Say Yes To Forever

Chapter Thirteen

Taking up the largest table at Duke’s, I have my textbooks, notebooks, pencils, erasers, and highlighters across every inch. The Monday after Thanksgiving was a cold, hard slap in the face, and now I only have six days and sixteen hours until final exams start. Though I’d much rather be doing this at the kitchen table or even on my bedroom floor, Mama’s there, and I just don’t want to deal with her.

She knew I hadn’t come back to the house Thursday night ‘cause she left a voicemail Friday morning “you weren’t there for me to tell you that I’m pulling double shifts this week.” To which I texted back ‘ok’. Nothing more, nothing less, no excused nor lies.

After Tori had left the kitchen, I’d curled up on the bench under the bay window. Not quite ready to sleep, but well on my way, I let myself daydream of things to come… of things I’d want to come: a life with Cyrus. Our lives completely intertwined where we couldn’t tell where one began and one ended. We’d get our own little house, we’d work towards our degrees and careers, his family’d be my family, and we’d travel wherever, whenever.

In those daydreams, one thing is clear, one thing that makes me pause studying and look down at my left hand. In those daydreams it’d been more than just us sharing our lives, it’d been us building our lives with the foundation of marriage. I guess the sentiment ‘if you know, you know’ is true ‘cause the idea of being his soție – his wife isn’t scary, in fact, it’s rather thrilling.

The skidding of metal against tile brings me back to reality. I look up to find Nikki in the seat to my right, a massive backpack shoved against her chest. “I’m not going to make it.”

I chuckle, “Oh, com’on… it’s only the first semester, and it’s over in two weeks.”

She lets her backpack fall to the floor with a thud. “Ughh,” She pushes some of my notes away so she can lay her face down on the cool tabletop, “that’s my point. Finals are already killing me.”

In all the years I’ve known Nikki, since the very first day of first grade, she’s never been one for tests of any kind. Maybe it’s the time limit, maybe it’s the amount of material, maybe it’s the pressure, but she absolutely hates any kind of test. Spelling quizzes, algebra tests, mid-terms in Art History, finals in Sub-human Anthropology, it doesn’t matter. Especially now when exams are so heavy-handed in the final grade, she’s all but ready to drop out.

I wave Louis over for a couple of fresh mugs of coffee. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Slouching back against her chair, she holds the mug near her chest with two hands. “Nah. I’m pretty confident I’m going to pass everything so…” and she takes a long drink of coffee.

That’s something else about Nikki, that I accepted long ago, that she doesn’t particularly care about getting A’s, or even B’s, she just wants to pass. It’s a shame, really, ‘cause she’s rather smart. She reads most of the same books I do, enjoys foreign films with me, and even has helped me on occasion with my schoolwork.

“I can’t believe we’re in college,” I comment quietly.

After pulling a menu off another table, she nods thoughtfully, “Twelve whole years we’ve known each other now… f*****g crazy.”

“Totally.”

She lays the menu down flat and looks at me, “I cannot wait until we’re done at the community college and can move out of Stars Hallow and get our own place and go to the university! All these years we’ve talked about it and it’s so close to happening!”

That had been the plan, I think. It had been. When I felt so utterly trapped living with Mama, when I felt under I microscope living in Stars Hallow, when my only confidant and friend was Nikki, sure that I had been the plan. But now? Now there are so many other things I wish to happen.

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Cup holder with two Duke’s diner coffees in one hand, a bag of burgers and fries in the other, I knock with my knuckle. Final exam week is over, the semester is over, grades are posted, so Valarie and I finally have time to see each other. I cannot wait to see her, to hug her, to kiss her, and finally ask her to come on vacation with me and my family over the Winter break.

Usually, it takes Valarie a few moments to answer, coming all the way from her bedroom, so I am surprised when the door opens right away. Eyes wide, I stutter, “O-oh! Miss Smith…. H-hi.”

“Cyrus.”

Hoping Valarie will save me, I look around her.

“Valarie isn’t here.”

Confused, I frown. “I am sorry to bother you Miss Smith, but Valarie did text me to meet her here.” I dramatically look at her Honda Accord in the driveway. “May I come in?”

Unwelcome stare unrelenting, Miss Smith is a perfectly still guard dog. “No.”

Standing my ground, I offer a smile and a head tilt. “Well, that is all right, Miss Smith. I will just give her a quick phone call. Won’t you hold this?” and I push the cup holder and bag towards her.

This does exactly as anticipated, and she moves just enough to my left that I can squeeze through. “Thank you.”

Up the stairs, I call for Valarie. A door to the left opens and she pokes her head out, “Cyrus?”

I smile and raise both hands, “I bring sustenance.”

Miss Smith makes a commotion, surely to remind us of her presence, just as Valarie waves me into her bedroom. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear the door; I must have lost track of time.”

Valarie had once described it as “a mix between Sabrina’s bedroom and Monica’s apartment” which I hadn’t gotten at the time, but after asking Tori for help, I sort of knew what she mean. As I stand here now, she was exactly right. From the purple walls to the antique furniture to the eclectic art and the miss-match blankets and pillows, it is so perfectly her. I run my hands over the bright white iron bedframe as I make my way to her overflowing bookcases.

As Valarie closes the bedroom door and disappears into the closet, she is still apologizing for not meeting me downstairs and me having to deal with her mother. As she does this, I examine her book collection with great curiosity, it seems to rival my own (that I’ve now been collecting for over seventy years). One theme does become apparent, though, and I can’t help but chuckle.

My fingers brush over numerous spines, tipping them to read titles or back blurbs. Pre-teen romance, teen romance, college-age romance, adult romance…. Romance novels as far back as the written word to a whole row that came out this year…. Romance novels with Humans, with Humans and Vampires, Vampires and Vampires, Humans with Werewolves, Werewolves and Werewolves, Vampires and Werewolves, all combinations with Fae and Nymphs and Witches…, etcetera, etcetera.

And then, even more than the textbook needed for Sub-human Anthropology, she must have cleaned out the college bookstore. Vampires: Just Like Us looks well-loved and I slip it off the shelf. On her bed now, I leaf through it and smile at all the things she had highlighted or made notes by.

“So,” Valarie’s rambling comes to a close. I look up to see her putting a silver hoop through her earlobe, “How are you?”

Chuckling, I show her the book cover, “I have to ask… are you with me just for my fangs?” I tease.

Eyes wide, cheeks turning scarlet, “What? No!” then she rushes over to get the book out of my hands.

After she drops it on her desk, I grab her hand and tug her to me. I smirk, “With all my love I think I could look past it.”

She rolls her eyes and then I pull her down to lay on top of me. After a brief kiss, I brush the tip of my nose across hers. “So, whatever shall we do today?”