Page 32 of The Holiday Honeymoon Switch
“And before that, you were at MIT. So, you lived in Cambridge?” He hasn’t been offering a ton of detail about hislife, and she can’t help but press now, her curiosity about what he’s been up to for the past ten years growing the more time they spend together.
“Right, I was in Cambridge for a couple years. But—” His eyes have darkened, like a shadowy storm cloud has passed over a blue sky on a perfect day. “Actually, I’m an MIT dropout. I didn’t finish my degree.”
She feels like she’s channeling her mother as she tries to deflect the awkward silence that follows by standing up and saying chirpily, “Guess I’d better get started on dinner.” As she melts butter in a skillet and turns the water on to boil the noodles, she changes the topic, hoping to lighten the mood. “Do you keep in touch with anyone from school?”
“Not really,” he says. “Do you?”
“Do you remember Josie Cheng and Lachlan Schneider? We get together every spring and go to Coney Island, just for old times’ sake.” She thinks for a moment. “Actually, the last time we got together, they told me Ricky Exeter had been indicted on corporate fraud charges. Apparently he developed a Ponzi scheme he couldn’t get anyone to go for, so he took it to Palm Springs and his gran’s retirement community.”
Aiden winces, then nods. “That tracks. Ricky fancied himself a diabolical genius.” He sips his beer, tilts his head. “Actually, I do have something. Did you hear that Mr. Abrams, the math teacher, and Ms. Malla, the art teacher, left their respective partners and married each other?”
“Nooooo way!” Holly squeals, feeling like a teenager again—feeling the way she does around Ivy, she realizes. Relaxed, like she can be herself. “I always thought it was weird how much time Ms. Malla spent in the math room! How did you find that out?”
“I ran into them last summer at a restaurant in the city.” His expression grows serious again, the way it had before. “I know gossip is wrong, but why does talking about people you used to know feelsogood?”
She laughs. “It’s pure entertainment, but you feel a connection to it. Imagine hearing gossip about your best friend or a family member. Terrible feeling. You’d have to tell them. An old schoolmate, though? Someone you once knew, but don’t anymore. Feels like catnip.”
They keep chatting as she stir-fries the garlic and ginger in the butter, then adds the greens and soy sauce. She boils and drains the ramen noodles, then puts them in the pan, mixing them up with the rest of the ingredients.
“It smellsamazing. I can’t believe this is all happening with a few packs of instant noodles.”
She pushes the noodles to the side, and adds sesame oil and the hot sauce Aiden brought. When it sizzles, she cracks two eggs and fries them until the yolks are just set. She scoops the noodles and greens into soup bowls, tops each bowl with an egg, and sprinkles sesame seeds on top.
“That looks like it came from a restaurant.”
“Don’t be too impressed. It’s literally the only thing I can cook.”
“Well, Iamimpressed.”
“Want some wine with this?”
“Sure. Here, let me open it. Juice glasses okay?”
“Perfect,” Holly says.
When he takes a bite of the noodles, he closes his eyes, a blissful expression on his face. “These are amazing.”
She smiles at the compliment, then pours the wine and passes him a glass.
He takes a sip, then another bite. “Sogood. Alex and Sid should start serving this at the café. In fact, these are so good, I think…”
“You thinkwhat?”
He has a mischevious expression on his face. “I think if you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.”
She squeals. “You mean our SAT scores?”
He nods.
“2160,” she says.
“Impressive score,” he says, poker-faced.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. 2160 is a tough act to follow,” she says with a wink.
“You’re right,” he says, his expression still unreadable. “It is.”
“Aw, come on!” she erupts. “Fair’s fair. You agreed.”
