The morning of Christmas Eve. Probably one of the least important mornings in the whole year, like the morning of Halloween or Bonfire Night. Everyone lying in bed, everything waiting for the evening. Then again, it could hardly be less important than any other morning in those continuous blank squares of calendar, unmarked except for the number that told of how far this particular emptiness was through the month. Marth sat up in bed and stared out the window. What did people do in the mornings, really? Brush their teeth, get dressed, have breakfast? Nothing significant. And yet this nothing-time was what set up the whole day, they time when you think 'yes, a new day' or 'it's downhill from here'. And as Marth looked out the window and saw the dull grey sky he thought, Shine, you stupid sun. Don't you know first impressions count?
"Marth!" His sister Elisse came running into his room, interrupting his musings. "How do I look?"
Like you've drunk too much coffee. He could smell it on her breath. There was no other way she'd be awake this early.
"You look lovely."
"Thank you." She flounced down on the end of his bed. "I'm going to see Merric."
"Now? Isn't it a bit early?"
"We're spending the day together. I'll be back by the evening."
"Right."
"Don't look sad. I've grown out of the whole family Christmas idea. Merric is my boyfriend." She looked elated. "The weather forecast says it's going to snow as well." She hugged him, beaming.
"See you later then," Marth mumbled.
"I'm sure you'll have fun without me. You can play board games with mum and dad, or sit and read one of your textbooks."
Marth blushed. It was true he liked to get ahead academically in the holidays, but he knew it wasn't what people normally did, and he should probably do something a little less constructive and a little more fun.
"Anyway, see you later bro." She left his room still smiling. She was always asking their parents if she could meet up with someone or other. Marth wondered how she got any schoolwork done.
With Elisse gone he spent most of the morning simply wondering what to do. After breakfast he got changed and sat on his bed with a book, intending to read but secretly wishing he could think of something else to do. As Elisse had predicted it had since started snowing but he didn't fancy going out in it. His parents would be going to pick up some of his mum's friends later, but until then it was just time to be killed. He checked under the bed for the presents he had bought the other day, now carefully wrapped including the coffee maker that had caused such amusement.
In the end he did read, whilst his mother downstairs prepared some of the elements for that evening's dinner, and his father spent the time on the computer in the study, doing goodness-knows-what that couldn't be interrupted. And all the while outside the snow continued to fall, heavy and fast, building up on the trees and rooftops.
It was shortly after lunch that his parents set out in the car to pick up his mum's friends, as they lived about an hour's drive away and had only a motorbike for transport, which wasn't deemed safe given the weather conditions. Marth wished his parents goodbye, and closed the front door. He was alone.
Determined not to be self-pitiful he went into the lounge and turned the radio up, losing himself in the music. But after several Christmas tunes he turned it off and opted for the television instead. There was something wrong about listening to Christmas music with no one there, no background laughter or Christmas crackers being pulled to muffle the sound.
One hour passed. Marth went into the kitchen and got himself a pack of crisps before returning to the sofa.
Another hour passed. Marth flicked from one channel to the next. There was nothing interesting on. A film he'd seen several times before was on one channel, a programme on antiques on the next, a couple moving house on the next… He gave up and watched some adverts mindlessly, expecting his parents home any minute.
A further half and hour passed and then the phone rang, just as he was beginning to worry. He rushed to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Hi Marth, it's mum. It's bad news, I'm afraid. There's been an accident on the A12, news is just getting through. It's the weather, I reckon. It's going to be at least another hour by the looks of things; I don't know how bad it is. Nothing's moving."
"Oh no…"
"I'll keep you posted. Are you alright at home?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
"Good. Just put a film on or something and wait for us. Okay?"
"Okay mum."
"See you later. Bye."
"Bye." Marth hung up. Surely there wouldn't be much traffic on Christmas Eve? But then any traffic at all would be held up by an accident. He sat by the phone, staring at it. What was he supposed to do now? The TV hummed in the background, the obvious solution. He sighed. It just didn't feel like Christmas. Of course, he only had to wait for his parents or sister to come back, and failing that the Christmas party was only tomorrow. But right now it felt like weeks away. He felt lonely.
He stared at the phone, willing it to ring. It didn't, of course. Marth supposed even salespeople got Christmas Eve off. He picked up the phone and listened to the dull, expectant tone. There was a number that he knew off by heart that he could call, but did he have a reason to? He hesitated a moment. But why not? There was no harm in just a quick call to wish Ike merry Christmas. He dialled. The phone rang a long time, and he almost hung up. But after each ring he felt sure that Ike would answer. He didn't. The dull voice of the answering machine disappointed him more than he dared to admit. Ike hadn't even personalised his voicemail.
Please leave a message after the tone.
The flat single note that signalled for him to speak almost took him by surprise. He hadn't thought about what to say. Should he leave a message? Was there a point? He was seeing Ike tomorrow. But Ike would see that he had called; he might think there was something wrong. No, he ought to leave a message. He opened his mouth to speak but suddenly his breath hitched, and fearing that he was about to cry he hung up. The tears never came. Marth swallowed and stared at the phone. So now he'd left one of those weird silent messages. Great. But what could he do – call Ike again? And what if it was the answering machine again?
He went back into the lounge to watch more television. He needed to think of an excuse for why he had left a random blank message on Ike's answerphone. Perhaps he had been distracted? But by what? No, best to keep it as simple as possible. He'd simply dialled and…zoned out. That would do. Dialled and zoned out, forgotten what he was doing, didn't realise it had gone through to answerphone etcetera. That would sort it. Now he was just back to his original problem of trying to find something interesting to watch on TV.
Another ten minutes passed. Marth was playing toss with the remote control when the phone rang. He went to answer it, hoping his mum was ring to tell him the accident had been cleared and they were on their way.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Marth?"
"Oh, Ike!"
"You called a couple of minutes ago. Sorry I missed it; my relatives are making a racket."
"Ok." Marth smiled. He could hear them chatting in the background.
"Was there any reason you called?"
"Oh, no, not really. Just…felt like it." He blushed and was glad Ike couldn't see him.
"Are you having fun at home then?" Ike asked.
"My sister's gone out with her boyfriend and my parents went to pick up some friends but there's been an accident and apparently there's going to be quite a delay. So at the moment it's just me."
"Oh right, yeah I think I heard something about an accident on the radio. Hang on – they're not on the A12, are they?"
"Yes…"
"That's pretty bad. I don't know a lot, but I think a lot of cars were involved."
"Oh…"
"Sorry Marth, you might be waiting a while."
"I guess I'll put a film on or something."
"Probably a good idea." He paused. "I only live a couple of minutes away – do you want me to come over for a bit?"
"Um…" Marth wanted to say yes but felt embarrassed at the idea of needing the company, especially when he'd seen Ike yesterday and the day before and was going to see him tomorrow.
"I'm okay," he said at last. "I wouldn't want to take you away from your relatives on Christmas Eve."
"Oh they wouldn't mind. Are you sure?"
"Um…" Don't ask me that. Why did you ask me that? Of course I'm not sure. "I don't…know." Marth, get a grip.
On the other end of the line, Ike laughed. "Should I take that as a yes?"
Yes. No. Yes. Answer, Marth. "Ok…"
"I'll be only a few minutes. See you in a bit." Ike hung up and after a pause so did Marth. He felt happy. Happy, and nervous.
After Ike had hung up he raced to get his jacket so that he could go. He was fairly sure his parents would be okay with it… Rushing, he pulled on socks and shoes and rummaged in his pocket for his set of house keys.
"Ike, where are you going?" His mum.
"I'm going to go to Marth's for a bit." He crossed his fingers inside his pocket.
"What on earth for?"
"I won't be long."
"But why are you going?"
He paused with his hand on the door. "Because it's Christmas Eve and he's home alone."
Marth checked his hair in the mirror for the fifth time. Yes, it was fine. But did he want it to be fine? What if it looked like he had done it up just for Ike? He hadn't really, but he did want to look nice… Oh blast, it's just hair. The doorbell rang.
"Ike!"
"Hi Marth. Nice hair."
"Thanks." He blushed and stepped back to let Ike in. Ike passed him a misshapen bundle of tin foil.
"Some of my mum's homemade mince pies. She insisted when I told her you were home alone," Ike explained.
"Oh, wow. Thank you."
Ike smiled and took off his coat and shoes. Even though he only lived around twenty minutes' walk away his hair was already covered in a fine layer of snow. He shook it off as a dog might, and it fluttered down around him.
"So," he said. "What do you fancy doing?"
In the end they sat on the sofa with the TV in the background and talked and ate mince pies. Marth quickly forgot that he had ever been alone at all. And as a lull was reached and Marth went to fetch some drinks it occurred to him that yet again he was alone with Ike. He could tell him now. Why not? It wasn't going to get any easier if he left it until the Christmas part; that was just a deadline he'd set himself. He reached for the lemonade and poured out two glasses, his hands unsteady.
"Have you got any crisps?" Ike asked, appearing in the kitchen behind him.
"Yes, there's some in there." Marth pointed to the relevant cupboard.
"Great. I have a craving for something salty." He peered into the cupboard and rummaged around for a moment. "Hey, you have the ones shaped like teddies. Cute."
"Yeah…"
"Awesome. I love them."
Marth smiled. Say it. He won't judge you. He hadn't teased him about the teddy-shaped crisps, anyhow…
They returned to the lounge again and Ike wandered over to the window to watch the snow falling. It was already quite thick in the garden, and the sky looked like it had several more inches to give yet. Marth turned the television off and joined Ike by the window to watch the blizzard of swirling white outside.
"It's always better to watch from indoor, in the warm," Ike commented. "All we need now is some appropriately wintry music in the background."
"Like what?"
"I dunno." Ike turned and flicked on the radio as if for inspiration. There was nothing wintry or enchanting about the tune that played though – it was a standard Christmas jingle. Ike laughed. "I suppose that'll do." He began to dance in time to the music, taking Marth by the wrists and trying to persuade him to join in.
"I can't dance!" Marth protested.
"Come on – have you never been to a disco?"
"Well…"
"No one really dances at discos – just twist a bit and raise your hands."
Marth felt self-conscious and pulled away a little, unwilling. But Ike only danced closer and began to move his hands for him until Marth gave in and danced, growing more confident towards the end of the song. As the tune died Ike stopped and smiled.
"See, it wasn't that bad. I'm sure girls wouldn't say no if you asked them to dance."
I wouldn't ask a girl to dance. I'm gay. The sudden surge of adrenalin instantly restricted Marth's breathing. Tell him. Now. But he could already feel himself chickening out, even as his intentions banged angrily at the inside of his skull. He stayed quiet, forcing a smile.
"Thanks for coming over," he said quietly.
"That's okay." Ike smiled. On a sudden impulse, Marth hugged him. Ike hugged him back. It was slightly too close for a casual hug but it wouldn't have been a problem if it had been brief. But the moment stretched, neither of them letting go. Stretched on too long then, to be broken without awkwardness. They were pressed against each other warmly, chest to chest, knees touching. Marth didn't want to let go. But knowing he had to he loosened his hold marginally, waiting for Ike's response. Ike remained how he was. And as yet more seconds crawled by he felt Ike lower his head a little so that his cheek passed over Marth's until it was resting in the curve of his neck. And Marth fancied he felt, although he couldn't see, Ike's lips press gently against his skin, as if in a kiss. Was it possible? He felt a rush of heat and knew he couldn't maintain the hug, or else he would surely implode with this sudden passion. Was it possible that Ike liked him too?
Gently he pulled away, aware that every part of him Ike had touched noticed the absence. He struggled to control his feelings. He would give himself away. Gladly. But he mustn't, not now. The Christmas party, he would say it then. It would be fantastic. Ike liked him too!
"Sorry, excuse me a minute." It took effort to keep his voice even. A deep joy bubbled inside him; he had to leave the room before he exploded with it. He was blushing, he knew he was blushing. But did it matter? Ike liked him too!
He closed the lounge door quietly behind him and took a few steps away. Then unable to suppress his happiness any longer he jumped up and down and punched the air, grinning. Yes! YES!