Page 4 of The Tartan Thesis

While besties we are not, she did teach me that men are allowed to exfoliate.

I line up the bottles in the order I’ll need them. If I don’t, I’ll get distracted and end up shaving only one side of my face. Routine keeps the chaos manageable. I have what my doctor calls “raging ADHD,” so I have a lot of techniques for staying focused and for rewarding myself for productivity. Like using a consistent order for routine tasks, and putting away items after using them, giving myself an ongoing sense of progress. Little victories to start the day.

I set an alarm so I don’t lose twenty minutes staring at the tiles, and step under the cool spray, which feels great on this warm day. My mind is already wandering back to Torin as I lather, rinse, repeat.

I don’t have a “type” per se, but I find Torin exceptionally attractive for a number of reasons. We were eye to eye for a start, not something that happens very often at six-two. And those eyes. A green so dark I was momentarily mesmerized. Pile on the dark red hair, lean build, and sharp tongue… that’s a great combo. Plus, he’s strong but still a size I can manhandle. I like that. A lot.

It’d been embarrassing to stare at him for several seconds before finding my voice, but he’d seemed just as out of sorts as I was. It’d be nice to run into him again and make a better impression, but it’s a big university, so I won’t hinge any hopes on it. On seeing him again or on making a better impression.

Most people find me charming, but if I’m attracted to someone, all that charisma goes out the window. The easy banter is suddenly gone. I often lose track of the line between teasing and insulting, and when I inevitably cross it, I look like an asshole, often without fully understanding what I did to deserve the title.

Which probably explains why I’ve been out of the closet for five years but still haven’t had a boyfriend.

And now I live in another country with different cultural norms, I’m less sure than ever that I will have much game. It might be a lonely three years here if I don’t learn to rein it in.

That being said, sex is never hard to come by. I hooked up with a guy yesterday.

But in my experience, once a man gets that from me, he’s done. I’d thought someone would eventually come for the brawn and stay for the brains, but I often feel more like a conquest than a person. Like I’m a prize to be won. However briefly.

And I want more.

I’m a romantic. Always have been. And maybe that’s my problem. Maybe my desperate need for a relationship is keeping men at bay.

When my timer goes off, I turn off the spray and dry myself before shaving and moisturizing, my mind moving to the day ahead as I make my way through my routine.

Orientation should be a simple affair. Then I’ll meet my classmates and more of the faculty. I’m not worried about that at all. I enjoy meeting people and learning from them. I’m more excited than ever to gain new perspectives and experiences from those around me.

I get dressed and check myself out in the full-length mirror in my bedroom before I step out into the warm Edinburgh air. It catches me off guard. Stone buildings the color of old parchment, narrow streets folding into one another, historic spires rising above it all, and green spaces like no other place on Earth. There are no skyscrapers, just an old and wonderful city with a bookshop around every corner. I love it.

And I love knowing it was my choice to be here. For most of my life I followed the plan my family had mapped out for me. Scotland wasn’t part of that plan. My parents think this new adventure is ridiculous, but I’m approaching thirty, and for the first time I asked myself what I really wanted—after years of doing what was expected—and going to Scotland to study history was the only answer in my mind.

I pull out my phone as I stroll toward campus and scroll through the series of texts from Juliana and Lucas. Since arriving in Scotland, I’ve woken up every day with a slew of messages in our group chat, the two of them bantering and shooting GIFs and stickers back and forth. It’s a fun way to start the day, but I’m always sad to miss them in real time.

We met in a graduate accounting course. It was not the strongest skill for any of us, despite the fact we’d all worked in various financial organizations. We bonded over our shared misery and soothed our distress with dirty martinis as often as we could.

Lucas is an old Southern woman at heart and has a deep love for pet names, “pigeon” being one of his favorites. We started referring to our trio that way at some point, so our unhinged group chat is called “The Pigeons.” We all moved to different cities after graduation but have stayed in constant communication ever since. Despite the distance, our friendship continues to deepen. They mean the world to me.

The text I got earlier means that Juliana was awake at 2 a.m. her time and still going. She’d been happy to report that she was very drunk and a little high on her visit to New York and that she’d made out with a Broadway singer.

More texts had arrived while I was getting ready.

Juliana

my Uber driver is surly

Juliana

why is bottled water so expensive at this hotel

Juliana

zippers are hard

Juliana

should i even bother getting undressed before bed

I chuckle as I type back.