A life you don't live is still lost.
Have some Lash/Layla ice cream for your winter cravings, mkay?
-
"The Williams'." I deadpanned, unsure if I had heard her right.
"Yes. It's so kind of them to invite us over this year. It seems as though that our own family has not come into touch with us since...the incident." My mother had crossed her arms, the light of the kitchen showing her aging face in an ugly way, her dark brown hair thinning, grays tickling to peek through the roots on her head.
I sighed, tapping my fingers in a drumming beat on the table, surveying the countertop. "But Mah -" Her eyes widened. Shit, I forgot she hated being called that. "Muhm. Do you not remember Layla and her little groupies putting us away?" My mom stared blankly at me. "You know, little Layla? Redhaired, little bitch, Layla?"
"Lash, watch the language." She turned on her heel away, and opened the oven to check upon the pie inside. "Now get dressed. We leave soon." Grumbling, I stood, towering over her form, and walked out to the hall, stretching the stairs to my room.
So what do you wear to an enemy's Christmas dinner? "Canni wear my usual?" I called down, picking up a few of my black shirts from the floor.
"No!"
Aw, fuck. That sucks.
Drowning my face into my closet now, I grabbed the first thing I saw on a hook. Okay. A white button-up.
And from when I was in the 6th grade. Smooth.
"But you can bring an extra outfit just in case!" In case what? In case what, mah?
Flicking the light switch, I noticed as the light hit my eyes that I seriously lacked any special occasion clothes. God...Christmas dinner with the Williams'. Just like old times. What the fuck. I nearly fell into the black pit that was my closet, as I grasped a hold of the last hanger on the far end. Ah, my homecoming outfit. Such a memory.
"I got nothin'!" I yelled, dropping what was in my hands to the floor.
"Damnit, Lash!" She cried. "Whatever. Wear what you want."
"Alright." I said happily, tugging off my nightshirt to toss on my black '23' shirt, accompanied with stripes. Ahh, my stripes. So glorious.
I shook my head, running my fingers through my hair to mess it up a bit better.
God. I 'd have been better without Layla Williams for one holiday, thanks.
---
The door opened to a warm home, Christmas decorations hung up from anywhere you could leave a string of anything on. Popcorn balls, small colorful bulbs hooked to lampshades, excess garland. I nearly gagged, but the smell of my mom's pineapple pie sorta...stopped it.
Layla's mother, Amanda, rubbed her hands together and ushered us inside, giving us a smile, a one-armed hug as she pushed us into the living room. She attacked me once again, wrapping her arms around my torso and squeezing. "Hi, Amanda." I laughed, patting her head. I would never admit it, but I always held a soft spot for the older woman.
"Oh, Lash, you clumsy boy..." She muttered, smacking my arm. "You can be so dumb sometimes."
"You said it, girly." My mom said, placing her purse on the arm of their couch.
"Lashy, Lashy!" I heard next, feet stumbling and running down stairs. A little person jumped four bottom stairs, tiny arms up, a smile on its pale face. Their green eyes sparkled in the tree lights across the room, and the body slammed into my legs.
"Oomfph." I groaned, placing my hands on her red hair.
"Oh, Lashy do a bahd fing!" It babbled, and I couldn't help but chuckle, ducking low to pick her up into my arms.
"Ah, but Fifi, do you forgive me?"
"Oh course!" She cried, wrapping her arms around my neck. I spun her twice and she gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "I can't be mad at my Lashy! Never ever!"
God. I almost forgot Layla's kid sister Fiona. She was four, and so lovable. I think she was the only one in this damn family that didn't even care about my week in jail. This girl was smart. Way smart.
"That's good to hear." I hoisted her against my chest as I walked a bit into the kitchen area, and her red pigtails tossed themselves into my eyes. "Did Santa bring you everything you wanted?"
"Iono!" She jumped from my hold, giggling. "We haven't opened presents yet!" Still, after so long, she punched my knuckles, a sign of her affection, and darted away. Fiona would be back. I remember on Thanksgiving, that she told me that she told all of her friends that she had a boyfriend. That she 'loved him and kissed him and laughed when he was stupid and loved him and made him snacks and..." Gees the list goes on. And guess who she was talking about. Just...guess.
"Well look what the lioness dragged in."
I closed my eyes, and crunched my fists together to my sides, breathing slowly. And then I grinded my teeth, sucking in the urge to lock her in the pantry closet. Hey, I've done it before.
"Well at least when she did I still looked attractive."
"To the buzzards." She bit back. Turning completely around, I opened my eyes to see Layla Marianne Williams, her arms crossed, her body leaning against the doorframe to the living room.
"Isn't that wonderful."
"Lash, please don't, this year?" She whispered, sighing quietly. "I just...don't want to deal with your crap."
"Shit. Just say it. Shit."
"No." I rolled my eyes at her protest, and shoved passed her to enter the living room.
As I sat down on the couch, I realized no one was trying to punch me in the face. Stronghold wasn't here. "Hey, Manda?"
"Yes, Lash honey?" She called from the hallway, clearly in a deep conversation with my mother.
"Imma go sit with Lash." I heard, feet running down the hardwood floor of the hall to come into the clearing.
"Where are the Stronghold's?"
"Oh - they turned us down at the last minute." Fiona said for her mom, jumping up onto the sofa next to me, kicking her legs into my lap as she reached back. Pulling a candy cane off their decorated tree, she offered it to me with a smile.
How odd. Maybe they found out we were coming, and didn't want to face us. God, we're neighbors for fuck's sake! "That's Fi." I stretched my neck to peck her forehead, and she had cuddled into my chest, kicking off her buckled shoes to the floor. Unwrapping the sugary treat, I stuck it into my mouth, watching the time pass slowly on the clock above the TV on the opposite side of the room. Fiona reached to the top of my head and messed it up, causing me to laugh from behind my teeth, still gripping the candy tightly.
"Will you kiss me under the mistletoe soon?" She wondered, her big green eyes reflecting the lights all around us. I laughed, and pulled her into my lap, squishing her to me. She was the only one to bring this side out of me. Only her. Lucky little one.
"Maybe."
"Ooh!" The four year old cried happily. "An' Layla? You'll kiss her too?"
I nearly choked on the cane, but I pulled it out in time. "Fi, I doubt it."
"Why?" Her voice was curious, her fingers on my face, squishing my cheeks. "You've done it before..."
I froze. How did she know that? She wasn't even born when it happened! "How the...?" Yeah, I was about nine, maybe.
"I have my ways." She said mysteriously, pulling out her cheek at me, an inclination that I was to kiss it. Well, being the boytoy, I had to. It was a quick peck, but she squealed happily, giggling freely before placing her face against my chest once again.
---
Dinner was brutal. Amanda sat next to my mom, and decided to place me and Layla together, Fiona on the opposite side. She was both excited, and sad, for many different things. And I would do nearly anything to trade seats.
But the food was excellent. You could never not count on the Williams' food to be wonderful. It was almost impossible. and the meat, was apparently okay to eat. Something about Amanda saying that their old pet Albert, would be honored to be consumed by the family for Christmas at his old age or something...
"It would be great to have Dad home." Layla muttered quietly, chewing her food slowly. The ham in my mouth stopped abruptly, the glaze it was covered in drizzling down my throat. I looked to Fiona, who had pouted into her potatoes, and then glanced at Layla. It was one of those secrets we shared at one point in time - when we were close friends.
"It would be amazing to have all the troops home for Christmas, honey." Amanda whispered, gripping the wine glass in front of her a bit tightly. I knew it hurt her. "But even as we may wish, it won't come true this year. Not for us."
Fiona wasn't one to handle sadness as well as the rest of us. She was, after all, only a young girl. So with tears dripping onto her plate, the little one sniffed, grinding her teeth.
You see, the littlest things from Layla's mouth just make me want to walk away. We used to be okay, and then something happened. Something snapped. Our connection was cut off. With an irritated swing of my foot to the right, I kicked Layla's. The tiny piece of ham on her fork fell, and she bit into metal. The redhead gave me a dark look, but stabbed it again to gnaw at it quietly. She said no words, but I knew I was in for a lecture later. On what she'd bitch about, I had no idea. This was her fault, making her sister cry. Making her mother sound nearly heartless.
Maybe it was me. Our friendship quit after I started hanging out with Speed. Iono - but I was out with the guys more often than I was inside with a handful of women. Kinda chose Speed more often. So maybe it was me.
Maybe it was both of us.
But as I took a sip of the golden eggnog, I thought of how we used to be. How much fun we had. And our mistletoe kiss.
God, our secrets. Hell that was one of them. Amanda and Mom never knew about it - and I'm sure as hell Stronghold never did, either. Good thing, too, cause he'd be the dumbass to figure I liked her or something, and try to rub it in my face. But no - I'm good. Well, ha, not really. But I'm not evil. You get what I mean.
Anyway, when dinner finished, I got up and walked silently towards the living room. "Wait!" Fiona called, wiping her hands on a napkin to run after me. As she ran up to me, I lifted her into my arms, groaning lightly. That was when I saw it.
Same for her.
"Ooh!" She giggled. "Yay, mistletoe!" And with that, she smiled, pushing her lips forward. Another peck on the mouth, she laughed, jumping down to run for the sofa. To marvel at their decorations. To her, our little kisses were usual. Nothing too special.
And I'm kinda dreading, sorta hoping though, for the day she 'breaks up' with me. For another boy her age. Do I have to act jealous? I'd not be, but I'd damn well make sure he treats her right.
"Lash come with me and sit!" She whispered excitedly, patting the seat beside her.
"All right - all right." I chuckled. "I'm coming."
---
"I don't even know why you woke up this morning."
"I don't know why you're such a bitter bitch, but hey, I don't wanna know." I snapped, throwing my hands into the air.
It was me, and Layla. Bad. She was sitting on her bed, her legs crossed, her arms and palms holding her up while she glared at me. And me? I was in the damn doorframe, wanting to wring her neck. Layla was such a bitch to me, and she didn't have a good excuse as to why. Or one at all.
Maybe she was acting this way from the incident back in October. God, that was lame. She knew I wouldn't let her get hurt. Or did she? Oh gees. Gwen was a total loss of control.
"You are so infuriating!" She snarled, her red hair falling into her face. It looked so unnatural - but yet so sexy. Not like Layla.
And then it was quiet. She seemed to have wanted to say something more, but we stayed in our positions, nearly ten feet away from each other, silent. And in this silence, I could hear the soft festivities of Amanda, my mother, and little Fiona. It made me want to punch the wall, how the two of us could not enjoy this Christmas together like old times. The old times, when neither of us really remembered any of our faults. When we hung out like I hang out with Speed nowadays. Nonstop videos games. Trips to the city. Birthday parties - and our single, mistletoe kiss.
"What..." I whispered, feeling the room change - her mood was calmer. "Happened to us?" My eyes closed as I thought of the past, and I heard her shift to her feet, crossing the bedroom to stand across me.
Little did she - nor I, at the time - know that the cursed kissing plant hung above the two of us. No one saw it - we were upstairs and no one would call it upon us. And we did nothing.
"I'm not sure Lash. But a lot's different."
"I hate this." I managed to murmur, lowering my head and opening my eyes. She was reaching for my right hand, and with instinct, I gave it. Two pale hands, our fingers entwining loosely between us.
"We could fix it." I heard her say, stepping closer, her red hair the only thing I could really see - her face was turned down to our feet. Could we really? Would it work? And how would we?
More importantly... "You think Stronghold would like that?" I know for a fact that he'll be pissed about a remade friendship - but even with super-strength, the boy was a pussy. He wouldn't try to ruin it. So then why did I think it was important?
"He's not here at the moment, Lash." Layla stepped a bit closer, her forehead resting on my chest.
I wanted to know what triggered this. And I wanted to just close my eyes and hug her like old times. We never had to care for so much then as we do now.
"So where is he? Home, with a pig on his plate?" It was no different than our own - why not come here? Was I poisonous to them or something? Goddamn. And it's not like it mattered to me, but still. He was Layla's boyfriend. Yugch.
"Peru with his family, visiting his granddad."
"Oh."
Her face turned, and her hands that were close to her face had fallen to her sides. "But nice guess."
I tossed my head back as we laughed, and closed my eyes, feeling her arms slowly slide their way past my ribs and circle, holding me tight. And with baited breath, I lowered my chin upon the top of her head, sighing gently into her lavender-scented hair. Lifting my arms so that I could hug her in return, I opened my eyes and peered up at the ceiling, holding her close.
And there it was - just swinging lightly, little silver bells hidden in its green leaves. A flashback came to mind, so I blew the air, hearing the bells chime and jingle as they swung wildly. Layla froze up, but even in her tense state, she looked at me. "No one'll know about it." It was shaken, but I knew how she felt.
I nodded, composing myself. "Yeah. we weren't standing here - and this so happened to not be hanging here. Screw tradition."
"No, Lash -" She protested. "Tradition is tradition - you can't blow it off."
"So you're saying that you want to follow?" I was floored. Really?
"Lash, it doesn't hurt - it's just a kiss." I couldn't help but agree. That's all it was, truly.
Without words, we loosened our hold on one another, looking past the colors of our eyes. and I dipped low, reaching up to her chin and raising her face. It was much less clumsier than it had been many Christmases ago...right about where we stood now. I remember her biting her tongue as she had risen her face to stare at me. She was seven then. Now, she gives me a weak smile, as if remembering the same thing.
I saw how colorful the lights made her eyes pop. I also saw her arm rise to my neck, her mouth opening shortly. In only a moment...
Our lips touched lightly, and I stroked her cheek, remembering. God, I hated looking back at how much of an ass I'd been. How much of a bitch I thought she'd turned out to be.
And here's when it went a little beyond a Christmas kiss. My left hand, securely placed on her waist, slid behind her to press her against me. Our mouths parted - but came back together with a little more of a push. And Layla, the taken one, had sighed heavenly with every parting.
"Kids?" We almost fell, but as she stumbled back I caught her quick, hearing an airy laugh rise out of her throat. This made ME chuckle, and I ducked my head so our foreheads were together. We laughed - hard.
"Down in a minute!" Layla breathed, hugging me. "Do you think anything'll be the same as before?" She asked me, hopefulness in her voice.
I didn't even think - I didn't need to - about what she was referring to. Old times. Our old times. Before high school - when we were still in the single-digit years of our lives. I didn't have to tell her - she knew.
"No."
---
And so ended the night, a cup of golden eggnog between my fingers as I watched the flames of the fire in the fireplace lick the bricks behind it lovingly. I sat alone, thinking of nothing but how the flames created wondrous pictures.
Layla was watching me from the doorway to the kitchen. I could see her from the corner of my eye, but I didn't look to her. Not exactly. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and I placed the cup on the side table. The sigh from her mouth that she released was loud, and my eyes shut, my head hitting the back end of the sofa. She moved.
Sitting beside me on my right, she had swung her legs up into my lap and over, turning her head into my collarbone. My arm wrapped around her and pulled her close, rubbing her back gently as she rested her right hand on my ribs. We didn't have to say anything. It wasn't questionable.
Then the little feet. Layla giggled once as Fiona charged from the kitchen, jumping onto the couch beside me. I opened my left arm and she pounced into my lap, curling into a ball as she gripped my shirt.
"Happy, now." She whispered, kissing my and Layla's cheeks softly. I smiled, and bent both girls close. Lowering my head, I had pressed my mouth upon Layla's forehead, drifting slowly to sleep.
"Merry Christmas."
-
Review, my loves!