Authors Note: I own nothing. No ownership rights to Beverly Hills 90210.
Paris again
Thanksgiving we go skiing with our friends, I pass it off to my parents as a College experience that I didn't want to miss.
As Christmas approaches and winter sets in I've all but given up the illusion of living in the dorms. Dylan is thrilled, Darla is very happy as her boyfriend has taken over the room; she just lets me know if anyone rings for me. Classes have gone well, so well that after my last final I get a message to meet the Dean. I had expressed interest in studying in France in Sophomore year, it was one of the reasons I choose this College.
The Dean informs me, that one of the students in this year's program has had to come home because of a sick family member, the reserve Sophomores have all been cast in major roles in the spring productions and don't want to give up their roles. With my perfect GPA, recommendations from my Professors, and the fact I speak fluent French the Dean wants to know if I would be interested in undertaking a semester abroad.
I leave the office stunned and I'm still like that when I walk into the apartment where Dylan, is trying to boil Pasta and reheat the Bolognese sauce from the night before. He needs to concentrate when in the kitchen, a lesson we have both learnt the hard way, having lost two pans so far to his failed attempts; the concentration is why he rabbles on about the cold day before he even takes note of my face.
He immediately knows something is up.
We go through it sensibly. He's going well at school, I'm going well at school. We have friends, a place we like to live in, we are happy. It doesn't matter though, we both keep coming back to the same point, we love France, we love Paris so why the hell not?
I ring the Dean and accept the place, I ring my parents and let them know. It's a mad rush here to get everything sorted, there is family dinners, friends catchups, packing up of our place, and Dylan's transfer. By some weird knowledge when we leave Minnesota on Christmas Eve morning for Paris we both know we won't be returning back there. It was fun but our Midwest time is finished now.
We arrive Christmas Day morning in Paris, it's beautiful. We stay in a boutique hotel that Dylan adores, and walk the snow white streets that day. We have Christmas dinner overlooking the Notre-Dame de Paris. That night in front of our fireplace in the suite we exchange gifts. I managed to find some first edition American poetry books in a little place in Minneapolis, it took a significant amount of my savings from my summer work at the Beverly Hills beach club to afford them but I wanted this gift of be special. Dylan had the same idea, he presents me with a charm bracelet. On it are two little reminders of our time together over the last six months.
"I didn't want to put too many on as I want room over the next few years, to add to it."
We stay at the hotel for only a few days before we move into an old artist loft that we find near campus. College accommodation was full so my parents were sending me money for rent, Dylan insisted that I keep it.
"Bren when they find out, you know it's going to be brought up that they contributed to our life, that they should have known. I want their money to not touch us. I'd pay for both of our tuition if Jim wasn't paying the college directly for yours."
"Dyl, you know I wouldn't acc-"
He cuts me off with a finger on my lips, "do you have any plans on sending me away?" I shake my head, "and I'm not leaving you ever unless you do, and even then I don't know if I could leave even then. My home is you that's never changing, we both know that now. In freshman year we are too young for the rings, the name change, but one day we won't be, it will all be yours legally then. I'm just not waiting around for that arbitrary paper to live the way we are supposed to."
We never discuss money after that. Dylan and I live frugally mostly the time. We are content with days spent in cafés reading scripts for me and books for him, he accompanies me to the growers markets on Saturday where I pick up seasonal ingredients to cook in our kitchen, and the nights we do splurge going to the theatre or out for dinner are always treated as occasions.
Dylan adores French College, he adores the passion people argue in. He is inspired by his professors to write, and takes to it obsessively. His GPA is as high as mine by the end on the semester, and he has been published in the student literature review by the time summer approaches. Neither of us are interested in returning back to the States but my place in the course has a specific end date one that can't change unless I bump another student in Minnesota off the list.