Richie: Why’s that?
Einstein: He’s dating my brother and it’s been a while since they’ve seen each other. So I get it. It’s just … hard.
Richie: Yeah that does sound sort of shitty.
Einstein: We had a bit of a fight a few weeks ago that we’re over now, but that never used to happen with us.
Richie: Friendships are hard.
Einstein: Sorry, totally killing the mood here.
Richie: Don’t be sorry. I want to know this stuff about you. If it helps, my best friend got engaged a little bit ago but he only told me about it over the summer. He’s the one dude I ever kissed. So I’ve gotta assume the dynamic has changed there, but we’ll see.
Einstein: Well yeah, for one, I’d assume there’s no more kissing.
Richie: Lucky I found another guy to kiss. Eventually. When he’s ready. Any chance you’ll be ready by Thanksgiving? Instead of spending it alone, we could spend turkey day together … Or not. Up to you.
Einstein: I’ll think about it, but …
Richie: I won’t get my hopes up. I guess I’ll have to wander around campus and hope a wild turkey somewhere is looking up at the sky and drowning so he can be my dinner.
Einstein: I looked up your drowning turkey trivia, you know. Total lie made up by farmers. So we’ll need to find another way to get the bird on the table.
Richie: Damn. Looks like I need to find another spirit animal.
Einstein: Is it technically cannibalism if you eat your own spirit animal?
Richie: Don’t get too philosophical on me. It hurts my brain. Maybe I am a turkey.
Einstein: At least you know not to look up at the sky when it’s raining. Your spirit animal should be one step higher than drowning turkey.
Richie: That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.
9
Seth
Saying goodbye to my parents and Zach the day before Thanksgiving is when it hits me that I’m about to spend my first holiday alone.
I honestly didn’t think it would bother me. Turns out, it does. My dumb ass should have gone to Montreal.
I told them a week ago I wouldn’t be able to make it—that I’m taking the short break to catch up on some research, but that was a lie. The plan was to build the courage to ask Richie to meet me seeing as I know he’s staying in town, but I’ve yet to even mention it to him, and I can’t bring myself to do it.
I spend most of Thanksgiving moping around my place feeling sorry for myself. Tyson and my other friends have gone to see their families as well, so I have to deal with the fact I’m chickenshit on my own.
My family calls to check in around lunchtime, and then … hours of nothing. UVM is doing a Thanksgiving lunch for people who can’t go home, but I can’t think of anything worse than sitting in a cafeteria surrounded by other people in equally shitty moods as me.
My phone is burning a hole in my pocket. I want to message Richie, but then I’ll have to tell him the truth. I didn’t go to Montreal, but I’m still not ready to meet him.
Meeting face-to-face will change things. Hopefully for the better, but the sick weight in my stomach is giving me doubts. Richie is almost too perfect.
If he meets me and suddenly all he sees is Foster, I’m going to be pissed. If we meet, and the attraction isn’t there, it’s going to devastate me. Because I really, really like this guy.
And given my track record with relationships, it’s more likely to fail than not.
My phone buzzes with a message.
Richie: Happy turkey day!
Einstein: Gobble, gobble.
Richie: Okay, you can’t say ‘gobble’ and expect me to not think about sex.
Einstein: The hardships of a horndog.
Richie: It’s a rough life.
Einstein: So what are you up to? Turns out this whole spending the holidays solo isn’t the fun time I was envisioning.
Nerves stir in my gut as I reread what I’ve typed. I’m alone. Which means I didn’t go with my family. Will he pick up on that?
Richie: I’d know. I spend most of them here. I’ve learned that it’s easier to either go out and get drunk, or pretend like they’re not happening. The holidays are the one time I actually study.
Einstein: Yikes. Well, I study always so I was actually hoping to have some time off.
Richie: Drunk, it is then.
I wait for him to ask to join me. He doesn’t. I try not to be disappointed because this is what I wanted, but there’s a niggling feeling that maybe he doesn’t actually want to meet.
My head drops forward because now I’m confusing myself. How I can be so desperate to know him and yet so terrified at the thought that I can’t even suggest a drink or two?