Chapter 1
1
Holly
“Right, before we get off this plane and your nervous energy gets us a one-way ticket to a cavity search, you need to calm the hell down,” Celine hisses in my ear.
“I can’t help it. I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Here you are, dear.” The elderly lady on the other side of me hands me a barf bag.
“Thank you.” I take the bag and force a smile. I need to get it together.
“See? You’re starting to garner attention.”
I breathe through my nose. “Grab the drinks tray. I’ll have a shot. That should help.”
“Two things wrong with that. One, we’re landing so there is no drinks tray coming. Two, you don’t want to see Aaron for the first time in two years with booze breath, do you?”
“This is a mistake. I should’ve chosen somewhere else to ‘find’ myself.” I use air quotes.
“Where else were you going to find free room and board for six weeks? Not to mention the view you get to stare at for that time.”
Cece’s right. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me. I’ve always wanted to visit Scotland. Before life became a shitshow, my parents used to tell us stories about growing up in “The Ferry”—what they called South Queensferry. From the pictures they showed us, Queensferry is a picturesque town with cobbled streets, traditional architecture, and scenic waterfront views. I could tell my parents missed it terribly. Even though they complained about small-town living and how everyone knew your business, they spoke fondly of the people in the bank knowing you by your first name and neighbours bringing you soup when you were sick. To me, what they described sounded perfect. Like family.
But as I grew up, my parents spoke less and less of their old life, and the memories of the bedtime stories they made up about the haggis with two long legs and two short legs faded until I became obsessed with the desire to go to Scotland for a chance to capture some of that magic. I desperately need this trip. The stress of my parents’ expectations on me as well as stepping in during their fights to keep things from getting dire is wearing on me. And the fact that they gifted me this trip after keeping me under their lock and key for so long tells me they’ve realised it too.
Celine snaps her fingers in front of my eyes, bringing me back to the present. “Anyone in there?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Scotland is beautiful. But right now, I’m thinking about so much more than the view.”
“I’m talking about Aaron, not the hills and glens. It’s been two years. And let’s be real, he left you with a major cliffhanger after the bonfire and that polite goodbye at their farewell party.”
I look at my lap. The farewell party wasn’t where I last saw Aaron. I saw him one last time, but I didn’t tell Celine that because she’d just go on another tangent about how much Aaron loves me. While I loved that my friend had so much confidence in me, that wasn’t true. Besides, that was two years ago, and I don’t want to go down that road of hope again.
The last time I saw Aaron was the day after their farewell party. He came by on his way to dropping off his motorbike at its new owner. I was home alone, and he didn’t have a lot of time before they left for the airport. Celine wasn’t wrong about his polite goodbye at the party. He’d given me the shortest hug known to man, then disappeared. Even Celine got a longer hug than I did, and she was still being cold to him for his caveman behaviour at the party.
He'd pulled me into a tight hug and told me he was going to miss me. I clung to his words like he’d clung to me, wanting to read more into the situation, even though I knew it was wishful thinking. I don’t think I’ve ever cried as much as I did when he left.
“Wait. What’s with your face?” She narrows her eyes as she studies me. “You look guilty. Oh my god! You saw Aaron again and you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t tell you because you’d just read into it.”
“Damn straight, because I’m not blind like you.” She huffs. “Look, forget all that. You’re getting the opportunity to spend six weeks of our Christmas break away from home. No rules, no having to be Little Miss Perfect, and no having to babysit your parents. You need to loosen up.”
She’s right. I know all this. And I’d be stupid to let my situation with Aaron—or non-situation as it were—stop me from having fun. The whole point of spending the Christmas break in Scotland is to start really living my life away from my parents. Most people I know use college to crawl out of their comfort zones, gain life experience and live it up, I was stuck in Johannesburg, going to UJ and coming home every night. It wasn’t all bad. At least Cece was studying Tourism and Hospitality there, so we weren’t in different provinces and could still see each other all the time. But it did mean my parents could still keep their very tight leash on me. And that I’d likely end up being a forty-year-old virgin, living at home with fifty cats and an addiction to Netflix.
“You’re right.”
She cups her hand dramatically behind her ear. “One more time for the people in the back.”
I bump her shoulder with mine. “Stop it.”
“Fine, I’ll stop, but only if you start focusing on your fuck-it list and stop hanging on to your anxiety like a security blanket. New city, new Holly.” She raises an imaginary glass and grins. “To doing your list. And to doing Aaron.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “Cece, we’ve been over this. I’m not going to do Aaron. He doesn’t see me that way.”
“God, you can be dense when you want to be. Why did he give you a private goodbye if he wasn’t interested, huh?”
“I don’t know,” I whine. “I just don’t want to put myself out there and then have him use the Spencer excuse again.” Cece doesn’t realise how much I wish what she was saying was true. Sure, sometimes Aaron hugged me a little longer than everyone else or reached for my hand when we chatted. But that didn’t mean there could’ve been something more. And it definitely didn’t mean that he would be interested in helping me with my fuck-it list. Sometimes we want something so much that we see things that aren’t there.
I open my eyes and turn to face her. “Besides, he could be involved with someone.”
“Spencer would know that.”
“True.” I thump my head on the headrest before I realise I’m probably pissing the person behind me off.
“You’re a catch, Hols. Don’t sell yourself short. Aaand...” She draws out the word. “You’ve grown.” She looks pointedly at my boobs.
“Shut up.” I laugh and fluff out my sweatshirt, suddenly self-conscious.
Cece grabs my hands. “I love you, Holly, but for a very intelligent girl, you can be so dumb at times. You’re gorgeous. Intelligent. Funny as all hell. You really are a catch.”
“You forgot to mention boring.”
“You can’t let Professor Prick get to you.”
I snort. “I can if he’s right. That short story I handed in was boring. I’m boring. I haven’t done anything in my life. I’m still a virgin, for God’s sake. I only started drinking at the bonfire night. I’ve never smoked or taken drugs.”
She wrinkles her nose. “You want to do drugs?”
“No. I haven’t done anything with my life. I wasted my high school years on doing everything I could to be the perfect daughter. I haven’t lived.”
“Well, that’s exactly what you’re in Scotland to fix.”
I fidget with the seat belt. When I started university, I had such high hopes. I was going to focus and put everything my high school teacher, Mr Keys, taught me into practice while I learned to hone my craft. I’d work towards getting published and getting out from under my parents’ roof and oppressive, toxic ways. Except, things haven’t turned out that way. I went from being a straight-A student to a C average. and my feedback from Professor Johnson hasn’t been great. I need to do better. Much better.
I poured my heart and soul into my short story, but even I could recognise it lacked depth. That said, I didn’t think it was that bad. I swear, when I saw the large red F on the top right- hand corner and “Please come see me” scrawled in Professor Johnson’s handwriting, my heart sank. I’d never received a failing grade. It was hard to swallow that.
He told me he’d expected more from me, that my paper was stale. It left me feeling mortified. He also advised me to tap into my life experiences for inspiration. The only life experience I have is trying to stop my parents from killing each other whenever they get too drunk—a fun little game they started as soon as Spencer went off to uni. He has no idea what’s going on at home. And I’ll never tell him.
My brother was scouted and is at Stellenbosch University on a rugby scholarship. He, of course, was allowed to go away to Cape Town to study. If he finds out what’s going on at home, he’ll leave to come take care of me and throw his life away. I won’t let him do that. I won’t let Spencer jeopardise his future.
The wheels bounce on the tarmac, dragging me from my morose thoughts.
“It’s going to be fine. And seriously, if I were you, I’d take the plunge and ask Aaron to be your first. It’s better than letting a total stranger help you lose your V-card.”
The elderly lady leans forward and pats my hand. “Take it from me, honey. I gave mine away to Bobby Swanepoel in matric. He didn’t even know my name. If you have a chance to lose your virginity to someone you know, jump on it.” She winks at me. “Pardon the pun. And if he turns you down, he’s an idiot. Because I agree with your friend here, you are gorgeous.”
The seatbelt sign goes off. Celine unbuckles herself and sits forward in her seat, so she can see past me to our travelling companion, who we’ve been with since the leg from Heathrow to Edinburgh. “Right? Maybe she’ll listen to you because she won’t listen to a word I say.”
“Oh, I think you got through some. Are you here as a wing-gal?”
I love how they’re talking about me as if I’m not sitting smack in the middle of them.
“This is only a stopover for me. I’m visiting my family here for a few days, then I’m going to America.”
I’m so proud of Cece. Through everything she does for the bookish community, she received an invite to help with the Love in LA book conference. Lucky for her, it happened to fall during our December break. One day, I hope to go as an author—if my writing ever improves and I actually publish, that is.
The plane lands, and we start taxiing to our disembarkation point. For my first ever flight—well, second—it wasn’t too bad.
“Well, it’s been a pleasure sitting next to you two on this flight. It’s time for me to stretch these old bones.”
Celine and I get the hint and stand. We have to wait a few moments for the aisle to clear enough so we can grab our suitcases. I get the elderly lady’s down and hand it to her.
“I’ve been rude. In all the nerves, I didn’t get your name.”
“Thank you. It’s Aileen, dear. And people rarely do on flights, so you’re fine.”
I smile at her. “Thank you. It was nice meeting you, Aileen.”
“Yes, nice meeting you,” Celine says.
“You, too. And good luck with your virginity.” She squeezes past the guy wrestling with his carry-on next to me. He just about gives himself whiplash, he turns so fast to gawk at me.
“Easy, tiger. It’s not your meat stick she’s after, so move on,” Celine says.
He smirks and walks away.
I shake my head and laugh, surprised that I’m not even a little embarrassed. Celine was right to suggest that I use this time to work through my fuck-it list. There’s something freeing about being in another country. It’s like landing in a different time zone breaks down inhibitions.
“Ready?” Celine asks.
“Let’s do this.”
“See? No cavity searches.”
“Yeah, I think that’s because you went a little crazy when you saw the lady at customs was reading Savage Games and distracted her.”
“I’m not going to lie, chatting about Cru and the library scene will do that to a girl.”
“Damn straight,” Celine agrees. She grabs my upper arm and turns me to face her. “Just promise me whoever you choose to do all your experimenting with, you will choose wisely. And you will be safe.”
I laugh. “I’m here for more than losing my virginity, you know.”
“I know. You better send me a pic of your first tattoo.”
As we head to the carousel to grab our bags, my nerves amp up again. This is so ridiculous. I’m in uni, yet the mere idea of seeing Aaron again makes me feel like a child. You’re a strong, confident woman. You’re a strong, confident woman. I repeat the words to myself over and over, hoping that at some point, I will believe them.
Celine’s bags come through quite quickly and are easy to spot since they are a bright yellow. As we wait for mine, we chat about how excited she is about the book signing. This is an amazing opportunity for Celine that she managed to secure herself by being such a huge hype girl in the book community and making friends. I’m so proud of her. Making friends is something I have trouble doing. It’s difficult for me to invite people into my unstable world. All my friends are from the Scottish community in South Africa, and the few I made at school is due to Celine’s popularity. I definitely need to work on that.
When I look up at the carousel, I see there are only two bags left. The guy with a face tattoo next to me grabs both. I turn around in puzzlement. “Where are my bags?”
She frowns. “Maybe they were the last off the plane? They’re probably going to come through now.”
“I hope so. All I have is Aaron’s care package from Mum in my carry-on and my travel cosmetics. What am I going to do if my bags are lost?”
“You should’ve packed a spare set of clothes in your carry-on like I told you.”
“Aaron’s package is too big.”
Celine snorts. “That’s the dream.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Like you’ve never thought of his package before.”
After another ten minutes, it’s clear my bags are, in fact, lost. “Oh my god. This is a nightmare.”
“Okay, don’t panic. Let’s go to baggage claim and let them know. Then we’ll take it from there.” As much as Celine can be the wild one of the two of us, she is level-headed when things go to shit.
We head over to baggage claim, and yup, my bag never made it from Heathrow to Edinburgh. This is why flying direct is always better. Despite the shitty luck I seem to be having, I’m definitely not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Financially, things have been better for us over the last year or so, but I know it took a lot for my parents to pay for this ticket. And despite how I feel about my parents’ drinking and life choices, I am grateful they allowed me to come on this trip—even if it is a guilt gift for how bad their fights have gotten recently.
The kind lady behind the desk assures me the bags will be delivered to Aaron’s inn by the end of the weekend. It’s an inconvenience, sure, but at least I don’t have to buy a whole new wardrobe.
“Maybe that’s your bad luck for the trip. And from here on out it’s all going to be about orgasms and adventure.”
I elbow her in the ribs. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Truth. Now, let’s go see if Aaron is as hot as we remember.”
The nerves roll back, and I take a deep breath. What if, through the haze of my childhood crush, I’d exaggerated his good looks? Except, it wasn’t only about his looks. It was his charisma. The way he captured the room’s attention without trying. His confidence and swagger. The way he always went out of his way to get to know people. His athleticism.
Boy, did he look great in his rugby uniform with the ball tucked under his arm as he sprinted to the try line. Those bulging veins and defined muscles.
As we walk toward the arrivals’ door, I keep fidgeting with my backpack. I catch my reflection in the window and smooth my hair.
“You look gorgeous.”
Embarrassed to be caught preening, I bump my shoulder against Celine. “Shut up.”
And then I see him.
You know what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder? Well, I wonder what absence does to the fun parts. I’m screwed. I didn’t exaggerate anything when it came to Aaron. If anything, my memory definitely dulled how attractive he really is. A toddler crashes into his legs, and he automatically reaches out to stabilise the child. The mother apologises profusely, then sort of just stares at him like a deer in the headlights.
I get it, lady. Believe me, I get it.
He steals the breath right out of my lungs, and I can’t take my eyes off him. Dressed simply in jeans and a black jacket over his white, muscle-hugging tee, he looks lickable…I mean gorgeous. No one should ever be allowed to look that good. It’s not fair to the rest of us. Is he pacing because he’s impatient? I guess we are the last people to come through from our flight. Aaron scowls and takes his phone out of his pocket. His eyes keep flicking to the board. He hasn’t spotted me yet because he isn’t looking past the doors. But I sure as hell spotted him.
“Holy fuck!” The words fall from Celine’s lips.
Yeah, she can say that again.
Holy fuck!