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“I’m sure Elise has already enlightened you, and I’d rather not discuss it further.”
“Okay…sorry.”
The song does eventually end, but to my displeasure, the next sound over the speaker is the damned countdown to midnight. I’m glued in place as everyone around me, including my dancepartner, chants the countdown, and I’m stuck holding a girl I have no interest in as it happens.
“3, 2, 1—HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Everyone around me echoes in unison, like some sort of incantation.
Being a party put on by my mother, the celebration of the moment isn’t too garish, all things considered. As if on cue, the nets above holding the golden, silver, and black balloons release and the balloons float down in a cloud of shining confetti. Other than that, the only symbol of the change of the year is the fact that all the coupled-off adults are currently kissing like their lives depend on it.
Tatiana looks wistful, her gaze lingering on my mouth longer than I’m comfortable with. Not wanting to shatter her heart completely, I take one of her hands and place a chaste kiss on the back of it, earning me a half-hearted smile from her. Obviously, she’d still been hoping for something more.
“Happy New Year,” I tell her, and she replies kindly.
At least feeling uncomfortable with Tatiana kept me busy when I’d have been wishing for another woman’s kiss to ring in the new year. I’m granted another boon when I feel my phone start to vibrate in my pocket with a call.
I step back from Tatiana. “I have to take this call. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Sure…” she mutters, disappointed, but I’m long gone before she can even finish the word.
I make a beeline for the terrace, where the cold is keeping the rest of the party away. It’s too loud in here for any conversation, and on the off chance this is a call I want to take, I don’t want to waste any time.
Cold air wallops me, but I ignore it, pulling my phone out and frowning at the unknown number. I should know better, but there’s still a significant amount of alcohol in my system, and it makes me impulsive.
“Hello?” I ask.
“Happy New Year,” Roxanne replies, and my heart skips a beat at the sound of her voice.
I grit my teeth. I had known on some level that it would have to be her but having to actually hear her voice is on a whole other level. What is someone even supposed to say to a person they hate, but simultaneously long for like nothing else in the world?
“Never call me again, Roxanne. Stop wasting both our time.”
“Andries, wait—”
“This is over,” I reply, cutting her off. “Do you hear me? Over!”
And I end the call before I can second guess myself, and at the same moment, a riot of fireworks begins to explode amid the dark night right in front of my eyes. Of course fireworks had to be expected for New Year’s Eve, but the suddenness of it all still takes me off guard.
There’s a commotion from people inside moving forward to observe the celebration from the safety of the warm house, as well as some spillover on the ground floor of the braver guests coming out onto the balustrade, the buzz of their appreciative conversation drifting up to me. Still, I’m completely alone out here, which is exactly what I want.
Well, at least I thought I was alone.
Leaning over the railing on the terrace, watching the fireworks apathetically, I’m numbed to the chill in the air by the copious amount I’ve drank throughout the night. It’s probably the alcohol too that lets my grandmother sneak up behind me. I don’t notice her until she appears beside me, leaning on the railing in a mirror image of my posture, only wrapped in a fur coat that is nearly as big as she is. Her sudden appearance makes me jump, and she chuckles.
“That was a short phone conversation,” she comments blandly, speaking loudly between the explosions.
“Indeed.”
“Was it a wrong number?”
I look at her out of the corner of my eye. “How long were you out here exactly?”
Her lips spread slightly up. “Long enough.”
“Then I’m sure you know it was my ex. Which, as I’ve told multiple people tonight, I don’t want to talk about.”
“Are you sure? Although I’ve been told what has happened, it’s always best to hear all the possible gossip from the source.”
I scrub my hands over my face as the firework display ends. I want to flee back to my room, but I also don’t want the truth about my situation to get diluted being passed from person to person.
