The low rumbling outside grew louder. Hamilton turned over in his sleep, pulling his pillow over his head.
The engine kicked up, backfired a couple times.
Hamilton opened one eye... What's that annoying noise?
He looked at the window. The sky glowed through it like a TV screen, electric cornflower blue with pink just beginning to bleed into it. Early morning colors. Much too early to be awake. He closed his eyes, drifting off again...
Then he heard the squeaking hiss of the school bus doors closing, and the grunting and straining of the engine as the bus finally lurched forward and pulled away.
The bus...
Jake!
A terrified spasm in his stomach pulled Hamilton upright, and for a split second his heart stopped beating. This was the moment he'd been dreading, the moment the bus left for the airport and stole Jake away for three whole weeks of winter break.
But then just as quickly, and with a rush of relief, he remembered that she wasn't going anywhere.
*She's staying here.*
Hamilton smiled sleepily and looked out the window to the ground below. The dark blue school bus wove its way down the little snow-covered road that ran from the Rawley quadrangle, past Hamilton's house and to the main road beyond. But Jake wasn't on it. His girlfriend and best friend was spending Christmas with him.
*She's staying here.*
Hamilton was so excited, he almost pulled back the covers, almost ignored that voice in his head that reminded him that vacations are for sleeping in, almost got out of bed at whatever insane hour it was.
Almost.
Instead he collapsed onto his pillow, but not before giving a tiny wave to the bus as it rumbled off. Those asshole Rawley guys were all going away, the guys who had harassed him for the past four months because they thought he was dating a guy. They were all leaving and taking their snide comments and prejudices with them, leaving Hamilton all alone with his beautiful girlfriend...
"Hamilton, get up!"
...And his parents.
Hamilton opened his eyes as his mother's voice broke through his reverie. He blinked -- the room was much brighter now, sunlight streaming in, but he could've sworn he was awake just a second ago.
"What time is it?" he groaned.
"It's almost 9:00," Kate informed him as she walked into his room and started picking his dirty clothes up off the floor.
"Why are you waking me up so early?"
Kate almost laughed at the lack of any irony in his voice. "If Jake is staying here, we need to get this place cleaned up. I'm doing laundry right now. I want you to put clean sheets on the bed in the guest room."
Guest room. That didn't sound right. Suddenly Hamilton was very much awake.
"Guest room?" he repeated.
"For Jake."
"Oh... But, he can just sleep in my room, can't he?"
Kate looked at him. "Sure, Munchie. I just figured you were getting a little old for sleepovers, but if that's what you-"
"Well, I just figured that we'd..."
"No, it's fine," Kate said quickly. "Just put clean sheets on the trundle bed. Come on, hop to it."
Hamilton forced himself up as his mother disappeared into hallway. He sat on the edge of the bed and yawned, then knelt down and slid the trundle out from beneath the bed, lifting it up until the squeaky metal legs locked. The mattress was dusty. It hadn't been slept on for almost three years.
And if all went well, Hamilton thought with a sly smile, it wouldn't be slept on anytime soon.
* * * * *
Cleaning was not Hamilton's specialty, and it was already afternoon by the time he left to collect Jake from her dorm and bring her home with him. The sky over the quad was pale blue except for a few swathes of thin winter clouds, and snow covered the ground, another generous dousing from the night before. Hamilton smiled at the ghostly emptiness of the brick and stone buildings around him, marveling at how strange it was that this was once the loneliest time of year for him.
*She's staying here.*
He'd been repeating it to himself like a mantra all morning. All those years that he'd wished for another kid to be there on Christmas morning to show off his toys to, to play the video games with, to play military commandos and run around the house and shoot each other. Sure, now he was a little bit older, but still... Jake appreciated a good video game. Quake, Doom, Myst, Tomb Raider, sex --
Sex? How did that get in there? Hamilton shook his head. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Having Jake in his bedroom was going to be the best Christmas present of all.
This would be the best Christmas ever.
He skipped up the steps of the dorm, pulled open the heavy oak door, and escaped the cold. It was so quiet inside, so empty, like an abandoned mansion from some gothic Victorian novel.
Damn! Why'd he have to go thinking about Victorian novels? Just when he'd managed to forget about the English lit final...
But it was always this time of year, with the students gone, that he was most aware of the transitory nature of the world around him, juxtaposed with the permanence that was Rawley. The faces changed from year to year - perhaps that was why he so rarely befriended any of them - but the smell always remained the same. The air held the musty odor of muddy snow tracked across the hardwood floors, mingled with the scent of aged wood, cleaned all the time yet dust settled everywhere, on every oak railing and piece of wainscoting and trim. As a photographer, he had a million pictures of the place, filling books stacked on the shelves of his bedroom and overflowing into the linen closet and whatever other space his mother would grant him. But none of the photos could capture that smell, that dust that never went away but seeped in, took hold, and lingered to create the scent of history, of tradition, of self-importance. That, Hamilton thought, was Rawley.
Now he laughed at that sense of tradition as he walked down the hall to the room of his cross-dressing girlfriend. Oh how old Captain Rawley would be turning in his grave if he knew... When he and his Puritan brethren first settled the town, and the school shortly thereafter, they didn't even believe that women should be educated. They thought it would only lead to witchcraft.
Hamilton passed room after quiet room until he reached Jake's door. The irrational part of his mind hoped she might still be in bed, and he could just go in and slide under the covers next to her. But no such luck. When he let himself into her room, she was sitting in her usual perch at her computer.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," she replied. Hamilton stepped up beside her and kissed her. Jake hit a button and made her screen disappear.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Maybe I don't want you to know."
Hamilton raised an eyebrow. "O-K..." He flopped down on the bed. "Here's the deal -"
"Deal? I thought everything was OK." She turned around in her chair to look at him.
"Not quite. My dad expects me to go with him and my mom to this educators' conference in Houston the week after New Year's. So you can stay with us 'til then, but then I guess you'll have to go to Palm Springs or New York or whatever for a week."
"That's fine. As long as I get to spend Christmas with you."
"You do."
At that, Jake smiled finally. Hamilton continued, "But I hope you don't mind sleeping in the guest room."
Jake's smile disappeared. "What? Do I have to?"
Hamilton liked playing this game. "Weren't you the one who said we weren't ready to sleep in the same room together?"
"That was, like, four moths ago. We were a little less, um, *intimate* than we are now."
"Well..." he said, a smile flickering the corners of his mouth. "I'll see what I can do." He sat up on the bed and leaned forward to kiss her.
She kissed him quickly but then got up. "I'm all packed. We can go in just a minute."
"What's your hurry?"
"Well, for one, we were all supposed to be out of the dorms by noon today."
"So if you've already broken the rule..." He grabbed her hand, and she sat down next to him on the bed. "I think we should take full advantage of it."
They kissed again, deeper this time. Jake curled her hand around Hamilton's ear, which was still cold from being outside. She pulled him close to her, wanting to warm him, wanting to... There were so many things she wanted to do to him, but she knew they had almost two weeks together, and they should pace themselves.
They fell back on the bed together. Jake drew up one of her legs and hooked it over his hip, and his hands groped down to her waist and then up under her shirt, knowing exactly where they were going. He had grown so adept at ripping off her corset, it was unfastened before Jake even realized what he was doing.
"Wait!" she said, sitting up suddenly. The corset dropped around her waist.
"What?"
"Aren't your parents expecting us back at your place?"
"My mom's not standing on the porch with a stopwatch, if that's what you mean."
"I know, but... maybe we should continue this later."
"Jake, how often do we get time together when no one's going to walk in on us, no one's going to give us that *look* when we walk out of your room..."
"Well..."
"Never. The answer to the question is *never*."
"We can always sneak back in here tomorrow. I'm looking forward to exploring Rawley with you, seeing all of your secret places -"
"Funny, that's exactly what I was thinking." He raised an eyebrow and smiled.
"Down, boy." She ran her fingers through his hair. "You know what I mean. We talked about doing all the things you didn't get to do as a kid because you didn't have someone to play with. I'm curious about what those things are."
Hamilton sighed and sat up. "Hey, if you're not in the mood, that's fine. It's just..."
"Just what?"
He smiled again. "I've never seen you not in the mood before."
"That's not it. Really."
Hamilton walked over to her luggage. "Jake, rule #1 of pretending to be a guy, don't pack two suitcases to travel five hundred yards."
"I needed lots of room for all your presents. The bigger suitcase is full of them, so no peeking."
"Uh-oh. Are you trying to out-do me?"
"You said we're going to make this the best Christmas ever. I'm just trying to rise to the challenge."
"I wasn't trying to make it a contest. I'm just psyched that we'll be together."
"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt to have a few presents to open on Christmas morning, does it?"
"Actually, at my house we open presents on Christmas Eve, after dinner. Christmas day is more low-key."
"Christmas Eve, then." Jake picked up the big suitcase. "I'll be ready."
* * * * *
When they walked into Hamilton's house, it smelled to Jake exactly like Christmas - potpourri and pine needles.
"Hey, guys!" Kate called from the living room. "Come on in."
Jake followed Hamilton into the warm room where a fire was crackling in the fireplace and a huge tree stood in front of the bay windows. "Wow."
Hamilton looked at her curiously. "Wow?"
"That's the most beautiful tree I've ever seen."
"What'd you expect? My mom's an artist. Our tree is always a work of art."
And it was. Full and green and glowing with soft lights, decorated with silver and gold bows and some very avant-garde ornaments.
"Hi, Mrs. Fleming," Jake greeted Kate, who was sitting on the couch and attempting to straighten all of the magazines on the coffee table. "Thanks for letting me stay here."
"Jake, we're delighted to have you. I'm so sorry your mother got stuck in Paris."
Jake looked at Hamilton. She wasn't sure what he'd told his mother. So she decided to change the subject. "That's a gorgeous tree."
Kate stood up. "Thank you. The ornaments are all handmade, most of them by my students."
Jake walked over to the tree and examined it. One of the ornaments was just a bunch of thumbtacks stuck into a styrofoam ball. Some of them were crayon on construction paper or little finger paintings, obviously made by a small child.
"Did you make these?" she asked Hamilton.
Hamilton groaned. "She made me do an ornament every year ever since I could hold a crayon."
"Oh, since before that," Kate corrected him, showing him a paper circle with a blue baby footprint on it.
"You can trace my artistic development by this tree," Hamilton said.
"That's so s--" Jake stopped herself from saying 'sweet,' not wanting to sound girlie. "--cool."
Hamilton pointed to an ornament that was just a solid black square. "From my existentialist period."
"Hamilton was such a cute nihilist at ten," Kate cooed, kissing his temple. He ducked away and made a face at her. Kate glanced at Jake, then laughed. "Oh, yeah, I'm not supposed to kiss you in front of the guys."
"That makes two of us," Jake mumbled under her breath. Hamilton caught it and shot her a look.
"What?" Kate asked.
"Nothing." Jake shoved her hands in her pockets, did her boy slouch, and walked around to the other side of the tree. "This really is amazing, Mrs. Fleming."
"Thank you, Jake. I think you'd enjoy it even more if you took off your coat and sat down, maybe have some eggnog. Hamilton, your father should be home soon. He insists that he's officially on vacation as of 5:00."
"Yeah, right," was Hamilton's reply.
"You guys interested in Chinese for supper? I thought about going into town and getting take-out from that new place."
"Sounds good to me," Jake said with a shrug. But she was losing her appetite as it was finally sinking in that she would be spending the next ten days under the watchful eye not only of Hamilton's mother but also of Dean Fleming.
* * * * *
Jake didn't talk much at dinner, despite Kate's constant questions. The Dean seemed to be more interested in grilling his son.
"Hamilton, you don't happen to know who set off that explosion on top of the library last night, do you?"
Hamilton and Jake exchanged a quick glance. He had to be talking about the prank they had set off, but that was just a computerized photo display, with one little Roman candle Hamilton sneaked in at the end.
"'Explosion' is a harsh word, Dad. It doesn't convey the beauty and ingenuity of that particular work of art."
"Work of art? Is that what you call theft and vandalism and the illegal use of fireworks?"
"What theft and vandalism?"
"Those were school computers."
"Looked to me like they were just relocated, not stolen."
"There was a snowstorm last night. If we hadn't gotten the computers down off the roof in time, they would've been destroyed. It took the custodian two hours to get them back down, and I'm sure that's time he would've rather spent home with his family."
Hamilton stabbed at his egg roll. "Well, I'm sure whoever did it feels terribly guilty and just wishes he could be a better person."
"Whoever did it has a knack for photography. And computers."
"Well, Dad, if I think of someone who matches that description, I'll be sure to rat him out to you. 'Cuz that'll really make me popular with the guys."
"Steven," Kate jumped in, "it's not a big deal. There's a prank every semester. It's a tradition."
The Dean sighed. "I just hoped that with that Prescott kid gone, I'd finally get a break. We still haven't figured out how to turn the statue of Captain Rawley back to its original color."
"Zinc oxide wears away over time." Jake looked up, realizing she hadn't meant to get involved in this conversation. "I mean, if that's what it was."
Kate smiled. "I think yellow is a great color on the old Captain."
Hamilton set his chopsticks down on his half-empty plate. "I'm full."
"You barely ate," his mother argued.
He shrugged. "I'm full. Jake, how about you? Ready to get your butt kicked at Mondo Soccer?"
Jake's plate was also mostly full, but she nodded. "Yeah, I'm done."
"I moved the Playstation up to my room. It's a smaller TV, but this way we won't bother anybody. Besides," -- he grinned at his mother as he stood up -- "the Playstation will soon be obsolete when I get my Playstation 2."
Kate rolled her eyes. "Keep dreaming, cyber-boy."
* * * * *
Three hours later, and much to Hamilton's chagrin, Jake had wiped the floor with him, beating him at every video game he owned.
"Look at that," Jake laughed as she ran Hamilton's car off the road and into a telephone pole. "The Munch got crunched."
"That's not fair. You have more driving experience than I do."
"Yeah, right. Because this has *so* much to do with real-life experience."
Kate popped her head through the open door. "Guys, I'm going to bed. Jake, do you need anything?"
With a lowered voice, Jake replied, "No, I'm fine, Mrs. Fleming. Thanks."
"OK. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Mom," Hamilton called. He waited until she was gone, then turned to look at Jake. "What do you want to do now?"
"You don't want to play anymore?"
"Not tonight. I think I'm off my game."
"Well, why don't you pick up the shattered little pieces of your ego off the floor, and let's go have some eggnog and sit in front of the fire."
Hamilton smiled. Not his first choice, but it would do.
* * * * *
They left the lights off in the living room to appreciate the beauty of the tree. Settled on the couch with Hamilton next to her, Jake took a sip of her eggnog and let the creamy sweetness of it slide coolly over her tongue. But it wasn't the drink she was savoring. It felt so good to be out of her stifling dorm room and in a real home, a warm home, a home that, despite all of Hamilton's complaints about his parents, Jake could feel was full of love. The moment was so perfect, and Jake couldn't help what always happened when things seemed too good to be true... the anxieties that inevitably flooded her mind...
"Are you going to get in trouble?" she asked out of the blue, keeping her voice to a whisper.
"For what?"
"For the prank."
"No way. My dad's got nothing on us."
"What if someone saw us up on the roof when we setting up?"
"Nobody saw us. It was the last day of term. Everyone was too excited and too busy trying to get out of here."
"What about the teachers?"
"Especially the teachers." Hamilton smiled and turned his gaze to her face. His blue eyes twinkled, reflecting the Christmas lights.
"What?" Jake asked suspiciously, recognizing the glimmer that always meant he was planning something.
"I want you to sleep in my bed tonight." He paused, but Jake's glare begged for clarification, so he continued, "With me."
Jake almost choked on her eggnog. "Yeah, right!" she replied sarcastically. "Speaking of getting in trouble..."
"Come on. We won't get caught."
"I hate to say it, Ham, but your credibility on that point is kind of shot." She gave him a pointed look, and he knew she was recalling a certain incident in the showers.
"I'll set the alarm to wake us up early."
"What if your mom peeks in on us in the middle of the night?"
"She won't."
"So you're psychic now?"
Hamilton's playful smile melted into a scowl. "Fine, if you don't want to."
He turned away and glowered at the fire.
Jake knit her brows. "OK, here's an idea. Let's see if your mom comes in tonight. If she doesn't, I'll sleep with you - I mean, I'll sleep in your bed - tomorrow night."
Her Freudian slip brought a smile back to Hamilton's face for a moment. "But how will we know if she came in?"
Jake grinned, and beckoned him to follow her upstairs. He got up and tiptoed after her.
Once they were back in his room, she closed the door and looked around on his
desk. She picked up an index card.
"Perfect," she said, walking back to him.
"For what?"
Jake set the index card down on the carpet, leaning it against the closed door. "If she opens the door, it'll fall over."
Hamilton smiled, nodding. "The Hardy Boys ride again."