18. Gobble Gobble
Davi tells everyone that she’s spending Thanksgiving in Covington, Kentucky, with her mother and her mother’s “friend,” Saylem. Only Charley and East know the truth: Davi is staying at school.
It’s hypnagogic (“dreamlike”) watching everyone filter out of the dorms: Taylor is going back home to Philadelphia, Olivia H-T is “shipping up to Boston” (she plays the Dropkick Murphys song full blast in her room before departing).
Dub is spending the break at Hakeem’s house in Chicago (otherwise, Davi is pretty sure Dub would be staying here too).
East climbs into a black car; he’s spending Thanksgiving in the city with his father and his father’s girlfriend.
East told Davi that he’d invited Liam to go with him, but Liam decided to go to the city with Pippa instead.
Just thinking this makes Davi yank on her ponytail until it hurts.
She can’t seem to manage her crush on Liam; every time she sees him, it gets worse.
The day before, she found Liam alone on the Senior Sofa.
His blazer was off, his tie loosened, and he’d conformed to the well-established prep fashion statement of wearing his driving moccasins without socks. He was reading Flannery O’Connor.
When Davi described this tableau to Charley, she said, “There’s nothing hotter than a guy reading a woman writer.”
Davi had wanted to sit on his lap right then and there. But instead, she slipped away without even saying hey. What was the point? He was Pippa’s.
Davi watches Tilly Benbow climb into her parents’ Mercedes. They both came to drive her back to Greenwich.
When Charley pokes her head into Davi’s room, Davi’s attention is still out the window. “Tilly’s only taking one bag,” Davi says as she watches Tilly’s father load an L.L.Bean duffel into the trunk. “I heard a rumor she was leaving school for good.”
“We aren’t that lucky,” Charley says. She bends down to give Davi a hug. “I’m going now. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
Davi takes a moment to reconsider Charley’s offer.
Is she sure? Charley is taking the Tiffin van to the Springfield bus station, then a Greyhound to Boston and Amtrak to Baltimore.
The journey is an epic poem, but that’s not why Davi declined the invite.
She declined because she’s British, Thanksgiving isn’t her holiday, and she’s weary of dissembling (“concealing one’s true feelings”) and pretending she cares.
Would she like to see Charley’s house, meet her friend Beatrix, taste the turkey that Charley’s mother and her much-younger husband, Joey, are apparently deep-frying in the backyard?
“I’m all set,” Davi says. When Charley gives her a look, she adds, “I’ll be fine.”
“Take this,” Charley says, pressing a car key into Davi’s hand. “Black GMC, Back Lot. East trusts you; just remember we drive on the right here.”
“Thank you!” Davi feels a childish excitement. She has wheels!
“It’s breaking my heart imagining you alone on the holiest of family holidays,” Charley says.
Charley is a good friend. Davi kisses her cheek and pushes her out the door.
Davi isn’t the only student staying on campus.
Every year, approximately a dozen students stay put—international students like Davi, students who live out west, or students whose parents can’t afford two trips home in the span of a month.
An email went out detailing the Thanksgiving schedule: The Grille would stay open Wednesday night, but both the Paddock and the Grille would be closed Thursday and Friday.
The Grille would reopen Saturday for lunch, and the Paddock Sunday for dinner service.
The Wullys would be in residence—Mrs. in Classic South, Mr. taking over in Classic North—and they would host all Tiffin students for a Thanksgiving Open House at their home in Haydensboro beginning at 2 p.m. on Thursday.
Davi has heard stories about the Wullys’ Thanksgiving.
Mr. Wully, who hails from Detroit, paints his face blue and silver for the Lions game.
Students are rumored to be permitted half a glass of red wine with dinner, but the real goal is to befriend KJ and Topher, the Wullys’ grown sons, because they might invite you to the basement to do bong hits.
Davi has no intention of going to the Wullys’.
She’s determined to spend the holiday in a state of peaceful self-reflection.
She’s going to meditate and take a hot yoga class in Capulet Falls.
Davi needs to study for English, history, and most of all, pre-calc.
She has to get straight A’s this semester.
She has hair masks and teeth-whitening strips to apply.
This Thanksgiving break will be all about self-care.
The last stragglers leave campus as the sun sinks behind the Teddy.
(Now that it’s late November, the sun sets at four thirty.) Davi pokes her head out into the hallway and is met with a profound silence.
It’s almost eerie. Even in the middle of the night, there’s ambient sound: Madison R.
’s white noise machine, Willow’s dehumidifier, Alistair snoring on his dog bed in the common room.
Where is Mrs. Wully? Isn’t she supposed to be here? She’s probably only required to sleep at school, not hang out. She must be at home right now, making the stuffing or whatever.
Davi positions herself in front of her full-length mirror and pulls out her phone.
It’s her plan to document her entire solo break on TikTok.
Everyone else will be sharing videos of turkey, pie, football, and random high school beer parties in basement rec rooms. Compared to this, Davi’s solitude and self-reliance will be unexpected—and it’s always the unexpected takes that go viral.
Davi forces a smile into the mirror, though it looks like she’s in pain. “It’s the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and I’ve decided to forgo food and family, opting to stay at Tiffin by myself instead…”
She presses pause. Her COMPARISONS ARE ODIOUS sign is in the frame intentionally, just as it has been for every video Davi has posted all year.
It’s more relevant today than ever—Thanksgiving content is one-upmanship masquerading as wholesome Americana—but for some reason, Davi doesn’t want the sign in her video.
She adjusts the angle of her camera and starts over, but only gets a couple of words in before she stops again.
She doesn’t want to document her Thanksgiving break.
It won’t be groundbreaking or inspirational; it will just be sad.
Davi isn’t with her family because her family is hot garbage.
Her parents are divorcing, her father is in London, her mother is considering a move to Cincinnati permanently because Saylem wants to live closer to her parents.
Davi unplugs her neon sign, pulls her room-darkening shades against the fiery sunset, and climbs into bed. Can she reasonably go to sleep at five in the afternoon?
She’s tired is the thing.
When she wakes up, she thinks it’s the middle of the night… but it’s only seven thirty.
Omg, she thinks. This weekend is going to be way longer than she anticipated.
The Grille is closing at eight, so Davi throws on sneakers and a coat and races to the Teddy. Her ponytail is askew, and she’s wearing only steps one and two of her makeup routine—moisturizer and primer—but it hardly matters since there’s no one around. In fact, it’s liberating.
Except there is someone around. When Davi rushes into the Grille, she sees Liam sitting by himself in a booth, crushing a chicken Caesar wrap and sweet potato tots.
He brightens when he sees her. “Davi!”
She should have put on mascara, lip gloss. She should have brushed her hair.
Behind the counter, Trish calls out, “You eating, sweetie? The usual?”
Davi gives Trish the thumbs-up. Her usual is a chicken Caesar wrap with sweet potato tots.
“Hey!” she says to Liam. She checks her phone; it’s ten of eight. “You haven’t left yet?”
Liam wipes his mouth with a napkin and pushes up his glasses. “I’m staying here.”
“I heard you were going to the city with Pippa.”
Liam shakes his head. “I changed my mind.”
“But doesn’t her father’s office have views of the Macy’s parade?” Davi asks. East told her this, and also that Erik Sacks throws a legendary night-before-Thanksgiving party at the Polo Bar that Ralph Lauren himself attends.
“Something like that, I think,” Liam says.
“My pop always works Thanksgiving so he can get Christmas off… so we don’t do the whole big turkey thing.
” Liam considers his tots. “I just wasn’t sure how I’d explain to him that I’d be in the city with someone else’s family.
He wouldn’t like it, he’d insist I stay at home, and Pippa wanted me to stay with her. The whole thing would have been messy.”
“Yeah,” Davi says. “I can see that.”
“Here you go, Davi sweetie,” Trish calls out. “Grab a drink from the cooler, I’m closing up. I have sixteen people coming to my house tomorrow, one vegan, three gluten-free, god help me. I need to get home.”
“Of course,” Davi says, picking up her tray. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Gobble gobble,” Trish says. She pulls the metal grate down over the counter and disappears.
Davi slides into the booth across from Liam. “I can’t believe you’re staying.”
“I can’t believe you’re staying.” He frowns. “Is it because your parents are getting divorced?”
“Kind of, yeah,” Davi says. “I had places to go, but I just didn’t want to have to pretend.”
“I thought it might be cool here without any people,” Liam says. “But not gonna lie, I was worried I made the wrong decision. Until I saw you. We can hang out, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Davi says. “We can.”
After dinner, they stroll back to the dorms, Davi on the lookout for Mr. James in the Gator until she remembers he’s gone, he spends every Thanksgiving with his daughter in Missouri. There’s only one light on in Classic South on the second floor and a couple more lights in Classic North.