twenty-one
JONAH
How Did It End - Taylor Swift
“Okay, I have to admit, that got a lot more fun.” I crashed back into my seat, still a little out of breath.
“I told you!”
She’d dragged me up for every single dance. Even when half the village sat in their chairs, deeming the dances too difficult, she took to them like a natural. I let her swing me around time and time again, the world around us slowing to a crawl each time I looked at her.
“Do you want to get some air?” she asked. “It’s a little hot in here.” Her blonde hair had gotten a little messier as the night had gone on, the humidity of the room getting to it, but I liked it nonetheless.
Liked her a little ruffled up, a little smudged.
“Sure.” I grabbed my jacket, throwing it over my shoulder in case she got cold, watching with a sneaking smile as Kit grabbed the bottle of prosecco by the neck and tucked it under her arm to smuggle out. I threw a quick nod to Archie, who currently had his five-year-old clambering on top of him.
“Don’t take too long,” he shouted after us. “It’s almost the bells.”
We emerged from the packed room, a welcome chill immediately chasing away the heat and sweat. The street was nearly empty, a fresh blanket of snow lying on the ground, the light from the antique street lamps cutting through the inky darkness.
I watched as she turned to her left, found a group of very merry people, and charmed them into giving her a cigarette, leaning in as they lit it for her.
She smiled at me. “You don’t mind, do you? There’s something about a rare drunk smoke.”
I shook my head, watching as she pulled another deep inhale, her eyes closing as her breath escaped in a puff of condensation, her shoulders relaxing. Then, her attention scanned the street. “I’ve learned to love this, you know?”
I followed her out onto the street, the music dying behind us. “The cold?”
She smiled cheekily, taking a sip straight from the bottle she’d nabbed, before whispering, “The quiet.” Her head twisted around to me, her eyes finding mine. “I hated it when I first got here. Missed all the traffic and trains and people and the noise.”
“Now?”
A smile grew across her face, dying slightly as she admitted, “Now, I’m not sure how I’ll sleep with all the racket.”
I stepped to her side, looking out along the dark street, the rows of houses, each with their living room light on. I could see it, imagine it, families counting down to the new year.
Could that still be us one day?
“Are you having fun?” I asked, reaching my hand out to hers, taking the cigarette from her and placing it between my lips. I hadn’t smoked since college, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Yes,” she chuckled, almost to herself. “The Scots really know how to celebrate Hogmanay.”
“What do you normally do?”
“Oh, you know, the typical big holiday event.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “There’s always a horribly outrageous drama going on, and the food is always fantastic, and the champagne is endless. Don’t get me started on the gift bags. One time, I got a Rolex.”
I laughed, taking another drag. “Sounds like fun.”
“It can be. Sometimes, it’s also a little sad.” She took another sip from the bottle, her gaze avoiding mine completely. “Being in a crowded room where everyone you’re talking to is only interested in your fame, the clout. Like that’s the only thing that matters there.”
My heart sank for her, like I could really feel everything she felt. Not only that, but I wanted to know, so I could relate. Instead, I passed her the cigarette, letting her take the last of it.
“Here, it’s different,” she said, letting it burn out in her fingers, her attention on me instead. “It’s genuine. Nobody has asked me about home. I’m unsure if they don’t know or don’t care. Everyone will have a chat or a dance, and it’s real. It’s a connection.”
“I like that too,” I admitted, reaching for the bottle and taking a swig. “Everyone’s a neighbour.”
“Exactly,” she said. “How about you? Are you enjoying yourself?”
