Текст книги "Love is in the air"

Автор книги: A. Destiny

Соавторы: Alex R. Kahler
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

The next morning is a rush of nerves and excitement. Despite the crazy of the dance last night, all Tyler and Kevin talk about over breakfast is their act and how they can fine-tune the moves. Neither Riley nor I mention anything about the fight. If the boys are over it, we will be as well. So she and I talk about our own routine and the show in general and occasionally mention the next time we’re going to meet up. Having her as a friend just furthers my desire to get a driver’s license and car.

After breakfast is another run-through of the show, this one in full dress. Riley and I get into our costumes—a mismatch of tie-dye and neon colors, just like the rest of the jugglers, and head to the backstage area behind the tent. Yesterday was our one chance of seeing the show; today we rehearse like there’s actually an audience. Because in a few hours, the bleachers are going to be packed.

Once we’re all assembled in the grass behind the tent, Olga comes out and makes a few announcements about show order and music cues. Someone nudges into me while she’s talking. I glance over, expecting it to be Riley returning from a prop-gathering mission, and see Branden.

For a moment he just stands there, silent, looking at me with an expression I can’t quite place.

“Hey,” he finally whispers.

“Hi,” I whisper back.

“I need to talk to you.”

I glance over to Olga, who’s finishing up her notes. He takes my cue.

“After?” he asks.

I shrug. I don’t know what he wants to talk about, but I can’t forget Riley’s words last night. I also can’t ignore the little bubble of hope inside of me when he’s near.

“Okay,” he says. “Well, break a leg.”

He seems torn up when he says it, but before I can say anything, he vanishes back into the crowd. Olga’s done with her notes. Showtime.

The show is a blur. Riley appears beside me just in time to dash out onstage for the charivari. We do our routine, and after what feels like no time at all, we dash back behind the scenes and out into the grass. I half expect Branden to show up and try to chat with me, but he doesn’t. He stays over beside his acro group. I catch Luke’s eye and glare. He blushes and looks away.

Riley and I practice our act over and over backstage. There’s nothing else to do, really, and warming up like this keeps my mind off other things. Like Megan, stretching beside the tent with her sisters. If I think about her too much, I may just “accidentally” chuck a juggling club at her head.

Surprisingly, I’m not nearly as nervous as I thought I’d be this time around. Maybe it’s because the practice keeps my brain engaged on not losing an eye. Maybe it’s because I’m actually starting to get used to this performing thing. Whatever the reason, I barely notice the time fly by. Then, out of nowhere, Olga comes back and says that we’re skipping intermission for this run-through. Riley and I take our places. Then, with the blare of music, we run onstage.

Our act goes off without a hitch. The lights blind me with brilliance, and music pulses in my veins. We make every pass, hit every cue. When we finally run offstage, I feel like a rock star. The sensation lasts for the next few acts, while Riley and I sit out back and chat with Tyler and Kevin. I could really get used to this show-business thing and can only imagine it will be a hundred times better with real, live applause.

After what seems like no time at all, we head back onstage for the finale. Everything is perfect. By the time we take our bows, I’m covered in a light sheen of sweat and can practically feel myself glowing with happiness. I take Riley’s hand for the bow. This is where I’m meant to be. Under the spotlights, surrounded by friends. This is what performing is all about.

As we head offstage, I realize that that was our last time to practice. The next time I set foot in the ring, I’ll be surrounded by an audience.

A few days ago, that thought would have terrified me. Today it just makes me excited.

We change out of our costumes and grab a quick lunch before families start to arrive. Our conversations are light, completely glossing over the fact that in a few hours, we’re going to be heading our separate ways. For now, there’s still a show to run. There’s still some time in the spotlight.

A part of me expects Branden to approach during lunch, but he doesn’t come near. The only consolation is that Megan isn’t with him. She stays at a table with her sisters. I feel a little vindicated in that, but also a little bad: Being mean to people has never been my strength, and seeing her so outside the troupe almost makes me want to go up and chat with her. All her manipulating and meanness have set her apart from the company. I glance around at my table, at Riley, who grins and chucks celery stalks at Tyler and Kevin, neither of whom are very good at catching the flying food in their mouths. Probably because they can’t stop laughing.

I smile. In that moment, I know I got out of this camp precisely what I wanted: I found a family of friends. I’m getting my time in the spotlight. Sure, not the way I thought, but it’s still fantastic.

Now, if only Branden had asked me out in the first place . . .

After lunch we head back to our rooms to pack. I’ve never liked packing, even for vacation—it always feels like saying good-bye. Thankfully, Riley blares some cheesy pop music while we pack, so the experience isn’t so bad. We dance around and sing at the top of our lungs and throw our unfolded clothes in our bags. Leena comes in at one point; I expect her to tell us to turn the music down. Instead she sings along to the chorus, with my hairbrush as a microphone. Then she bows, tells us we need to be backstage in twenty minutes, and leaves.

Riley and I exchange a glance.

“Time for one more song?” she asks.

“Always,” I say.

And she plays the song we did for the talent show. I’ve never sung so loud in my life.

•  •  •

We’re backstage. I haven’t been out to see if my parents are there in the audience; I kind of don’t want to know. But I’ve been back here for the last ten minutes, watching people filter into the tent from the corner of my eye. Riley’s kept us practicing the entire time. Like everyone else, we’re in full costume and makeup. And like everyone else, we have nothing to do now except run our routine over and over and pump ourselves up for our first, last, and only show.

Finally, once everyone’s in the tent, Olga comes out back and has us assemble.

“All right, campers,” she says. She’s dressed in full ringmaster regalia, including a red coat and a black top hat. “I don’t have much to say—it’s already been said. You’ve put in so much heart and hard work over the last few days; no matter how today’s show goes, you should all be very proud of yourselves for what you’ve accomplished. Six days ago you didn’t even know one another. Today you have created a show as a team. You’re a family now, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this industry, it’s that a circus family stays with you for life.

“So let’s go out there and show everyone what you’ve accomplished. Let’s give them a show they’ll remember forever!”

She cheers, and we all join in. My nerves are dancing and my heart pounds, but it’s with excitement and adrenaline. It’s showtime. I glance at Riley, who gives me a huge smile. I look to Tyler and Kevin, who are hugging each other.

Time to show my family the new family I’ve just made.

•  •  •

There’s no way to describe how it feels to run onstage with a full audience cheering you on. I’ve never felt so exhilarated, so alive. When we bow after our final pose of the charivari and the crowd explodes into applause, I almost cry with happiness. At that moment, I know this is what I was made for. No matter what, I’m coming back next year. Better than ever. I won’t let this be my last time onstage.

The music and applause is a constant through the rest of the first act. Riley and I practice our routine and don’t drop a single pass. Then, just like during the rehearsal that morning, the first act ends almost as quickly as it started. My heart beats faster—our act is up after intermission.

Although Olga said we’re allowed to mingle with our parents, I stay backstage. For some reason, it makes it feel like I’m keeping this dream alive. Once I talk to my mom and dad, I’m back to being normal old Jennifer. So long as I stay back here, I’m still the circus star. Riley leaves to go say hi to Sandy, so I stay in the back and practice my solo passes.

What I don’t expect is for Megan to come up to me. She storms over in her silver leotard, and for a moment I think she’s going to punch me. Her hands are clenched at her sides, and she’s giving me a death glare. Her sisters are right behind her.

“I hope you’re happy,” Megan fumes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

“Leave off it, Megan,” Sara says. “This isn’t a game. You’ve already done enough.”

“Yeah,” says her other sister. Olivia, I think her name is. “It’s the last day. Just leave her alone.”

“No,” Megan says. She shakes off her sisters and storms up to me. “He was supposed to choose me. Don’t you see that? It was always supposed to be this way: He was supposed to see me again and remember he loved me.” That’s when I realize there are actually tears in her eyes.

“C’mon,” Sara says. She reaches out again. “Just forget him, okay?”

“Yeah,” Olivia agrees. She takes Megan’s other arm.

“I hate you,” Megan says. “You aren’t good enough.”

But before I can get a question in, Olivia is guiding her distraught sister away. Sara lingers behind for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” she says. “About everything. She and Branden dated at camp two years back. He broke up with her. She’s been plotting this for a while—it’s half the reason she dragged us to this camp in the first place.”

“Oh,” I say. “I’m . . . sorry.”

She shrugs. “I’ve gotten used to it. Anyway, break a leg.”

“Thanks,” I say, and watch her follow her sisters to the front of the tent.

“Huh,” I murmur to myself. That was definitely not what I expected. I actually feel a little sorry for Megan. Well, for her sisters, at least. I wonder if she’s that demanding at home. She made them go to camp so she could hook up with Branden? No wonder she seemed so desperate.

I glance around, half expecting to see Branden come over and finally tell me whatever it was he wanted to say. But he’s nowhere to be seen. Must be out front with his parents.

Riley comes back a little while later. Almost on cue, the music in the tent changes.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

I smile. “Born ready.”

She gives me a quick hug. Then, when the cue hits, we run onstage.

Our act goes perfectly. When I’m in the spotlight, I’m no longer Jennifer. I’m a star, an actor on a glorious stage. When we finish in what seems like only heartbeats later, I feel connected to this place in a way I could never imagine before. Applause fills me. I take Riley’s hand and bow deeply, convinced I can hear my parents yelling high above the rest of the crowd. Then we run offstage.

The rest of the show is a blur.

In no time at all we’re gathering for the finale, Riley’s hand firmly in mine and a grin plastered on both our faces. We run out into the ring, and the troupe performs its final act. The crowd doesn’t stop clapping, not for the entire routine. Not until Olga comes out and thanks the parents for letting us be part of such an amazing experience.

“Now,” she says, “we’d like to extend the circus experience to you, the families who have supported us. For the next hour, our coaches will be on hand to teach you whatever skills you’d like to try out, from juggling to the flying trapeze rig out back.” She looks behind her to us, and I swear her eyes catch on me. She grins. “This extends to our performers as well, just in case they wanted one last shot at a new skill.”

My heart leaps. Riley’s grip tightens on mine.

Olga’s giving me a second chance.

I could try the flying trapeze again.

Before I can get lost in the thought, the troupe dashes offstage. Behind the tent, everyone is hugging and congratulating one another as parents and family members come back to offer their own praise. I spot my parents and run over to them, wrapping them both in a hug.

“You were amazing, Jennifer!” my dad says. My mom echoes this, squeezing me tight.

“Thanks, guys,” I say. I look to the flying trapeze. “Before we go, there’s something I’ve gotta do.”

They don’t ask what I mean, just give me another hug and let me run off. I head straight to the flying trapeze. Time to face my fears.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

All the coaches are already there, along with a handful of families. Only a few other kids from the camp are there, still in makeup and costume.

The moment I see the rig, my heart does a little somersault and the fear comes back. You can’t do that. You’re too much of a coward. It’s too high—you’ll just panic again and make a fool of yourself in front of all these people.

But that voice doesn’t last very long. It can’t, not under the pressure of the new strength I’ve found. I was just onstage performing in front of a live audience. My act went perfectly. And now, here I am, given a second chance just like Riley said. I’m not going to blow this. I’m going to prove to everyone, once and for all, that Jennifer Hayes is not a coward: I’m a circus star.

I step up to the front of the crowd—no one’s forming a line—and offer to go first. Tanya looks at me with a small smile on her face. She remembers me trying the trapeze before, I know it. But rather than smiling like she’s laughing inside, her grin is comforting. Proud, almost. She straps the safety belt around my waist.

“You know the drill,” she says, putting a hand on my shoulder. She leans over. “You can do this,” she whispers. Then she lets me go.

I stare up at the ladder, the height that has haunted me for the last week. It seems to represent everything I’ve been through, every time I’ve given up or failed. My hand shakes as I reach out and take hold of the first rung. The small voice inside of me is telling me to give up now, before I take that first step, before I find out just how much of a coward I really am.

I ignore the voice. I climb.

I don’t look down as I climb up the shaky rope ladder. It sways slightly as my weight shifts, and a knot of vertigo lodges in my throat. But I don’t stop, not even when I reach the point where I gave up last time. I don’t look down or let that voice take hold until I reach the very top, where one of the coaches waits with a hand outstretched. When I’m on the tiny wooden platform that feels like it’s a hundred feet above the ground, I look out to the tent and the crowd below me.

What a rush! Everything is spread out and tiny. I see my mom and dad down there, waving at me. Riley and Sandy, both of them jumping up and down with excitement. Tyler and Kevin, hand in hand, cheering. Leena’s there beside them, calling out that I can do it. And I even see Branden, standing a little ways apart, looking up at me with an expression I can’t quite see.

The coach snaps the safety lines to my belt and pulls the trapeze back for me.

“Just hold on and try to beat your body when she tells you to,” he says. “And when she says let go, just let go. Keep your arms flat at your sides—don’t try to land on hands and knees. Got it?”

I nod. I can’t stop looking at the view. It’s gorgeous up here. Even the air seems cleaner, clearer. Suddenly I can’t understand why I was so scared before. Everything from up here seems so perfect.

“Okay,” I say. I reach out and take the trapeze in both hands. The taped metal is cool. The coach holds on to the back of my belt as I lean out, staring across the rig and down at the ground that seems so far away. My heart hammers. My palms go cold. But I’m here. I’m here. And I’m not backing down now.

“Ready?” he asks.

I nod.

“On three. One. Two. Three!”

I leap out. The world soars.

An excited yell leaves my lips as I sway over the net, wind whipping in my face and the sun shining bright. I feel like a bird, like a superhero. I arc out and swing back, nearly reaching the platform I was just on. I can barely hear the coach calling out for me to beat over my laughter. When the swing finally slows to a near halt and she tells me to release, I’m giddy with adrenaline. I let go. The ground plummets toward me, the net catches me and bounces me up a few feet like a trampoline. For a few seconds I just lie there, bouncing up and down. Then I grab the edge of the net and roll down, my eyes squeezed shut. Someone helps me down. I expect it to be the coach.

It’s Branden.

“You were . . . you were amazing.” His words are breathy, filled with excitement. The coach comes over and helps me out of my safety belt, but I barely notice it. Branden doesn’t move away, doesn’t stop looking at me. I see Riley from the corner of my eye, but she gives me space. She also keeps my parents back.

“Jenn, I’m sorry,” Branden continues. “About the dance, about everything. I never wanted to go with Megan, but she said you weren’t interested in me and like Luke instead. She pretty much forced me to ask her.”

My jaw drops.

“She told me you weren’t interested in me,” I say. “And her sister said you guys made out the night of the talent show.”

He shakes his head. “I’d never do that. That was a lie. She and I were never a thing—I’ve been trying to convince her of that since camp two years ago. I like you, Jenn. I really, really like you. I’ve wanted it to be you all along.”

My heart flutters with his words, but they’re tinged with sadness.

“I wasted all camp trying to work up the nerve to ask you out,” he continues. “I thought I was going to lose you when Luke asked you to the dance. Then I heard what he and Megan did. . . . I can’t believe it, Jenn. I’d never hurt you like that. Ever. And then, today, seeing you face your fears, and watching you defend your friends last night, well, you inspired me. I need to face my own fears.”

He looks me deep in the eyes then. It feels like he’s actually seeing me for who I am, and not just the girl I try to be.

“I know camp is over,” he whispers, “but I’d really like a chance at this. We live pretty close to each other. I think it could work. Would you . . . would you like to try? Going out with me, I mean?”

I gasp.

I don’t even think about my answer.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes, I will.”

He smiles, the warm sunlight playing off his lips. His arms wrap around my waist, pull me tight.

And when he leans in to kiss me, it feels like flying all over again.

TURN THE PAGE FOR MORE FLIRTY FUN.

My entire body ached as I stretched each limb and popped my back, trying to shake off the effects of the long, long trip. Cleveland to New York to London to here—I still couldn’t believe we’d left home yesterday afternoon and had just arrived in Edinburgh’s airport a couple of hours ago.

But as I stared out our hotel window overlooking Princes Street, with Scotland’s rolling greens and ancient buildings staring back at me, the stiffness in my body faded away. I was really here. And it was breathtaking so far. I couldn’t wait to see what other sights Scotland held.

There was a lovely park area in front of our hotel with rich green grasses and trees, and beyond the park there were rows of ancient-looking buildings lined along the street, pressed side by side with pubs, shops, and churches. This whole city was steeped in history. I was crazy excited to explore.

My mom stepped behind me and gave a soft sigh. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

I nodded my agreement. “Well worth being cramped in an airplane for this.” I’d spent hours last week scouring online to find pictures, videos, anything to help get me ready for our two-week vacation to Scotland. But nothing could have prepared me for the image before me.

Downtown Edinburgh bustled with people below, and music and noise filtered up to us from the packed streets. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched. Excitement swelled, and I was suddenly itching to get out there and walk. I wanted to touch the warm bricks with my fingers, smell the pub food and flowers, and hear the noises up close and personal.

“Ava,” my dad said from behind me, “I printed you a copy of our itinerary. There’s also a backup on your bedside table.”

Mom chuckled, and we turned and faced my dad. He didn’t show any signs of fatigue, since he’d slept like a log on our flight from New York to London last night. I, on the other hand, had gotten intermittent sleep, due to the snoring man on my right who apparently couldn’t snooze unless his head was tilted my way.

Mom and I sat down on my bed, and we dutifully took our copies of the papers while Dad recited an overall rundown of how the trip would go. First we would spend a few days in Edinburgh and the surrounding cities, and Dad would spend some of that time doing research on our family heritage. Then we were taking a weeklong bus trip through Oban, Inverness, and St. Andrews so we could explore the Scottish Highlands.

The more he talked, the more excited he got, his eyes flashing bright.

“And if we stick to this schedule, we’ll have plenty of time to fit in almost everything the experts agree we need to see,” he concluded with a flourish. “We’ll experience a good portion of what Scotland has to offer.”

“This sounds like a pretty thorough sightseeing plan you’ve crafted. But do we get to sleep anytime in there?” Mom asked, her lips quirking with quiet amusement. “And maybe have a dinner or two as well?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course we do. I scheduled an hour for each meal—it’s listed clearly under each day.”

An hour? Yeah, right. Mom was the slowest eater in the world. Apparently, he’d forgotten about this little fact. “Good luck policing Mom’s eating speed,” I told him with a hearty chuckle.

She shot me a mock glare, then grabbed her phone. Her fingers flew over the screen as she typed. “Laugh it up, smarty-pants. I just believe in savoring my meals. Anyway, I’m sending Mollie a text to let her know we’ve arrived. I’m so excited to see her. It’s been far too many years since she and I have hung out.”

During our travels here, Mom had given me some information about this family we were hanging out with in Scotland. Apparently, Mom and Mollie had been best friends in high school. After they’d graduated and moved on to college, Mollie had spent a semester in Scotland her senior year. She’d fallen head over heels in love—both with the land and with a handsome guy she’d met on campus. The decision to stay here had been hard, but she hadn’t looked back.

Mollie’s family still lived in the Cleveland area, and Mom said she had coffee with her parents every once in a while. But Mollie herself hadn’t been back to visit in years.

The way Mom talked about Mollie reminded me of my friendship with Corinne. Lasting and strong, no matter what happened in life. We’d known each other for years and had grown into best friends fast. Before I’d left for this vacation, she’d demanded I send her lots of pictures of my trip and keep her up to date on all the cute guys I saw. If only she could have come with me to experience Scotland too. She would love what I’d seen so far; the old buildings and rolling greens would appeal to her artistic nature. Talk about inspiration.

“So, Dad, where are you going to start your research?” I asked. He’d joined an ancestry website last year to begin building our family tree, and it was cool to see the old scanned birth certificates, pictures, and other artifacts regarding our ancestors.

“The National Archives of Scotland.” He dug through his suitcase and produced a battered notebook. As he flipped through the pages, I saw his signature scrawl filling at least the first half of the notebook. Dad was nothing if not thorough and methodical. “It’ll get me a good start on which town we should narrow our focus down to. And someone online mentioned I can check out local churches as well, since they keep meticulous birth and death records.”

After interviewing a number of family members and confirming the information online, Dad had traced our family line back to Scotland. When he’d casually brought up the idea of continuing his research in person, Mom and I had begged him for a family trip there until he’d caved. We’d all figuratively tightened our belts and cut back on spending to make sure we could afford it, with no complaints.

Yeah, I was willing to follow any goofy, overplanned agenda Dad set if it meant experiencing this. Even our hotel felt cool and different and older than anything I’d seen in America. This country breathed history, and I was full of anticipation to take pictures and draw it.

“Will we be able to find out our family tartan?” I asked him. It would be so cool to get a kilt made in it. Corinne would die of jealousy if I wore it to visit her—and probably tease me a little too.

He shrugged. “If we have one, I don’t see why not. I don’t think all Scottish families do, but maybe we’ll be lucky.”

My stomach growled, and I clapped my hands over it with a chagrined laugh. “Sorry.”

Mom quirked her crooked smile and put her phone away. “Someone’s hungry, it seems.”

“Well, it has been a few hours since we ate lunch,” I protested. And even that had been a little lackluster—a plain sandwich and chips. I wanted a real dinner.

Dad scrunched up his mouth as he thought. “Well, we’re not actually scheduled to start exploring Edinburgh until tomorrow, but I suppose we could get a taste of its foods right now and maybe do a little shopping—”

“Yes!” Mom and I said together, then laughed. We jumped off the bed and stood in front of Dad with pleading eyes.

He gave a heavy, resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. Put on your jackets, and let’s go grab a meal. There’s a place on High Street that was recommended by a number of people. We’ll get some authentic Scottish cuisine there.”

I slipped on my dark-blue fleece jacket and checked myself out in the mirror. My blond bob was a bit worse for wear but not horribly so, and a quick run-through of my brush smoothed the strays. I had on jeans and a T-shirt. Not my foxiest outfit ever, but it would do for now.

“You look lovely, Ava,” Mom said as she walked by me, giving my upper arm a small squeeze.

We left the room and made our way down the hall, down the stairs, and into the large wood-trimmed lobby. A variety of people hustled and bustled around us, checking in as they dragged suitcases to the front desk, talking, laughing. Their energy was infectious, and I found my spirits lifted even higher.

Wow, I was in Scotland—I was really here! And this was going to be an awesome two weeks.

“Oh, just to remind you,” Mom said to me when we stepped outside into the mild summer air. “Mollie and Steaphan have a son around your age. He’ll be hanging out with us too. Graham,” she added with a broad smile.

My good mood slipped a touch, and a hint of wariness filled me. Wonderful. Mom’s attempts at vacation matchmaking weren’t very subtle.

We crossed Princes Street and headed down the sidewalk toward High Street, weaving through the crowds of people. The air carried the rich scents of food and the sounds of drummers off in the distance. Sunlight peeked through intermittent clouds and warmed the air, which hovered around the midsixties. When we’d left Cleveland yesterday, it had been in the nineties and scorching hot for days. This was far, far more comfortable.

“I’m sure Graham is a nice guy,” I finally said to Mom. My stomach growled again. I focused on my hunger in an attempt to change the subject. “So, I can’t wait to try this restaurant. Do you think you’ll try haggis while we’re here? I don’t know if I’m brave enough to eat it.”

Mom ignored my food ramblings and continued, “You should give him a chance, Ava. I’ve seen Graham’s pictures, and he’s quite handsome. A clean-cut boy with a friendly smile.”

“I’m sure he is.” I knew the grin on my face was super fake, but I flashed it anyway. A mother’s idea of handsome was quite different from a daughter’s. Plus, I tended to like guys who were a little less prim and proper. David’s short, scruffy black hair and dark-brown eyes came to mind, and I shoved the memory right back out again. At least that old sting in my heart didn’t flare up at the thought of him, the way it had for so long after our breakup earlier this year.

Dad, who was already in tourist mode, had his camera at the ready and was busy snapping shots of the large brick and stone buildings lining the street. I took out my phone and snapped a few shots so I could send them to Corinne.

Mom nudged me with her shoulder and gave me a wistful smile. She was such a romantic. “I know what you’re thinking, Ava, but who knows? Graham might turn out to be your Scottish vacation romance. After all, Mollie hadn’t planned on falling in love, but here she is, almost twenty years later and still happy as a lark.”

I gave her a casual shrug. Yeah, it would be awesome to find someone I liked that much, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. I’d liked David too, a lot, and that had turned out terribly. No one else knew what had happened between us to make us break up, not even Corinne, and I wanted to keep it that way. The truth was far too mortifying. “We’ll see,” I replied with a broad smile. “I’m looking forward to meeting them all.” That much was accurate, at least.

We turned the corner and headed down High Street. I couldn’t stop staring, absorbing the sights of Old Town Edinburgh. The buildings were packed side by side with adorable storefronts in brilliant colors. Rich Scottish accents poured from young and old guys sitting at pub tables as they talked faster than I could understand, pints in hand. Everywhere I looked I saw tartan patterns on clothing and even a few men in kilts. Their bare calves were strong and sturdy, covered with hair.

A couple of blocks down, Dad led us into a small restaurant with huge glass windows. A waitress with wildly curly gray hair and a warm face seated us and gave us menus. I scoured mine a little hesitantly at first but realized I recognized a lot of the food available and felt a strong sense of relief. An embarrassed flush crept up my cheeks. If my mom could read my thoughts right now, she’d make a pointed comment about me always making assumptions.