Page 95 of The Tartan Thesis

I yam.

Juliana

*warbling intensifies*

29

Torin

Nebby

Translation: Nosy

Usage: To describe someone you wish would mind their own business

“I haven’t heard you talk about Beau in a while.”

Freya’s face fills my phone screen, one eyebrow already arched. I’ve got her propped against a stack of books on my desk. She video calls every Sunday to badger me about something or other. I stop pacing my small room and flip the wall calendar over to March, pinning it in place. I turn to her with pursed lips, pretending to be annoyed, but I miss her.

“Oh, er… he’s good,” I say, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.

“Why are your eyes all shifty like that?” she asks, leaning closer to the camera. “Did you finally shag?”

Having a twin is a blessing. And a curse.

A blush creeps up my neck as I avoid looking at the screen, my mind flashing back to Beau on his knees for me.

“Surprised it took so long,” she says, sounding beyond excited. “I mean, that chair didn’t break itself.”

“Noticed that, did you?” I say, failing to make eye contact.

Freya stares me down, clearly waiting for me to explain myself.

“We didn’t shag,” I say, “but we did have some fun.” God, my face is hot. I give her the gist of what happened, and she gasps in all the right places, waving her hands around above her head in others, then congratulates me. She even applauds, which feels wildly unnecessary.

“That’s huge, Torin!”

“It really isn’t,” I say.

Except—

He really was.

And the way he’d stared into my eyes while he took me with such ease…

I clear my throat and tap the screen, muting the call for a second as I adjust myself, forcing myself to breathe through it before I compose my face and bring her back.

“So what happens now?” she prods.

I sink onto the edge of the bed. “Honestly, I don’t know.” Burns Night had been incredible, but things have gone back to normal since then. “I guess I’m still waiting for something. A sign.”

“Let me see if I understand your predicament,” she says, sarcasm already creeping in. “The hottest guy I’ve ever seen, who’s somehow also sweet and intelligent, snogged you while spending the holidays with you and your family, then gave you the best blow job of your life, and you’re waiting around for more signs that he likes you?”

“Och, fuck off,” I say. “Like I said, we’re just having some fun. It doesn’t mean anything.”

But it does. It means so much. I want more, but being back at uni has stirred up memories of my time with James. And I can’t set myself up for another broken heart.

“What’s the real problem, Torin?” she asks, gentler now. “What are you afraid of?”