“This right here,” she says, gripping my arm and gesturing around us, “is why your idea of exchange students is exactly what we need. I may have wrongly heard or interpreted that aligning þórðargleði University with Rainbow Dorset University meant a lot of changes to get to where you are. But you’re saying what we have is already great. We can just be greater. We’ve stopped growing and reaching for the stars. We’ve been satisfied that a few local businesses get involved with Community Day. We’ve become complacent, and that’s not what we should be doing. We should always be evolving and getting better. Reaching more people.”
“That’s exactly what I mean, Einar. Yes!”
She sighs. “I think we’d reach the stars if you stayed here for a semester.”
“I have confidence that you can reach the stars without me. Especially now that we’ve closed the language barrier.”
Einar laughs. “We speak very good English.”
“You do, but we can pretend your Icelandic roots and my crass American English explain our miscommunication on the mission of sister schools.”
“I like that. It’s a single word that makes all the difference,” she says. “We’ve been saying change is coming, and that can still be true. But we’re not trying to take Iceland out of þórðargleði University. We’re getting ready to expand on what we have and loudly promote the safety and inclusivity of being a queernormative university.”
“Definitely. Don’t take Iceland out of þórðargleði. This is who you are as much as being queer.” I pause. “I just realized that the only people in the room who said they were queer are those of us from America.”
“I think that’s because in Iceland, there’s not as much emphasis on being queer. It’s who you are, and that’s fine. You use queernormative as a way to describe your campus becauseyou struggle within a toxic straight-normative country to find a place where you’re free to be who you are. We don’t have that issue here. We just are. There’s no need for either of those words.”
“It’s impossible to imagine what it would be like to live in a place like that. An entire country.”
“Where everyone is considered normal,” Einar says, shrugging.
“Sounds fake.”
She laughs.
CHAPTER 22
KENDRICK
Today is the first day since arriving in Iceland that I’ve not kept Brevan in sight. He wandered off with one of the young women from þórðargleði University, a smile on his face and a hot beverage in his hand, as soon as we arrived.
I muse how, at one time in my life, I might have been filled with concern that he’s taken an interest in someone else. But in the very short time I’ve gotten to know Brevan, I can’t say I believe that about him. He’s doing exactly what he’s here to do—being an RDU ambassador.
As a group, we stay at the Community Day event until mid-afternoon. I wander around with different students throughout the day, as well as Magnus and his staff. Their Community Day reminds me of our festival, but on a smaller, colder scale.
There’s a unique, enchanted feeling about being here when there’s snow on the ground. I’m impressed that snow doesn’t stop them from enjoying the outdoors. I can’t say that I’d feel the same way, but then again, this is their country. This is their culture. Snow and cold are something everyone here has grown up with.
It’s a little chilly for me, though, so I’m glad there isn’t an icy wind today.
I get on the shuttle bus at 3:15 with eight of my ten students, Byndley, and Katai. Zarek said he was going to stay behind with Mercy and Sarabeth.
Brevan gives me a smile as soon as he sees me, and my heart flutters. He’s sitting with Xile, who happily talks about the reindeer and the event we just left. Their enthusiasm makes me smile as I listen to the two of them converse.
When we arrive downtown, I try not to watch to see the direction Brevan goes in, but when he meets my eye and smiles, I can’t stop myself from following his path, though I try to keep my distance and allow him to spend time with his peers without my company.
I lose track of Brevan for a bit while I’m in a shop with Samuel and Corwin. The two together are comedic as they create a skit for literally anything they pick up. It’s typically ridiculous.
I veer away from them when I come upon a pharmacy where I can likely find condoms and lubricant. My phone says it’s eight when I stumble upon Brevan sitting in a café. He appears to be alone, so I step inside. His eyes meet mine, and he smiles, cheeks flushed.
“You okay?”
“Yep. Just resting. It’s been a long day.”
“It has,” I agree. “Mind if I join you?”
Brevan nods, and I take a seat at the small table with him. He slides his plate of cookies toward me, and I accept one.
“I’m tired,” Brevan admits. “I’m no stranger to a lot of exercise and exertion on any given day, but this is probably the longest I’ve been on my feet.”
