14. Chapter 14 #3
We spend the rest of the evening laughing and talking about anything but school.
I drink slowly and make an effort not to make too much eye contact with Torin because he gets skittish every time our gazes meet.
At some point, Professor Drummond gives a short speech congratulating everyone on a fine term and wishing us a happy Christmas and Hogmanay.
We raise our cups and toast. Maeve really wasn’t joking about the punch.
I’m not a huge drinker, but I’m also not a lightweight, literally or figuratively.
Still, I’m halfway through my third cup when I blow right past a buzz and land squarely in the “drunk” category.
The room seems a little brighter, the laughter louder.
When I take a step to the side, my foot meets the floor a split second before I think it should.
Time to go. Being inebriated in a professional setting is not a good look.
I set my cup down, then make my excuses at a lull in the conversation.
Maeve hugs me tight and makes me promise I’ll call her tomorrow.
Isla gives me a quick squeeze, and we wish each other happy holidays.
Then I turn to Torin. Without really thinking about it, I step forward and wrap my arms around him.
He hugs me back, and the contact sends a zing of longing deep in my chest that lingers even after we pull apart.
He’s fighting back a smile as I turn toward the door.
I exit the building and marvel at the beautiful night, crisp and cold with light snowfall dusting the city. I breathe in deeply, grinning ear to ear. Edinburgh is even more magical at Christmas with lights twinkling from the now familiar shops and pubs as I leave campus.
I’m still smiling as I get closer to home, my cheeks flushed from winter air and rum punch, as I realize I’m the happiest I’ve been since I arrived. A couple of months ago, I’d seriously considered packing everything up and going back to Texas for good. Now I’m glad I didn’t.
I don’t have my final grades back yet, but I know I’m doing better than before, and I’ve become close with my classmates, especially Maeve.
And then there’s Torin. I consider him a friend, and he’s certainly friendlier with me now than before.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out assuming it’s The Pigeons.
Torin
Hey
My face lights up brighter than my screen as I type a response.
Beau
Were your ears burning? I was just thinking about you.
Note to self: drunk texting is a terrible life choice. Three little dots appear as Torin begins typing, then vanish. A moment later they return, then disappear once more. I picture him staring at his phone, the way I am now. Nearly a full minute passes before my phone lights up again.
Torin
I don’t head home for another couple of days. Do you have time for a workout tomorrow?
I press my lips together, tamping down the giddy feeling in my stomach.
Beau
Sounds good. 9 AM?
His reply comes quickly this time.
Torin
See you there.
I grin even wider than before. I’ve taught him enough that he could go without me, he doesn’t need me there. Maybe it’s an excuse to spend more time with me.
The thought sparks a warm flicker of hope before I shake my head, keeping my expectations in check.
He just needs a gym buddy to keep him accountable.
Plenty of people prefer working out that way.
I can do that for him. Even if the mere thought of his muscles flexing as he lifts increasingly heavy weights sends heat rushing southward in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with exercise.
By the time I reach my house, the snowfall has thickened slightly, dusting the steps and railing with a thin layer of white.
I unlock the door and step inside, kick off my shoes, and pause to admire the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room.
The lights glow softly, reflecting off the ornaments I’d hung on the branches earlier in the week.
For a moment I just stand there. Then my body reminds me that rum punch is not a substitute for hydration.
I wander into the kitchen and pour myself a tall glass of water, drinking half of it in one go before refilling the glass and carrying it with me upstairs.
I change into pajamas, order delivery from my favorite Chinese restaurant, and pour myself some scotch before getting horizontal on the couch. I queue up a list of Christmas rom-coms on the TV and take a sip of the whisky.
This is my favorite time of year.
I relax, eat Peking duck, and watch as two enemies turn into lovers, one of the leads making a grand gesture before love conquers all.
I’ve seen hundreds of movies just like it, and I never tire of it.
In a world filled with so much chaos, there’s something comforting about these shows, where the ending is never really in doubt.
No matter how tangled things become along the way, you always know that by the final scene the two people who belong together will find their way there.
I put on another movie, fire crackling, tree shining, and try not to let my mind wander to Torin as I dream about my own happily ever after.