Nothing sobers you up like future talk. It seems like the older I get, the more of those conversations I find myself in. Although, in fairness to Evangeline, I think this one's my fault.

I mentioned in passing that my reason for applying to one of my university choices was just that the grounds were beautiful. Now, we've been looking at photos of the campus in all its greenery and glory online for the past half hour.

"Shit," Evangeline marvels, her pink lips parted. I've had a hard time focusing on anything but them since the kiss. "It's gorgeous."

For once, though, there's a bright side to all this 'future talk'. Evangeline has the cutest kid-in-a-candy-store face I've ever seen.

The longer I watch her watching the screen, the more beautiful the random Ohio school seems to me – Oberlin, I think it's called. But I'm tipsy on Evangeline and Heineken – I'll have to take another look tomorrow.

"What did you apply for?" She asks, still studying the screen.

"English."

"Hm. I can see that for you."

I laugh. "Thanks, I guess. You applying for English anywhere?"

"A few places, yeah. And a couple of English and Anthropology-slash-Language sort of courses too."

"Ah, very cool."

"Nowhere near as cool as going to flipping Oberlin!" She effuses.

She seems so genuinely happy for me, and I kind of wish I was as enthusiastic about my own future as she is. "Ohio! Scott, that's so exciting! Everywhere I applied is in the UK."

"I guess," I half-smile. "How come? You don't fancy leaving the UK?"

Evangeline shrugs. "Honestly, until not long ago, I couldn't even see myself leaving London. I've just always loved what I have here."

Something tells me she's more reflective than she gives herself credit for. Even with everything she's said tonight about wanting to be an adult sooner, I can see it, hear it, that she sees how valuable it is to live in the present; to embrace adolescence in all its ups and downs.

"You can't see yourself being away from your family?" I hazard a guess.

She purses her lips.

"Something like that," she sighs. "But I'm starting to see things differently now."

She doesn't go on, and I won't push, even though I don't totally know what she means. But I get the sense it's a good thing, so that's what I say.

"Thanks. Hey, did you apply for English at all your choices?" She asks. I happily oblige her redirection of the conversation.

"Oh, no," I exhale frankly. "I wish it were that straightforward. I applied for, uh, English, Econ, Physics, and then a joint Film Studies and Econ programme. Spoilt for choice, heh."

"But you don't know which one to choose?"

She blinks like it's a plain truth, and I feel exposed, like she's seen right through my skull.

"Christ, is it that obvious?" I laugh.

"No, no! You just... you do that thing you just did with your lip when you're not sure about something. Like, in class and stuff."

She breaks our eye contact when she looks at her lap to hide her hot blush, but I keep looking because Evangeline's blush has quickly become my favourite sight, second to her adorable smile, and there's something just so fucking endearing about the fact that she noticed that.

I decide not to tease her about it – for now.

"Well, your diagnosis is correct," I say teasingly, partly just to see if I can get her to blush again. She does, a little.

"I haven't got a clue. I mean, I like all the programs. They're beyond amazing; they're all things I'm interested in. But nothing's pulling me, you know? Like, I'll probably make the most of wherever I end up, but it just feels like I could take it or leave it. I don't know what's supposed to be the deciding factor here. I need a bloody yellow brick road or something, I dunno."

I'm being honest, more honest that I'm used to. It's like just looking at her is some kind of truth serum.

When Evangeline smiles, I know she understands. She gets it – gets me.

"Confusion's part of the package, I think," she says humbly. "We're not supposed to know anything for sure. I think we're just supposed to be excited, you know? Find a twinkle of excitement or whatever, and just follow it. That's my philosophy, anyway. I can't see how I'd ever look back on my life and regret following the thing that made me feel most alive."

This feels like that moment in the movies when I tell her what I've been holding in – that she's my twinkle. But I hedge my bets and settle for something witty instead.

"Talk about a fount of wisdom, hey?" I say, with a playful smile that makes her laugh.

She runs a finger over her bottom lip. "You must be rubbing off on me, Kellerman."

There have been a couple a moments like these tonight, since the kiss. Moments when I can't tell if she's flirting with me, or if my sleep-deprived mind is trying to deceive me. Either way, I'm more than happy to revel in it.

"Where's your twinkle taking you, then?" I ask. "What's your dream school?"

Evangeline picks at her nails.

"Well, I'm actually supposed to be hearing back from them today – Trinity College Dublin. I applied for the Music and Philosophy programme there."

It sounds dramatic, but I could swear that my pulse just stopped. Momentarily, of course.

"Trinity Dublin? I repeat in disbelief.

"Mhm."

"Fuck off."

"What?"

"I applied there too..."

"Scott, fuck off!"

We're sat on the sofa, which doesn't make her manoeuvre any easier, but in her excitement she hops up onto her knees, grabbing my arm.

"What did you apply for?"

"Film Studies and Econ."

"No shit! Have you heard from them? The emails came out today."

She hardly has to remind me. It's all that's been on my mind. Until my evening took a turn for the best and we'd bloody kissed.

"I got the email, but I was waiting for my mum to get home from the PTA thing before I looked," I explain.

"What?" I ask when her stare intensifies.

"Scott," she whispers, "I haven't looked at mine either."

***

"We'll click the email on 3, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Evangeline nods, clutching her phone.

"OK. One, two-"

"Wait!"

"What?"

"What if the email takes longer to load for one of us?"

Her eyes are wide with complete seriousness, and I can't help but chuckle. This might be the 3rd excuse she's made to delay opening the emails.

"Evangeline."

"Okay, okay. On 3."

I nod, and take a breath.

"One." Our gazes lock.

"Two." She takes my hand.

"Three." We click our little screens in unison.

"Dear Ms. Channing, thank you for expressing your interest in Trinity College Dublin, the University of Dublin. This year's pool of applicants was the largest and most..."

Evangeline murmurs as she skims the opening words, echoing the ones I'm reading. Then, it all explodes in a boom and blaze – I read it in black and white, and then I hear it cried out in glee: We are delighted to offer you admission..."

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Scott, did you get it? You did, didn't you!"

She can see it in my smile before I give her a shy nod, and in instant she jumps up to hug me, hanging on for dear life with her arms draped around around my neck. I hold on too, and I feel high.

She lets out a final breath as she pulls away, shaky with happiness, and fetches our beer bottles from the side table, handing me mine.

"So," I grin, "you got your dream school. Congratulations."

"Right back at you," she says, quite literally bobbing with excitement. Then she sobers.

"So, is this it for you, then? Do you think you'll find your 'twinkle' in Dublin?"

I nod, because anything I say with words will be a colossal understatement.

"Yeah," I smile. "I reckon so."

My only hope that she catches the meaning behind my words is the nervous laugh that escapes her while she fidgets with her bottle before holding it high.

"Well then, here's to our future in Dublin," she cheeses, and has no idea how happy the word 'our' makes me feel.

Maybe I'm tired, or a hopeless romantic, or just plain old insane... but after tonight, there's more to us than just our friendship. The future holds more for us, and I think Evangeline feels it too.

"Here's to Dublin," I concur, the bottles clinking when I raise mine to meet hers. She stares at the bottlenecks as they touch.

"Here's to... us." She meets my gaze.

"To us."