“Hold the fuck up,” I say. “One, we’ve done nothing that would lead to baby making, just like everything else. Two, this is just a temporary arrangement.”
“Yeah, we’ll see how temporary it is when you’re both back in the city and don’t have that stupid article as an excuse for you to not be together officially anymore.” And I know if I could see her, she’d be waggling her brows at me.
“Iris.” My traitorous voice cracks. “He’s staying here. That’s the only reason he and I got physical at all. This is just fun.”
“God, this is just like you.” Which is probably the last thing I expect her to say.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demand.
“You push him away when you think he’ll be around and only let yourself have something with him when you know it’s going to end. I’m happy to move around with you, stick by you, but it’s frustrating to see you just shove good things away because you’re scared. I know about the admissions emails you get, Henri.”
“You know?”
“Of course I know. You’re always on your damn email and our apartment is really fucking small. I’ve tried to be encouraging, but it’s hard when you’re not just lying to me, but it feels like you’re lying to yourself too.”
“Great. Thanks for telling me howyoufeel about me being fucking terrified of one of the biggest commitments of my life.” The truth tears out of me.
“Anytime,” she bites out.
I press the red end call button so hard that I’m surprised I don’t crack my screen. While I’m thinking of it, I check the tracking info for the gift. The email says it’s out for delivery, and even though I’m pissed at Iris, I forward her the tracking number.
I’m about to close my email when, of course, a new damn admissions reminder pops up at the top. I toss my phone into the nearest snow bank, but the light swish it makes on impact is vastly unsatisfying. I want to kick something, and due to the fact my options are the lamppost next to me and more snow, I’m shit out of luck.
Instead, I just stare up at the grey sky as heavy, snow-laden clouds swiftly block out the remaining blue. “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” ends and gives way to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”
A bell chimes behind me and shoes crunch in the snow before stopping next to me and I know it’s Liam without looking.
“You know, I hate this bit of the song,” I say to the sky, fighting the stinging at the back of my eyes. “Fuck the fates. Why do they get to allow anything? You can plan all you want, but one winter storm or little mishap and your fucked during the holidays. It’s not fair.”
“Any particular reason you’ve been possessed by the spirit Ebenezer Scrooge in the last ten minutes since I saw you?” Liam asks as he crouches down, hand dipping into the snow toretrieve my phone. He wipes the screen, pulling his sleeve up over his hand and rubbing the glass with his palm. Once done, he inspects it and jerks back. “Henri, did you see this?” He tilts the screen so I can see the email.
“Yup. I’ve had my admissions letter waiting for weeks now. I get one of those emails every day,” I explain, over hiding shit. What does it matter?
“Okay.”
“That’s it? No lecture? No you’re being a stupid coward, Henri?” I demand, throwing my hands in the air, even though it’s not him I’m mad at. I’m not even mad at Iris—she’s not to blame. Hell, she’s followed me everywhere.
I’m mad at myself. Why can’t I just go for it? I know I want that life in New York, I feel it deep in my chest. And yet, I can’t take this final step. Pathetic and scared.
“Seems like you’ve got all that covered already. Though, I suggest not throwing your phone in the snow. I mean they claim these are waterproof now, but I’m pretty sure that’s a lie.” He holds out my phone to me and I grab it, but he doesn’t let go. As his grip remains firm, he drags me to him until I’m wrapped in his arms.
I bury my face into the thick cable knit of his sweater and say to his chest, “I’m really scared. What if I’ve put in all this work and I’m not enough? Or if I do get in and go through all of it and my life is fucking terrible and I just have to live with the fact that I feel cheated by all of it?”
A hand ghosts over my hair to comfortingly clutch the nape of my neck. “You are enough. A school doesn’t get to determine that. And I can’t promise that it will all work out, but those fates you’re so mad at? Sometimes they do let things just work out. But you don’t know if you don’t try.” He scoffs a laugh, a quick rise and fall of his chest against me. “I know I’m a fucking hypocrite for saying any of this shit, but you’re betterthan I am, Henri. I’ve never had to worry about a damn thing. I always knew I’d end up running this place; I’ve never had to risk anything.”
“Do something terrifying with me, Liam?” I ask. “Take a risk?”
“I’ll make a deal with you.”
“Another one?”
“Well, you hate gifts and favors, so equivalent deals seem to be the only way to convince you to do anything.”
“Money,” I joke so I don’t have to acknowledge the hum of pleasure that rolls through me that comes from being understood.
“But only if you feel like you’ve earned it.” He lowers his head and whispers, “I know you like to work for the things that make you feel good.”
“Oh fuck off.” I bury myself in his sweater again as my cheeks flame.
