Chapter 19
19
TORE
I leaned against the brick wall of the dining hall, watching Luke devour his fourth slice of pizza. His appetite never ceased to amaze me.
“So,” Luke said between bites, “what are your plans for Thanksgiving break?”
I shrugged, caught off guard by the question. “I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest. We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in Norway, so it’s not something I’m accustomed to planning for.”
Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, seriously? You don’t have any plans at all?”
“Not as such, no,” I replied, feeling a bit sheepish. “I suppose I’ll stay on campus and catch up on some reading. Perhaps work on that political theory paper due after the break.”
“Dude, that’s not okay. I wish I could invite you, but we’re at my grandpa’s this year. After my grandma died, he needs us to be there for him. They were married for fifty years, you know.”
“I’m so sorry, Luke. It must be hard for him.”
He sighed. “It’s part of life to lose people you love, but that doesn’t make it easy.”
“Is he your father’s parent? The one who owned your farm before your father did?”
His eyes widened for a moment. “You remember the littlest details. It’s impressive.”
I could tell him I’d been trained in that, but that would only lead to questions. “I try to listen when people tell me something.”
“Well, it’s working. And yes, he is.” He checked his watch. “We need to go. We have practice in a few minutes.”
When I walked toward the trash can to throw out my half-eaten apple—it had been devoid of any taste and about the furthest thing from crispy one could imagine—I almost walked into Farron.
“Hey,” I said, my cheeks immediately heating.
“You’re staying here for Thanksgiving?” he asked, sounding almost angry.
I fronted. “How do you?—”
“I overheard you talking to Luke.”
“It doesn’t make sense for me to go back home, especially since I already spent a few days there recently.”
“You can’t be here by yourself.”
What was the problem? “I’ll be fine, I assure you.”
Farron crossed his arms, his brows furrowed. He seemed to be wrestling with something internally. I waited, curious about what was on his mind. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Look, I… I know we’re not boyfriends or anything, but no one should be alone on Thanksgiving. My mom would kill me if she found out. So, if you want, you can celebrate Thanksgiving with me.”
I blinked, stunned by the unexpected invitation. My heart raced as I processed his words. “You’re inviting me to spend Thanksgiving with your family?”
Farron rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I mean, if you want to. It’s not gonna be anything fancy, but you wouldn’t be alone.”
Warmth spread through my chest. The idea of spending a holiday with Farron, seeing where he came from, was thrilling. “Do you mean it? Or are you secretly hoping I’ll say no?”
He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Have you ever known me to do something I don’t want to?”
Not the most enthusiastic response, but I’d take it. “I would be honored, Farron. Truly. Thank you for the invitation.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
One more thing to add to my growing list of secrets. “Not a word.”
But that turned out to be a promise I couldn’t keep. We’d both forgotten about Luke, who had watched our exchange. He’d been too far away to overhear anything, but the fact that Farron and I were talking to begin with had shocked him. “What the fuck was that about?”
“What do you mean?”
He rolled his eyes. “You and Farron, obviously. You were talking.”
“That’s not allowed?”
“Don’t treat me like an idiot. What the hell is going on?”
I didn’t want to betray Farron’s trust, but I also hated the idea of lying to Luke. If news of what Farron and I had been up to ever leaked, it would cost me my friendship with him. Could I count on Luke to keep our secret? He’d never given me any reason to doubt him.
“Not here,” I said.
He held his tongue until we were outside, then looked around to ensure no one was close by. “What’s going on?”
“You can’t tell anyone. I mean it.”
His eyes widened. “Oh my god, it’s something big, isn’t it?”
“Promise me.”
He held up his hand. “I solemnly swear.”
“Farron and I have been… seeing each other.”
Luke came to an abrupt stop. “Get the fuck outta here.”
“I’m serious.”
“All that hate between you two was…”
I let out a deep sigh. “Foreplay. You could call it foreplay.”
Luke resumed walking again, his face still showing his shock. “I’ll be damned. That’s about the last thing I expected.”
“It’s nothing serious. We have this crazy chemistry we’re trying to get out of our system. It’ll burn out soon, and then we’ll go back to normal.”
“Good luck with that ’cause I don’t think it works that way. But I won’t say a word.”
I shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“But what were you guys talking about?”
I looked away, fearing that if Luke saw my face, he’d read too much from it. “He overheard me saying I’d be here alone for Thanksgiving, and he invited me to celebrate with his family.”
Once again, Luke halted. “You’re celebrating Thanksgiving with him?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just sex, huh?” He patted my shoulder. “Keep dreaming.”
We didn’t speak of it again, instead hurrying to soccer practice.
All during practice, my mind raced with thoughts about the upcoming holiday. I’d never experienced an American Thanksgiving, and the prospect of sharing it with Farron and his family filled me with excitement and a touch of anxiety.
What would his family be like? Would they accept me? I hoped they wouldn’t find me too foreign or out of place. The significance of this invitation wasn’t lost on me, despite me downplaying it to Luke. Had he truly only done it out of some cultural sense of obligation?
Farron was letting me into a personal part of his life, something he didn’t do lightly. This Thanksgiving would be more than a meal; it was a chance to understand Farron better, to see the world that had shaped him.
* * *
I was ready to go when he texted me the next morning. Luke had already left and our building seemed mostly empty as I hurried down the steps and slid into the passenger seat of Farron’s beat-up Chevy, throwing my weekend bag in the back seat.
The landscape rolled by as we rumbled down the highway. Ohio was vast—endless fields of golden corn stubble stretched to the horizon, interrupted only by the occasional red barn or silo. It was a far cry from the fjords and mountains of Norway, but it held its own simple beauty.
At first, our conversation was stilted, but then I started discussing the latest matches in the Premier League with him, and time flew by. He was a Manchester United fan, while I cheered for Manchester City—I had to, considering Erling Haaland, their star striker, was Norwegian and played for our national team—which gave us yet another point of contention.
“I find it interesting he’s playing for Norway,” Farron said. “He has dual citizenship, right?”
“He does, and he could choose to play for England.”
“So why doesn’t he? The English national team is far better than the Norwegian—no offense.”
“It is, which is why that choice means so much. He could’ve led England to a victory in the World Cup, but instead, he chose to represent the country he feels most connected to. He’s always played for Norway, even as a youth.”
Farron slowly nodded. “It speaks to his integrity and character, I think.”
“Agreed.”
We turned off the main road onto a narrower one, where the houses stood close together, and the lawns were tiny.
“Almost there,” Farron said, a hint of tension in his voice.
We pulled up to a modest, two-story house with peeling, white paint and a slightly sagging porch. Before I could fully take it in, the front door burst open and two younger versions of Farron came bounding out.
“Far! You’re home!” the youngest girl—that had to be Calista—squealed, launching herself at Farron as soon as he stepped out of the car. I took a deep breath and got out as well, plastering on my most charming smile.
Farron hugged the girl tightly. “Hey, ladybug. So happy to see you.”
Rowan was a little more reserved, but he also embraced Farron. Then a woman who could only be Farron’s mother emerged from the house, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She looked tired, but her smile was genuine.
“You must be Tore,” she said warmly, extending her hand. “I’m Linda. Welcome to our home.”
I shook her hand, noting the calluses and strength in her grip. “Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Carey. I truly appreciate your hospitality.”
She waved off my formality with a laugh. “Oh, honey, call me Linda. And we’re happy to have you. We’re excited to meet one of Farron’s friends.”
Caspian, a lanky teenager trying very hard to seem unimpressed, came outside as well, and Farron affectionately gave him a noogie. “Good to see you, dude.”
As we made our way inside, I couldn’t help but notice the worn furniture, the faded curtains, the many stains on the walls, and the slight draft from the windows. But there was also warmth here—countless family photos crowding the walls, the smell of bacon, the sound of laughter.
I caught Farron watching me, a guarded look in his eyes. I smiled at him, hoping to convey without words that I was honored and grateful to be here.
We’d arrived in time for lunch, which consisted of club sandwiches, served with a big pickle and a little bag of potato chips on a collection of mismatched plates. Linda was still making the last few ones in the tiny but spotlessly clean kitchen.
“Can I help with anything, Mrs… I mean, Linda?” I asked, feeling oddly out of place.
Linda smiled warmly. “That’s sweet of you, Tore. Could you two set the table?”
I nodded eagerly, glad for something to do. As Farron guided me to the drawer with the silverware, his shoulders were tense, his movements stiff.
“Your family seems lovely,” I said softly, trying to ease the tension.
Farron grunted, not meeting my eyes. “Yeah, they’re all right. Look, it’s not much compared to what you’re used to, but?—”
I cut him off gently. “It’s perfect, Farron. Truly.”
He finally looked at me, a mix of defiance and vulnerability in his eyes. My heart ached at the conflict I saw there. Finally, he nodded, relaxing a little.
As we all sat down to eat, I was struck by the simple homeyness of it all. I might be used to more formal meals, but this had so much more atmosphere. “This looks absolutely delicious,” I said sincerely.
Linda beamed. “We’re glad you could join us, honey. Now, dig in.”
As we ate, I made an effort to engage with Farron’s siblings, complimenting Rowan on a drawing I’d noticed in the living room that had his name on it and asking Caspian about his interests—soccer, what a shock. Farron was watching me, his posture gradually relaxing as the meal progressed.
“So, Tore,” Linda said between bites, “Farron tells me you’re on the soccer team with him. How are you liking Hawley so far?”
I swallowed a mouthful. “Oh, I’m loving it. It’s quite different from home but in the best way. Everyone’s been so welcoming, especially Farron.”
I caught Farron’s eye as I said this, and a small smile tugged at his lips. For a moment, I forgot about the worn tablecloth and the cramped kitchen. All I could see was the warmth in Farron’s eyes, the way his family laughed together, the love that filled this home.
As I helped clear the dishes later, I realized that this simple meal had given me something I’d rarely experienced in all the grand state dinners and royal banquets of my childhood: a sense of belonging.
After lunch, Calista tugged at my sleeve. “Tore, do you want to play a game with us?”
I glanced at Farron, who nodded encouragingly. “I’d be delighted,” I said, following the younger siblings into the living room.
Rowan was already setting up a board game on the coffee table. “We’re playing Monopoly,” he announced, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“Ah, a classic.” I settled on the worn carpet. “I must warn you, though, I’m rather rubbish at this game.”
Caspian snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re probably some kind of Monopoly shark.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I assure you, I’m not. My sisters always beat me soundly.”
Farron joined us, sitting close enough that our shoulders brushed. The warmth of his body next to mine was distracting in the most delightful way. The game started and, as was common with Monopoly, quickly became heated, but in a playful way.
“Ha! Pay up, Tore,” Calista crowed as I landed on her New York Avenue. “That’ll be two thousand dollars.”
I handed over the colorful bills, chuckling. “You drive a hard bargain, my lady.”
As the game wound down, with Calista emerging as the victor, Caspian stood up. “Soccer time.”
Farron nodded. “Soccer time.”
Five minutes later, everyone had changed into soccer uniforms and cleats, including Calista, and we walked across the street to a playground with a small grass field next to it. On either side stood two small vertical wooden poles, which would be our goals.
“Farron and me against you three,” Caspian decided.
Farron and I grinned at each other. Of course we would be on rival teams. It made sense, considering.
Caspian was good. Really, really good. We wouldn’t have stood a chance if not for the fact that I was faster and Rowan and Calista were also great players, especially considering their age. In all fairness, Farron went easy on them in the tackles—as he should.
But our main weapon was my speed and the fact that I was in such great shape, having done so much conditioning training. Farron didn’t stand a chance at keeping up with me at full speed, and even Caspian had to admit I left him in the dust.
We played for an hour, and the game ended in a tie, with Farron and I conspiring to make that score happen. Caspian knew it was rigged, but he went along with it, and Rowan and Calista were delighted we hadn’t lost.
“You’re really fast, Tore,” Calista said. “It was fun playing with you.”
“Thank you. I had fun too.”
Farron leaned in, his breath tickling my ear. “You’re good with them,” he murmured.
His words sent a shiver down my spine. “They’re wonderful,” I whispered back. “Just like their brother.”
Our eyes met, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. The intensity in Farron’s gaze made my heart race.
“You guys coming?” Caspian asked, breaking the spell.
“Yeah,” Farron said, his voice hoarse.
Dinner consisted of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans, and we gobbled it all up, hungry after the game. Everyone had chores, I discovered, with Calista and Rowan in charge of the dishes while Caspian took out the trash and wiped down the table.
Farron and I found ourselves alone in the living room.
“Want to go for a walk?” Farron asked, his voice low.
I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. We slipped out into the cool, night air, walking side by side down the quiet street. Our hands brushed, and without thinking, I laced my fingers through his.
Farron stopped, turning to face me. In the soft glow of a streetlight, his eyes were dark and intense. “Tore,” he breathed, and then his lips were on mine.
The kiss was electric. Farron’s mouth was hot and demanding, his stubble rough against my skin. I melted into him, my free hand coming up to tangle in his hair. His tongue swept across my lower lip, and I opened for him with a soft moan.
When we finally broke apart, both of us breathing heavily, I rested my forehead against his. His arms tightened around me. “Fuck, Tore,” he muttered. “What are you doing to me?”
I didn’t have an answer, but as we stood in the darkness, holding each other close, I knew that whatever was happening between us was far more powerful than I’d ever anticipated.