We enter the manor and I just know that my mother would love this place. It looks so regal and fancy. There are chandeliers everywhere. Wow, people really go all out for this thing.

Charlotte is practically bouncing. "The last time I've been was years ago! It still looks just as lovely!"

I'm surprised at how many people there are throughout the manor. Many are spilling out of the ballroom and into the hallway and other rooms. If I can manage to escape Megan's iron grip for a few moments, I might be able to explore later.

We daintily squeeze through the ballroom doors and "float" (as my mother would call it) down the staircase. People start pairing off, including Megan and Charlotte. Even Edith disappears somewhere. And so, I am left all alone. Talk about awkward.

I naturally drift off towards the fancy snack buffet table thingy. As I nibble on a french pastry, I watch all the dancing couples. Simon, who is surprisingly light on his feet, twirls a laughing Megan around. Annabelle is dancing with one of her cousins and Charlotte is giggling in the corner with a blonde man. After all the teasing she's done to me, I'll have to interrogate her later.

All of a sudden, a hand touches my back. I whip my head around and see Tristan standing behind me. In a tux.

He gives me a grin. "Hey."

"Hey." I say.

Then he looks down at my dress and back at my face. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," I blush. Great, now I look like a tomato. "You don't look too bad yourself."

He smiles. Then we both watch the dancing. Why is this so awkward? There's something about seeing Tristan all dressed up that makes me nervous.

"Would you like to dance?" he asks me all of a sudden. I should probably say no to avoid giving people ideas, but I find myself unable to refuse. I nod and he takes my hand.

His arm slips around my waist and his other hand takes mine. As I put my other hand on his shoulder, his hair brushes against my fingers. We start to move around the room with the other couples.

I already know Tristan's a good dancer. After all, he is an ice princess. However, I am not as graceful. I stumble a few times but he catches me. Being in close proximity with Tristan doesn't ease any tension, though.

"So," I say. "How many times have you been to this ball?"

He looks down at me. "A few times when I was younger. Though the ball isn't really that exciting. Simon, I, and a couple of the other kids used to sneak in here. The owner is this old man that we were all really scared of for no reason. We would dare each other to knock on the door. I have several videos of Simon screaming his head off."

I laugh. "First, I need to see those. Second, that poor old man."

He leans closer, "You'll never see those videos. We keep them locked up."

"I'll find them," I say with certainty.

We continue to dance and talk. Not flirt. Nope. No flirting. No siree. I don't even know how to flirt, so there's definitely no flirting going on here. Everything's going fine until Tristan gives me an apologetic look as he is dragged away by an uncle who wants to introduce him to a friend.

Once again, I am left alone. I have two choices. Find someone to talk to or find a dog. Yeah, let's go with the latter. I decide to adventure upstairs.

It's dimly lit and a bit gothic. I catch a few giggling couples sneaking into rooms doing who knows what, but other than that, it's pretty much empty. Except for the cat lying on a chaise lounge.

At the end of the hallway, there's a door leading to a balcony. I could use some fresh air. I hope this is safe, it would be embarrassing if it broke and I fell down. It would probably also hurt. A lot.

The air is cool and crisp which is good because all that dancing and stair-climbing made me hot. It's kinda nice to be alone. Don't get me wrong I love my friends, and their families too, but it can be exhausting to be polite.

I never know what to say because sometimes (okay, maybe more than sometimes) I say the wrong things. And most of the time, my mind just goes blank when I need to follow up on a conversation I'm not particularly interested in. But talk about hockey or little sisters and I could go on for ages.

Suddenly, the huge french doors creak open. Tristan pauses as he sees me looking like a deer in headlights.

"So, you've found the hiding spot," he says as he strides over to the railing.

"Oh, you know about this place. And I thought I was special." I respond. Looks like I have a partner in crime.

Tristan chuckles. "After a while, these parties get pretty dull. I would come out here to wait for my parents to finish."

We both look down at the people running on the lawn and chatting with friends. "Do you ever miss it?" I ask, breaking the silence. "Miss living here?"

"I love it here. This is my home, where my family is, you know. But it's also my childhood, and I don't want that to change. I guess I miss being here as a kid, but not as an adult. I don't know if that makes sense."

"No, I get it. Some things are just too perfect to mess up. Some things don't need change."

He looks over at me. "Exactly! Finally, someone gets it." And I do get it. Why ruin perfectly good memories? Even the bad, confusing memories. No one wants to relive those experiences. They're always better when you've already lived through them.

He gives me a small smile. "What about you? Do you want to keep living in Boston?"

"I guess. It's not really about the location. I just want to be there for my little sister. I don't want to only call her on the phone. I want to celebrate her birthday in person and go to every one of her recitals."

Tristan nods then chuckles. "My brother's all grown up, but I still feel like I have to look out for him. Not that he needs me to. He has Megan."

"And what about you? Who's going to take care of Tristan Berkeley?" I ask. Wait. Did I actually just say that? Am I flirting? Nah, I'm just teasing. Definitely just teasing.

"Contrary to popular belief, I can take care of myself." he says with a glint in his eyes.

"Mmhmm. But you can't even comb your hair." I reach out and smooth down a stray piece of hair. And it's soft. Just like I remember.

What the heck am I doing? I pull my hand back immediately as Tristan lets out a shaky breath. We both turn towards the lawn. And is it just me or is it unusually warm for an English Christmas ball? I should probably leave before something else happens. But for some unknown reason, I don't want to leave.

"Tristan?" I ask.

He turns and looks at me, waiting for my words. But after looking into his eyes, I forgot everything I was going to say. Tristan tucks a strand of hair behind my eyes and places his hand at the base of my head. We both lean forward and just before our lips touch, a shriek from below makes us jerk back.

I look at him in shock. What am I doing? This is a very bad idea.

"I need to go," I say, stepping backwards.

I hear him call my name as I go out the door. Back on the first floor, I slip into an empty room and sit down at the desk.

This was a mistake. This whole trip was a mistake. And now I'm gonna have to pay in awkward collisions in the halls and silent dinners. I wish I could stay here forever, away from everyone, away from Tristan.

I don't really want to be with Tristan. We didn't work out back then, and we are not going to work out now. But somehow, I keep fighting myself.

Author's Note:

Hi everyone! I know it's been forever since I last updated and I am really sorry. I'll try to be better about it in the future. :) Anyways, this chapter is pretty exciting so I hope y'all enjoy it!

-BookPetals

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mother-Daughter Book Club Series and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.