Page 81 of Pining for You

And as the words come out of my mouth, I realize it’s true. And that what’s best for Diya really is to stay in Ripton, and live her own dreams, with her own love interest. And I really am rooting for them even if it means I have to give up on keeping Diya close.

“I wonder if this is what it’s like when parents have to let their kids fly away from the nest,” I say. “Except I guess you’re staying in the nest. Or in town, anyway.”

Diya laughs. “I’ll keep the nest warm.”

She looks around and I almost forgot where we were, I was so involved in our conversation.

“Ya know, I may never be a city girl, but this…” She looks around at the dive bar, the busted Christmas lights, the graffitied walls, and says, “… this is the most romantic thing ever. This whole day, your optimism, your belief in magic. You give the rest of us hope. You make it feel like finding love—in all the ways—is worth the risk.”

“You think the magic matters?” I ask.

“Bennie, that’s what gave me the courage to make the leap to this new job and maybe this new crush. To put myself out there and have faith, I had to believe. Call it magic if you want. But I think believing in something matters.”

I’ve been thinking about magic in terms of preservation, and keeping things the same and safe and familiar, rather than in the context of risk-taking. But this magic—what Diya is describing—is more about a leap of faith, and trusting you’ll find a new kind of magic on the other side.

“Eve is the luckiest girl ever.”

“I don’t know,” I reply. “I think I’m the luckiest girl ever, to have you guys, no matter how tonight shakes out.”

We hug one more time, and with this one I tell Diya the thing I know to be most true.

“Damn, I’m going to miss you.”

“It ain’t over yet,” she says, pulling back and looking right at me. “Besides, who knows if we’ll ever make it out of Brooklyn at this rate?”

I let a hand linger on her shoulder. “Well, if we’re stranded here, at least we’re with our other great loves.”

I look up to see Cash and Izaac making their way back, Eve just behind them. My heart leaps at the sight of them all headed our way.

Then I point to the stage. “Now, tell me, O wise one, what do you know about trivia?”

24

“Ladies and gentlemen and those nonconforming to nonsensical gender rules, please take your seats, as we’re about to get started with our annual Christmas Trivia Extravaganza!”

The announcer looks like a young Bad Bunny and is wearing one of those fake white beards that department store Santas clean off the shelves this time of year, except it’s slung under his chin and not on his face, which is a strong move.

“My name is DeSantos, and my pronouns are they/them. But tonight, you can just call me DeSantos Claus, and I’m honored to be your hostess. We are gathered here today to answer cutthroat questions about all things holiday. And as we do every year here at Wade’s, we’ll be donating the entry fee plus ten percent of tonight’s total proceeds to a charity of the winning team’s choice. So we thank you all for your enthusiasm, your holiday cheer, and of course, your very festive green dollars!”

Applause sounds around the room and drinks are lifted in the air. DeSantos takes a little bow, and I love them immediately. I document it all on camera.

“Now without further ado, let’s introduce our competitors, shall we?” they say, and motion to a screen behind their head, where the names of participating teams begin to materialize. When we were asked for ours just before DeSantos took the stage, Diya suggested the Royal Tannenbaums, which I thought was pretty inspired. Plus, it’s a little bit of a flex, like we’re sure we’re going to be crowned before the end of the night.

“Okay, Eve, let’s talk oppo,” Izaac says while we wait to get started. “Weaknesses we can exploit? Personality flaws? Neuroses?” He looks around the little stage. There are three other teams in addition to us at the tables arranged on each side of DeSantos’s host stand.

“Yes, great question. I also have another one: Does anyone want more popcorn?” Cash asks, shaking his empty bowl. We all look at him and no one says a word. “What? I’m practicing music trivia! Got some corn for popping? No?”

We all look back to Eve.

“Well…” She studies the screen. “The Rudolph Rebels are a bunch of nerds who start prepping for this in July every year, and basically live at Wade’s playing pinball and strategizing. The Prancers and Dancers really only play so they can dress up and get onstage. I don’t think they actually care about the contest.”

I look over at said team, which is comprised of humans in various spectacular, holiday-inspired costumes. There’s a sexy Mrs. Claus, an Elf on the Shelf with a bedazzled red onesie, a blasphemous version of Jesus in the manger, and a genderfluid Frosty the Snowperson.

“What about the Blitzin’ Vixens?” Audra asks.

Eve groans and rolls her eyes. “Ugh, Krista and her cronies.” She looks over at the table of girls, all about our age, who are glowering in our direction.

“That’s your nemesis?” Cash asks.