Page 24 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

Johan

The last day of school before Winter break is always bittersweet. The small event with the head of the Department of Archaeology is a quiet affair, held in a cozy room adorned with festive decorations. The scent of spiced cookies fills the air, adding to the warm atmosphere.

I stand by the refreshment table, sipping on a cup of mulled wine, when Professor Anderson, the head of the department, approaches me with a genial smile.

“Johan, there you are,” he says, extending a hand. “I just wanted to thank you for stepping in as a substitute. You’ve done a remarkable job.”

I shake his hand firmly. “Thank you, Anderson. It's been an incredible experience. I've learned a lot.”

“Well, we've certainly appreciated your hard work. The students have given us excellent feedback about your lectures,” he replies, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

“I'm glad to hear that,” I say, feeling a swell of pride. “It's been challenging but rewarding. The students are quite engaged and passionate about their studies.”

Professor Anderson nods, taking a sip of his drink. “Yes, we do have a remarkable group this year. How are you finding the research on Ubar? I hear you're quite dedicated to that project.”

“It's fascinating,” I say, leaning in slightly. “The more I dig into the history and the legends surrounding the lost city, the more intriguing it becomes. I'm really looking forward to the expedition in January.”

“Ah, Oman in January,” he muses. “It sounds like an adventure. Have you traveled to that region before?”

“Not extensively,” I admit. “I've been to Egypt and Jordan, but this will be my first time in Oman. I'm excited about the opportunity to explore such a historically rich area."

“Well, I'm sure you'll do great,” Professor Anderson says with a reassuring smile. “And it's good to see young scholars like yourself taking such initiative. It's what keeps our field alive and vibrant.”

“Thank you, Professor,” I say, feeling a bit humbled by his praise. “I hope to bring back some valuable insights and maybe even some exciting discoveries.”

We continue to chat about various archaeological projects and the latest developments in the field. It’s a comfortable conversation, and I feel more at ease with each passing moment. As the event winds down, Professor Anderson gives me a pat on the back.

“Enjoy your break, Johan. You've earned it. And if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out.”

"I will, thank you," I say, genuinely grateful.

As the event comes to a close, my phone buzzes with a text from Conrad: Pub tonight? Last day before we all head home.

The idea of unwinding after such a hectic term sounds perfect.

I reply with a quick affirmative and make my way to the pub.

The cold air nips at my face and the festive decorations along the streets cast a warm, cheerful glow.

The pub is already packed when I arrive, the atmosphere buzzing with the energy of students celebrating the end of the semester.

Laughter and music fill the air, and I spot Conrad waving from a table near the back.

Navigating through the crowd, I feel the pulse of the music vibrating through the floor. I finally reach the table, and Conrad greets me with a wide grin.

"Johan! You made it! How does it feel to be free for a bit?" he asks, handing me a pint.

I take a sip, savoring the cold, crisp taste. "Honestly, it feels incredible. I didn't realize how much I needed a break until now. How about you? Ready for some downtime?"

Conrad laughs. "Absolutely. I've been drowning in research papers. A few weeks without deadlines sounds like heaven.”

We chat about our holiday plans and the latest departmental gossip and reminisce about the term. It feels good to unwind, to let the stress of the past few months fade away for a while. Just as I’m starting to relax, I feel a hand grab my arm. I turn to see Astrid, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Johan, darling,” she coos, leaning in closer than necessary. “There you are! I was wondering when I'd run into you.”

I feel my face flush slightly, a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “Hi, Astrid. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Why wouldn't I be here? It's the last night before the holidays, after all,” she says, her fingers lingering on my arm. “You've been so busy lately. I miss spending time with you.”

Conrad gives me a knowing look as he sips his drink but stays silent.

“Yeah, it’s been a hectic term,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral. “How have you been?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” she replies with a flirtatious smile. “Classes, planning for the holidays. Speaking of which, I was thinking we could spend Christmas together. My family is going to the Maldives, and I’d love for you to join us.”

I take a step back, trying to compose myself. “I can't, Astrid. I've already agreed to spend a week with Conrad and the rest of the time studying the lost civilization of Ubar for the expedition to Oman in January with your dad.”

Astrid’s smile falters for a moment before she sighs and steps closer, her hand trailing down my arm. “Fine. But why don’t we make the most of tonight, then? Come with me to the bathrooms.”

Seeing the intent in her eyes, I feel a knot of tension form in my stomach. Just as I’m about to respond, Conrad appears beside us.

“Johan, we have to go to that dinner party from the social club,” he says, and his voice is my only lifeline.

Astrid glares at him but lets go of my arm. “Fine. But this isn’t over,” she warns, her eyes locking onto mine before we walk away.

As we head outside, the cool air hits my face, a welcome relief from the heat of the pub. Conrad looks worried, his brow furrowed.

“Don't you think you should do something about Astrid? Soon enough, and she’s going to force herself on you,” he says, breaking the silence as we walk.

I place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’ve already spoken to Ludovic about it. We’re heading to Oman in January. Once I gather solid evidence of his scheming, I’ll finally be able to break things off with her.”

Conrad nods, though the worry doesn’t leave his eyes. “I just hope you know what you’re doing. She’s not going to give up easily.”

“I know,” I say, sighing. “But I've got a plan. Just need to play it carefully.”

We walk in silence for a while; the only sounds are the crunch of snow beneath our feet and the distant hum of city life. Eventually, Conrad stops in front of an old, nondescript building.

“By the way, where are we going?” I ask, curiosity piqued.

Conrad grins, his mood lifting. “To one hell of a party where I know for sure Astrid isn’t invited.”

Relief washes over me as we step inside.

The room is filled with familiar faces, and the tension from earlier starts to melt away.

The warm lighting and festive decorations create a cozy, welcoming atmosphere.

I grab a drink and follow Conrad deeper into the party, exchanging greetings and catching up with friends.

The evening unfolds with laughter, music, and a few friendly debates about the latest archaeological discoveries. For a few hours, I can almost forget about the looming challenges and enjoy the moment. Conrad and I eventually find a quieter corner to chat more.

“You know,” Conrad says, leaning against the wall, “it’s good to see you relax a bit. You’ve been pretty wound up lately.”

I nod, taking a sip of my drink. “Yeah, it's been a rough term. But I'm glad to have friends like you to help me unwind.”

Conrad smiles, clinking his glass against mine. “Anytime, mate. Just remember, we're in this together. Whatever happens with Astrid and Ludovic, we've got your back.”

I smile, feeling a renewed sense of determination. This break is just what I need to recharge and face the challenges ahead. As the party continues, I feel a glimmer of hope that things might just work out after all.

The private member club is a world away from the usual student haunts.

The opulent surroundings, with their dark wood paneling, soft leather chairs, and ambient lighting, exude a sense of exclusivity and refinement.

The sounds of clinking glasses and subdued laughter create a sophisticated background hum.

As I navigate through the crowd with Conrad, I suddenly spot Hannah across the room.

She’s surrounded by a group of people, including a guy I don’t recognize.

She’s laughing, her face bright with joy, and the sight creates a pang of jealousy that hits me hard.

A swirl of questions races through my mind.

Why is she here? Did Conrad invite her without telling me?

And who is that guy she’s laughing with?

For a moment, I hesitate. Do I really want to approach her, knowing it might stir up more complicated emotions?

I watch her from a distance, taking in how beautiful she looks tonight.

Her dress is elegant, accentuating her body perfectly, and her smile lights up the room.

The sight of her laughing so freely tugs at my heart. I can’t stand here and do nothing.

Gathering my courage, I decide to approach her. As I make my way over, the room feels like it’s closing in, the noise fading into the background. I take a moment to appreciate the decor—the intricate moldings on the ceiling, the rich tapestry of the carpet underfoot—before finally reaching her.

Hannah looks up as I approach, her face lighting up with a smile. “Johan, you made it!” she says warmly, though I can see the surprise in her eyes. “This is Mark, a friend from my history class. Mark, this is Johan.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, shaking Mark’s hand briefly, trying to keep my tone polite. My mind is still whirling with questions and emotions. Why does it bother me so much to see her laughing with him?

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” I ask, turning my attention back to Hannah.

She nods, excusing herself from the group. We weave through the crowd, the atmosphere growing more intimate as we find a quieter corner of the club, away from prying eyes and ears. The soft glow of wall sconces casts a warm light, creating a sense of privacy.

“Regarding the Christmas week with your family,” I begin, trying to keep my voice steady. “Are they really down with it?”

Hannah takes out her phone, her fingers poised to dial. “Of course they are. Here, I’m calling Oma so she can invite you directly,” she says, looking up at me with a reassuring smile.

“Okay, fine, I trust you,” I say, a bit relieved. “I'm down, then. When are we leaving?”

“Really?” Hannah’s face lights up with excitement. She steps forward and embraces me, her joy palpable. Without thinking twice, she kisses me right there in the club. I feel a rush of warmth but quickly push her back, glancing around nervously.

“Hannah, we're in public,” I remind her gently.

“Okay, but technically you’re no longer my teacher,” she counters, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Yes, but I’m still engaged,” I reply, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. I see her excitement dim, replaced by a shadow of sadness.

“I know, I just?—”

I take her hand, my fingers rubbing her knuckles softly. “Once we gather evidence that Ludovic is stealing the artifacts from the Oman government, I’ll be able to go to the council and turn the tables against him and Astrid. All we need is some time.”

Hannah nods, a spark of hope returning to her eyes.

I take her hand, feeling the urgency to be alone with her.

We weave through the elegantly decorated corridors, the sounds of the party fading behind us.

The polished wood and rich fabrics of the club exude luxury, and the soft lighting creates an intimate ambiance.

I open a few doors until I find an empty room, likely a guest bedroom. I pull her inside, closing the door firmly behind us. The room is dimly lit, with a plush bed and a small seating area. The faint scent of lavender hangs in the air, adding to the sense of seclusion.

Hannah steps closer, her eyes searching mine. I lean in, and we start making out, all the pent-up emotions of the past few months spilling over. Her hands find their way to my shoulders, pulling me closer, and I respond with equal fervor.

We pause, our foreheads gently resting against each other, our breaths still heavy and uneven. The silence between us hums with the weight of unspoken words. “Hannah,” I whisper softly, my voice raw with longing, “You know how much I wish things were different, right?”

“I know,” she murmurs, her voice barely more than a breath. Her fingers tighten slightly against me as she adds, “But for now, let’s just be here, in this moment.”