by Jacob Chance
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She smirks.
“Yes, I would. That’s why I asked the question.”
“I guess you’ll have to wait and find out,” she teases. Is she flirting with me?
“Hopefully, I won’t be waiting too long.”
She shrugs nonchalantly. “We’ll see.”
“How long have you been dancing?” I’ve been wondering since the first time I saw her on stage. She’s a natural.
“I’ve been taking ballet and jazz since I was six. The modern dance and aerial performing started a few years ago in high school. I got bored with practicing the same old thing and instead of quitting, my mother had me try some new classes.”
“You look like you’ve been doing it forever. I was really impressed with your level of skill.”
“Thank you. The aerial stuff is my favorite and I love performing with Joe.”
“The guy you danced with the other night?”
“Yep. The one and only.”
“Are you two romantically involved?”
She snorts, “No.”
“Have you ever been?”
“Hell, no. He’s like an older brother to me. There’s zero romantic feelings between us. He has a girlfriend I adore.”
“She doesn’t get jealous that he puts his hands all over your body?” Just observing them for a few minutes drove me to anger.
“Nope. She’s spent enough time with the three of us together that she’s aware we’re like siblings.”
“How long have you and Joe been dancing together?” I don’t even like saying his name.
“About two years, but we’ve been in the same dance classes forever.”
“So you grew up together?”
“Yep. Which is why he’s like an older brother to me.” I’m relieved there’s no romance there, past or present. I have enough competition for her affection with the entire student population at B.U.
“Did you and Eliza always plan to go to the same college?”
“Yeah, we’ve been two peas in a pod for as long as I can remember. We went to the same private schools, so attending the same college was the next logical step for us.” She reaches forward, turning the cabin temperature thermostat down. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d want as a roommate besides her. We always have each other’s back and there’s no unnecessary roommate drama that most girls have to deal with.”
“No drama, huh? You guys don’t sound like most of the girls I’ve met.”
“We’re a couple of originals.”
“That’s the impression I’m getting.”
“Okay, enough questions about me. Why’d you choose B.U.?” Perri fires back at me.
“They offered me a full scholarship. But it wasn’t really that as much as it was that I’ve always wanted to play for the Terriers. And Boston is where I’ve always wanted to go to school. My parents brought me to the city when I was thirteen and I’ve never forgotten that weekend.”
“Is it living up to your expectations?”
“Yeah, absolutely. I wish our season ended better, but Coach and the guys on the team have been awesome. I feel like I fit right in from day one and that’s not how most teams are.”
“How did you end up in the frat? Or did you always want to be a part of it?”
I shake my head as if she can see. “No. I had no intention of joining a frat. It’s not really my thing, or at least I didn’t think it would be. When I first got here in the summer the guys on the team told me I should join and when I looked into it, I decided it was a good idea. There’s always someone to do stuff with and I get my own room. Since mine is in the basement, I can get away from everyone when I want to be alone.”
“I guess I can see how it might be nice to have friends from day one and not have to go through the awkwardness of trying to meet them.”
“There’s a camaraderie I really enjoy. It’s like being on the football team, but different.” Glancing at the clock, I realize we’ve been in the car for over an hour. I can’t believe how fast the time has flown and no awkward conversation lags or not knowing what to say. This is the most comfortable I’ve been with a girl, possibly ever.
Perri flips on the radio, adjusting the channel to one that plays Christmas music. Her eyes sweep in my direction before returning to the highway stretching out in front of us. “How do you feel about my music selection?”
“I love Christmas music.”
“For real?”
“Yep. What’s not to like? It’s entertaining and helps to get me in the holiday spirit.”
“Do you need help with finding Christmas spirit?”
“Eh, maybe sometimes. I love Christmas, but I always get depressed when it’s over. Most people like welcoming the new year, but for me, I get a little maudlin saying goodbye to the present one.”
She remains quiet, her eyes on the road. Does she think my answer is too weird for a reply? Maybe I shouldn’t have been so honest with her. Fuck that. I am who I am. Take me as I am, or leave me.
“I’ve never really thought about it, but you might be right. When Christmas and New Year’s are over, I always feel a little low.”
“Then it’s not just me?”
“Nope. And we can’t be the only ones who feel this way. Like when the days get shorter people get depressed. And depression rates go up during the holidays; I did a paper on it for my psychology class. But that’s not what we’re talking about.”
“Right. This is about the big letdown when all the excitement is over. And there’s something intimidating about standing on the precipice of the new year and not knowing what it’s going to bring you. I try to be optimistic and assume it will be positive things, but good people aren’t exempt from bad shit happening to them.”
“I agree with everything you’re saying. I’ve always felt this way and assumed I was the odd ball for doing so.”
“I don’t know about you, but it’s comforting to discover I’m not the only one who goes through this.”
“Right. And this year we can help each other out.”
“Want to spend New Year’s with me? We can do something really fun and take our minds off everything.” I try to keep the hopeful tone from my voice, but it’s not easy. I want her to say yes, so I’ll get to spend time with her after this week is over. Seeing her in passing isn’t enough and I can’t stalk her at Score every night, no matter how tempting that thought is.
“The frat usually has a huge party, I imagine you’ll want to attend that.”
“I don’t think drinking is the answer that night. Let’s figure out something fun to do, just the two of us.”
She smiles and gives a succession of quick nods. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Chapter Nine
Perri
I’m glad Nolan is with me. The last part of the trip is confusing as the roads wind around making it difficult to tell which direction I came from. He tells me to take the next left and the only indication there’s a driveway tucked in between the trees is the large rectangular bronze plaque that says ‘Archer Way’, mounted on a wide trunk.
The thick woods shield both sides of the driveway, allowing in little light. The long, snow covered branches arch, meeting in the center, forming a white canopy above us. It feels as though we’ve entered an enchanted forest where magic is possible.
“What kind of trees are these?” I ask in awe of their majesty.
“They’re Dutch elm trees and one of the reasons my parents built our house on this particular plot of land. In the nineteen thirties a tiny beetle began feasting on the bark and spreading a killer fungus. A lot of the Dutch elm trees were wiped out from the northeast.”
“I wasn’t aware of that.”
“There’s your new fact for the day,” he chuckles. “But as odd as it may sound, there was already a trail where this road is. It’s as if the trees grew into a tunnel in hopes that someone would one day make a road between them.” In my periphery I see him shake his head.<
br />
“What?”
“Nothing. I didn’t mean to get all philosophical about nature on you.”
Casting a quick glance in his direction, I smile. “I like what you told me. Don’t forget I’m a writer and a journalism major. I’m used to looking below the surface for the details. This isn’t really so different. It’s nice to see beauty instead of taking it for granted.”
Abruptly, the thick blanket of trees surrounding both sides of the car ends as the road inclines upward. I gasp when I catch sight of the house sitting high on the rocky hill. Enormous and Adirondack in style, the cedar shingle siding fits right in with the surrounding nature. A long second story balcony runs across the front of the house and Nolan points for me to drive underneath the structure. I pull up beside a shiny Ford Explorer.
“Park here. We don’t have a garage for the cars, because this keeps them from getting covered in snow. However, we do have an outbuilding that houses our toys.”
“This is gorgeous, Nolan.” I shift into park and shut off the engine, glancing at the abundance of of land in front of me.
“Thank you. I love this place.”
“When you say toys, what do you mean?”
“Snowmobiles, ATV’s, and a lot of other things that come in handy when you live on a mountain.”
“Gotcha. Sounds like this is going to be an adventure filled few days.”
“That’s the plan, anyway. I’ve got a lot of places I want to show you.”
“Show me?” I point at myself.
“Show you all.”
Why do I feel disappointed at his answer? Do I want him to have special places he only wants to show me? Yes. Yes I do. Stop it. Boys come and go, but a friend can be forever and Nolan is the kind of person who I’d like to keep in my life.
We slip from the vehicle and begin to empty the hatch. I place each of my bags down on the pavement and wait for Nolan to clear his out before closing the back. Leaning down, I scoop my bags up and Nolan scowls.
“Here, let me have those.” He holds out his hand, waiting for me to hand them off to him.
“I’ve got them. You’ve got your own to carry.”
“Perri, don’t start. I can come back and get mine. You’re my guest and you’re not letting me show off my stellar manners.” He grins, flashing a peek at a dimple in his left cheek. Oh no. Not a dimple. How can he possibly be any more attractive? And how have I missed seeing that adorable circular dip in his cheek?
“Okay.” I comply without arguing. “Lead me where you must, Jeeves.”
He slings a bag over each of his broad shoulders. “Thank you, my lady. Right this way, please.” I follow behind as he leads me to a door and punches in a code on a keypad. He turns the knob and we step inside a mud room with wall to wall cubbies with hooks and shelves to place your winter gear.
“You can leave your boots here. Pick one of the empty slots and it’s yours.” He slips outside to grab his bags and drops them down on the floor. “Once you unpack you can bring your jacket down here if you want. We use this area as a dressing room before we go skiing, and when we come home it helps to leave all the wet boots in here. My mom goes apeshit if the floors in the house are wet. Especially if she steps in a puddle with her socks.”
I laugh, “I can’t say I blame her. Who likes wet socks?” I sink down onto one of the seats inside the tall cubby and yank my Ugg boots off one at a time. Tucking them in the open space beneath the seat, I rise and watch as Nolan kicks his sneakers into one of the cubbies. “Where to now, Jeeves?”
“I’m going to show you to your room.” We step from the mud room into a large entertainment area with panelling on the bottom half of the walls. A large granite bar is set off to one side, the mirrored wall behind it has the Archer family crest and coat of arms in the center.
I wander over and take a closer look, noticing the three arrows evenly spaced on the bottom.
“Hey, there are no detours on this tour,” Nolan jokes.
“This is a great idea.” I gesture to the mirror.
“Yeah, I like it too. I want to get it tattooed on me at some point.”
“Do you have any tattoos?”
“One, so far. I have the Terriers logo on the left side of my chest like most of the football team.”
“Do you have to get that one?”
“No, it’s not required. I did it because playing for the Terriers has always been my dream since I first thought about going to college. And my teammates are my brothers on the field and no matter where life takes us, we’ll always have that bond.”
“That’s really sweet for a group of badass ball players. Who knew you guys were so deep?”
He laughs, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
The furniture in this room looks so comfortable. I want to sink down onto the large sectional and take a nap or watch a movie on the giant screen mounted to the wall. There’s a tall bookcase and the shelves are filled with novels. I can’t wait to browse the titles later.
“What are all these doors for?” I question, pointing at the three doors running along the far side of the room.
“Two of those are bedrooms and one is the bathroom.”
“Why don’t I just stay down here?”
“No way.” He shakes his head. “I’m putting the guys down here. There are two beds in each room. This way they can make as much noise as they want and we won’t hear them upstairs.”
I smile. “Good plan. I have a feeling there won’t be much sleeping going on down here.”
“You’d be right. I already know they’re going to clean the bar out of liquor. My dad told me not to worry about it. He said he’ll replenish it when they get home.”
“Your parents don’t mind that you’re having company while they’re out of town?”
“Nope. As long as the house is still standing afterward they’ll be happy.”
“Where are your parents again?”
“China, for a month.”
“What does your father do for work that keeps him out of the country for so long?”
“He’s a gynecologist.” To his credit he keeps his expression flat. I, however, am not able to do the same. I dig my front teeth into the middle of my bottom lip until it’s painful. “My parents are on vacation, not a work trip. Since my brother and I have gotten older they’ve become more comfortable leaving us alone for longer periods of time.”
“Nice. With a doctor for a father I guess you’re not in danger of starving any time soon.”
He laughs, “No, definitely not.” He raises a brow at me, asking an unvoiced question.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re not going to crack a joke about my dad’s occupation?”
“It’s a little unorthodox, but someone has to do that job.” I hold my hands palm up.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the life my parents have provided for me. I hope I can do the same for my kids someday. But it’s a little weird explaining what my dad does for work.”
“You want kids?” Why does the thought of him wanting to be a father surprise me? He’s the steadfast kind of guy who’ll settle down with a woman and make lots of babies. The little boys will all resemble Nolan.
“Yeah, don’t you?” His question snaps me out of my Nolan baby making musings.
“Not any time soon, but someday I do.” He smiles at my answer like he’s personally invested in the future I mentioned.
He tips his head toward the staircase along the back wall. “Come on. These bags are getting heavy.”
I giggle, “Poor baby. Want me to carry them?” I flex my arm.
“I’ve got them,” he calls over his shoulder as he climbs the carpeted stairs. I ramble behind him checking out the various family pictures mounted on the wall.
“Come on, slow poke.”
“I’m looking at baby Nolan. You’ve really thinned out.”
He barks out a laugh. “I looked like the Michelin baby. My parents fe
d me too much.”
My gaze moves on to the next picture and I find a much leaner Nolan holding a snowboard. I tap my fingernail on the frame. “How old were you in this one?”
“I think I was around six.”
“You were already snowboarding?”
“You don’t grow up on a mountain and not take advantage of it. At least that was the logic my parents subscribed to.”
“I guess mine would’ve done the same if we lived here.”
“Come on up here so I can put these damn bags down, woman.”
“Good help is hard to find.” I close the distance between us. The staircase opens on the side of the enormous main living space. There are couches and chairs grouped around a huge stone fireplace. The slate floors have a large, colorful area rug to warm up the bare floors. With the absence of walls to divide the space, there’s a large rectangular area of lower cabinets covered by a wooden counter that encloses the kitchen from the rest of the space.
Walking around, I pick up a small hand carved deer and study it closely. The wood is smoothed to the point of feeling like silk and the intricate details are astounding. Placing it down on the table behind the sofa, I run my fingers over an old, cracked leather bound bible. Is this one of those old family bibles that tells the history of all the births and deaths? Curiosity has my fingertips tingling as I fight the urge to be nosy.
Forcing myself to walk over to the kitchen area, my eyes trek around the space once more before landing on Nolan. “This house is amazing. This room might be my dream space. A giant fireplace, comfortably worn leather furniture, and this island.” I run my fingertips over the smooth, lacquered wood. “This inspires me to want to cook a five course meal.”
“You’re welcome to get creative in this kitchen anytime you want to. I never turn down a home cooked meal.”
“Oh my God,” I squeal. “Don’t even get me started on these stools. How fucking cool are these?” Climbing up on the wooden seat, I trace my fingers over the four points of the chair backs. “Where did you find these? I’ve never seen anything like them.”
“My dad and I made them from old skis we had.” His smile is laced with pride, as it should be. The backs of each stool are made from the pointed ends; four to each chair. The bright colors add some whimsicality to offset the natural materials that were utilized when this house was built. “Is that the only thing you guys made?”
