Thanksgiving Break—Junior Year of College #4
I try to walk back what I’ve just said. “Which is putting a lot of pressure on something, you know? Like, we’ve never actually been in a relationship before.
Maybe we’d quickly find out we’re not compatible.
Yet it just seems like going into something a second time brings so many more expectations and…
” I’m unsure if I’m even making sense to myself.
Declan leans toward me eagerly.
“What?” I ask softly, already having some innate sense that he’s going to say something that will put my mind at ease.
He reaches out and knocks a knuckle against my knee, sending shivers across my body. “I distinctly remember you telling me that history doesn’t actually repeat.”
Somehow this is the most reassuring thing he could possibly say to me.
I reach to take hold of his hand. “You remember that?”
“Of course.” Declan interlaces his fingers with my own.
I smile but shake my head wistfully, feeling myself falling with so much momentum I can’t stop it, I can only try to see if his own logic could poke holes in this.
“But what if I can counter that with some statistics? I don’t think it’s generally successful when couples break up and then try to get back together. ”
He’s inching even closer to me in the back seat. “But were we together long enough to be counted in that data set? Like, we didn’t get to the messy parts that usually break a relationship. There aren’t really bad habits or arguments to rehash. We could truly start fresh.”
It would be so much simpler if life offered a clean slate.
But then again, aren’t all the trials throughout the journey part of what makes living worthwhile?
The past has given me plenty to consider, and being here with Declan again, I wonder if I’ve built one particular roadblock too high.
If maybe it’s time to circumvent? But at the very least, I can’t leave it unaddressed.
With a nervous, pretending-to-be-more-unbothered-than-I-am chuckle, I say, “Except you did still dump me in that roller rink.”
Declan squeezes my hand. “What if I learn to roller-skate? Replace the negative with a positive?”
I turn away from him and sit upright. Declan follows my actions and slides farther down the seat from me, giving space. “What are we even talking about right now?” I ask, voice level. “How did we get on this subject? You were about to set me up with your roommate.”
He faces ahead toward the driver’s seat, briefly bouncing his leg as he says, “And I would’ve been a jealous wreck, so it’s a good thing we abandoned that idea.”
I stare at him, somehow wanting this more than anything but feeling too scared all the same.
I had no idea I would see him today. There was no way for me to have possibly anticipated this conversation, even though moments like this have occasionally played out in my imagination for the last two and a half years. “Declan.”
“Iris.” He turns back toward me. I focus on his blue eyes and find them pleading. “What are we even risking? A friendship that’s grown apart?”
I tap my fists together several times, unsure how to broach what feels obvious. “Are you just lonely? You got out of a relationship not too long ago. I’m not here to be some backup plan.”
There’s not a moment’s hesitation for him to say, “You’re not a second choice.”
“It seems exactly like that, though.”
“I’m not going to lie and say I was pining after you the whole time I was with someone else, but the only reason I even started dating anyone was because I thought you had shut the door on the possibility of us.”
“And I thought I did.”
“But now?”
I briefly bury my face in my hands, muffling my voice. “Declan, I don’t know if this would be a mistake.”
“My brother doesn’t think it would be a mistake. I don’t think your sister does either.”
“They really love conspiring against us.” I laugh. “Or for us, I guess would be more accurate.”
“You know what Grady said when he told me you were looking for a ride home?”
“What?” I ask.
“That me and you could give things a real chance now. That is, if you’re even interested.”
“I am,” I finally admit. I lean against the door but leave my palms open against my legs, wondering if he’ll take hold again. “It’s overwhelming spending time with you again. What if it’s just nostalgia or—”
“Or we should give this a try,” he says, reaching for my hand just as I hoped.
“We can roll for it,” I tease.
Declan pats his pockets. “I don’t have any dice on me.” But he’s determined to find some. He leans over into the trunk to grab his backpack, searching in the pockets until he discovers two loose dice at the bottom of his bag. “Here we go.”
“Yep, there we go,” I say, echoing his words, wondering if I’m really ready to leave this up to chance.
He offers the classic white dice to me. “Do you want to roll?”
“You can.”
“What do we do?” he asks. “Odds or evens? Or, like, four through six?”
“Um, snake eyes,” I say before considering the negative connotation of what would be considered a low roll. Declan hesitates, also because I’ve chosen something with less likely odds than a broader category of result options like he was suggesting would’ve afforded.
“Okay.” His voice quivers as he holds up the dice, shaking them in his hands. “Okay?”
I nod. He tosses the dice onto the seat between us, and they bounce once. Declan is hunched forward, holding his breath, watching so intently that, in this very moment, I know I don’t need to wait to see the result.
Before the dice settle on a number, I reach out and knock them into the footwell.
Declan is confused. “Wha—”
But I lean forward and interrupt him with a kiss.
One that he’s excited to return, running his hands up through my hair then down my back, as I lunge forward to wrap my arms around him and crawl onto his lap.
Our urgency is somehow also slow and steady, exploratory and self-possessed, not racing against a clock but appreciating every single moment of connection.
Several minutes later, I lean away to catch my breath, in awe of the smile dawning on Declan’s face as he gazes up at me. “We’re giving this a try?” he asks, reaching to brush a finger across my neck.
“Maybe we’ve found the right timing,” I say, leaning in to kiss him once more, giddy as he hums in appreciation and meets me in the middle. “There’s really only one way to find out.”
“Wait…” he says, noticing something. He wraps his arms behind my back and lowers us down onto the seat so we can turn to look at the dice on the floor.
“What are they?” I ask, still unable to see them clearly.
Declan reaches to clasp the two dice between his thumb and index finger, bringing them close to our faces, displaying the pair of ones staring back up at us.
“Would you look at that,” I tease. I already felt assured in my decision, but a little sign from the universe can’t hurt.
Declan drops the dice again, and we cuddle together across the back seat, legs scrunched tight against the door but neither of us minding the cozy, enclosed space.
“We should probably get on the road,” I whisper, not actually wanting to leave yet. The sky is dark above us, and there’s still a long way home.
“We will soon.” Declan doesn’t move either.
That’s fine with me. “Okay.”
He holds me close, and I rest my hand on his chest. Our breathing steadies, falling into sync. “Let’s just take a moment to appreciate that we found our way back.”
To each other.