Page 118 of Seeds of Christmas
But out here, it’s quiet.
Just me and Rhi and the beginning of something new.
I kiss her as fireworks explode somewhere in the distance, and it feels like a promise. Not that everything will be perfect. Not that we won’t struggle. But that we’ll keep showing up. Keep trying. Keep choosing each other.
When we break apart, she’s smiling.
“Happy New Year,” she says.
“Happy New Year.”
We stand there in the cold, holding each other, and I think about everything that’s changed in the past two weeks.
We’re not fixed. We’re still figuring it out.
Jake bursts onto the deck, slightly drunk, grinning like an idiot. “There you are! Get in here! We’re doing the champagne toast!”
“We don’t drink champagne,” I point out.
“It’s sparkling cider from Trader Joe’s, but we’re calling it champagne because it sounds fancier.” He grabs my arm. “Come on. You can’t skip the toast. It’s tradition.”
I look at Rhi, and she nods. “Go. I want to see what passes for champagne at a frat house.”
Inside, someone’s passing around plastic cups filled with what is definitely sparkling cider. Jake thrusts two cups into our hands.
“Speech!” someone yells.
“No speech!” I yell back.
“Come on, man! You’re a legacy! You have to say something!”
I look around at all these guys—some of them I’ve known for years, some I barely know at all. They’re all looking at me expectantly.
“Alright, fine,” I say, and everyone cheers. “But it’s going to be short because I’m bad at speeches and also because this cider is already making me regret my choices.”
Laughter.
“I just want to say—” I pause, trying to find the words. “This year was really hard. Probably the hardest year of my life. And I spent most of it hiding. From you guys, from myself, from everything. But being here tonight, talking about Dom, remembering him with all of you—it reminded me why I joined this house in the first place.”
I look at Jake, at Marcus, at all the faces watching me.
“It’s not about the parties or the brotherhood speeches or any of that stuff. It’s about having people who show up. Who sit with you when you’re falling apart. Who tell you when you’re being an idiot. Who make you laugh even when everything feels terrible.” I raise my cup. “So here’s to showing up. To being honest. To being the kind of people who make other people glad they showed up too.”
“To showing up!” everyone echoes, raising their cups.
We drink the terrible sparkling cider, and it’s sweet and fizzy and absolutely not champagne.
But it’s perfect.
Later,when the party starts to wind down and people are either leaving or passing out on couches.
Some guy I don’t recognize is talking to Rhi. Standing too close. Making her laugh.
She’s being polite. I know her polite laugh now. It’s different from her real one.
But he doesn’t know that.
“You okay?” Jake asks, following my gaze.
