. Last year, I was drunk and numb and trying to forget. This year, I’m relatively sober and present and actually feeling things.
It hurts more. But it also feels more real.
More alive.
When we get to my apartment, Jake’s not home yet—probably staying at the house—so it’s just us.
Rhi immediately goes to the couch, pulling off her boots and curling up under a blanket. I join her, and she tucks herself against my side.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks.
“Just... how different everything is. How a month ago, I was failing my classes and avoiding everyone and completely lost. And now I’m here with you, and I went back to the frat, and I actually have a plan for my future.”
“Yeah?”
“I feel really good about my new plan. The more I think about it, the more I know that being a firefighter is the right path for me.”
Her face lights up. “Carter, that’s amazing.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head. “What about you? What’s next for Rhiannon Pierce?”
“Well, the paper gets submitted in two weeks. Professor Bam says I’m definitely still co-author. And I’ve been looking at grad programs for next year. There’s this amazing volcanology program in Oregon that I’m thinking about applying to.”
“Oregon? That’s far.”
“I know.” She tilts her head to look at me. “Would that be okay? I mean, we’d figure it out, right? Long distance or—”
“We’ll figure it out,” I say firmly. “You’re going to apply to that program. You’re going to get in because you’re brilliant. And we’ll make it work. Whatever it takes.”
“What if you’re in fire academy and I’m in Oregon and we barely see each other?”
“Then we FaceTime every night. We visit when we can. We make it work because that’s what people do.”
“You really mean that?”
“I really mean that. Rhi, I’m not going anywhere. Even if you’re in Oregon and I’m here. Even if it’s hard. I’m in this.”
“Me too,” she whispers. “I’m in this too.”
“Carter,” she says, pulling back just enough to look at me.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
My heart stops. Restarts. Beats so hard I’m sure she can hear it.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She’s smiling through tears. “I love you. I’m terrified, but I love you.”
“I love you too.” The words feel easy. True. “I think I have since you told me off for storing equipment incorrectly.”
She laughs. “That’s a terrible origin story.”
“It’s ours.”
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