Hey guys!
So….hah. This chapter ended up being waaaaaaay longer that I'd originally planned. Wow. And actually, I'd originally planned to post this one semi-close to the holidays. It went through a lot of rewrites, and I really wanted it to sort of be a tribute to one of my favorite RP episodes, A Rocket X-mas! So here it is, in March. Hahaha. Hope you guys don't mind too much!
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or settings from Rocket Power. I also don't own Pokémon, Pikachu, the surf/skate/clothing brand Hurley, the song 'Jingle Bell Rock', or the movies Home Alone, Christmas Vacation, A Christmas Story.
Sorry for any grammatical errors or typos!
Chapter Eight
-Twister's POV-
"And heading down 77th Street, here comes everyone's favorite Pokémon friend: Pikachu! He's two stories tall and always a crowd favorite at each year's parade. Listen to those cheers!"
Sitting back on the couch with my head leaned on my fist, I watched the Thanksgiving Day parade on television with glazed over eyes. It would be almost the only noise in the room, if it weren't for the sound of Mom making noise in the kitchen with her cooking and Lars, who was sitting three feet away on the couch with me and loudly cackling at videos on his phone.
If I didn't know any better, it would almost feel like any regular Thanksgiving. If it weren't for one thing—if my dad were even here. And if things weren't so crappy in general.
My dad was staying in a hotel for now, until he could find his own apartment. So he wasn't officially moved out yet. Some of his stuff was here, and occasionally he came by to get some things that he needed. But he wouldn't be here today. If anything, he'd just stop by for leftovers. Everything felt so wrong.
"Yo, pass the chips," my brother barked, still staring at his phone and reaching his hand blindly in my direction for the bag of cheese puffs. Mom had told him not to eat chips before dinner was ready, but he of course snuck them anyway. I handed the bag to him wordlessly.
This was the first Thanksgiving I'd ever had without my whole family there. Some years we would go to my Abuela's house, and all of my aunts and uncles and cousins would be there, and some years we would just stay at our house, just us four. This year, it didn't even feel like a holiday. Everything was wrong.
Even Lars almost hadn't come, he'd said it would be too uncomfortable and awkward with our parents' divorce going on. But I'd begged him and begged him over text messages to come, and eventually he'd grudgingly given in. It was probably the first time in my entire life that I actually needed my brother there with me. But it was either have Lars there to annoy me and distract me from how empty our house felt now, or have him not here and spend the holiday with just me and my mom, both of us awkward and sad and not really knowing what to say to each other.
The one thing about my brother that I could admit was useful was his ability to fill the room. When Lars went someplace, no matter where he went, he always could distract everyone from awkwardness or shyness and made them relax. Even if you were annoyed by him, or he made you angry, he could still grab your attention and hold it. It was partially his big ego, and partially his abrasive personality. In a weird way, it was what I needed right now. And I was glad he was there.
"Yo, Maurice! Look at this!" Lars shoved his phone's screen directly into my face. A video was playing of some guy trying to jump a whole car on his skateboard, smacking into the car, and then falling on his ass. "Look at this moron! What a jackass. Otto would totally try to do something like this! AHAHAHAHAHA!" He continued howling with laughter as he brought his phone back down in front of him as he watched it ten more times.
I blinked, stared at him, and then looked back at the TV. Well, I was mostly glad.
Besides, I was almost positive that if Lars weren't there, Mom wouldn't have bothered making most of the usual foods she makes on Thanksgiving: turkey, stuffing, roasted corn, homemade tamales, menudo, and pumpkin pie. I'd been having all that goodness every year of my life so far, and I was glad that for all of the different weirdness going on right now, I could at least have good familiar food that I was used to.
The other difference in my life at the moment was something I was trying so hard not to think about—which meant that I ended up thinking about it obsessively.
It had been a whole week since that night.
The night that Reggie had called me, and I came over, and we drank, and I told her I loved her.
An entire week.
This week had been the longest week in my recent memory. It had been a week full of sleepless nights, of being so nervous that everyone kept asking if I was all right, of trying not to pull my hair out of my head.
Reggie had asked for some time for her to give me a real answer and to sort some things out. And so now I was giving her that time.
I was trying my hardest to be patient. Really, I was. But it was so hard.
I couldn't really be around her. It wasn't that I was avoiding her because I was upset with her, because that wasn't it at all. It was just that every time I saw her, I could only see that night. The way she'd looked so vulnerable in her sweatpants and ponytail with tear streaks on her face, the way she'd gazed at me and held my hands and the way I'd held her face in my hands like I'd always wanted to. It kept replaying in my head on a permanent loop. And that made it so hard to be patient.
But I would be patient. I would. Even if it killed me, that was all she needed from me right now, so I would do it.
Part of me thought that maybe she was avoiding me too. Even at school, when the group all hung out together, she would stand the furthest from me and barely talked directly to me. But sometimes, when she thought I wasn't paying attention, I would feel her staring at me. One time I caught her, and it looked like she had a guilty glint in her eyes before she looked away.
Trent really hurt her. She just needed time. I just needed to give her time. More time than this.
Otto and Ray had even invited me over to the Rocket house for Thanksgiving dinner, since everyone knew about my parents' situation now, but I couldn't accept the invitation. Giving Reggie time meant giving her some space too, and the last thing I needed to do right now was sit right across the dinner table from her.
So I stayed here. On the couch. With Lars. And the parade.
I watched, dazed, as some country band was playing on a float with costumed mascots standing and waving next to them, singing some song I'd never heard.
Lars, for the first time, set down his phone and squinted at the band on the TV screen for a couple of moments. "This sucks," he said, scoffing, and then went back to his phone. I laughed.
Two hours later, Mom was finished with the food and all three of us sat down to eat. Lars and I eagerly stuffed ourselves as our mom looked on with a grin and ate much slower. We all talked and kept talking to fill the silence, to fill up the empty fourth chair. And then we all collapsed onto the couch with round, full guts and watched a movie that Lars had picked out. Some trashy college comedy movie. Mom didn't like it, but she watched it with us anyway.
Hours after that, my dad came by to pick up some leftovers, since he couldn't really cook and probably wouldn't have gotten any food otherwise. It was as awkward as it sounds, possibly more. As Lars and I sat there, watching their jilted, forced conversation, we exchanged a look, knowing Mom was probably restraining herself from screaming at him for our sake. Which was nice, I guess. And then he left.
Thanksgiving came and went like a stranger.
Lars stayed for another day, and then he left two days after the holiday, wanting to take advantage of his last two days of Thanksgiving break. And without his giant ego to fill up the space, our house became quiet and cold again.
I went back to spending more time at Sam's house than I even spent at my own, and neither Sam nor his mom seemed to mind. He even welcomed me warmly every time I came over, like the good friend he was. I hoped I wasn't hurting my mom by staying away so much, but she had started burying herself in her job again anyway. And some days the sadness became too much for me to bear.
I helped around the house as Sam's mom started putting up Christmas decorations before November was even over, like she did yearly. And before I knew it, December started with a whisper.
-Otto's POV-
I stared out the window as the scenery flashing by changed from flat land to hills, then eventually to mountains, just as the sun started to set. X-mas music came from the speakers and into the quiet car. Almost everyone was asleep—Sam, Tito, Twister and Reggie. Dad was driving, and I was stuck awake with my loud thoughts and Tito's loud snoring.
It had been ages since all of us had last piled into the Woodie and took a trip to the ski resort, and we'd all decided to take a weeklong trip over the holidays. I couldn't ever remember the last time I'd seen snow during Christmas. It'd been years at least, and I couldn't wait to shred down the mountain and leave all my worries behind.
It was enough that Clio wasn't there with us like we'd planned—we were kinda having a fight at the moment. It was one of those stupid fights where two people get a little sick of each other and pick at each other for no reason. We decided we needed a little time apart. Not a break up, not even a break. Just time apart. Clio decided she wanted to spend time with her family over the holiday—Twister's mom and Lars were both staying with her and her mom and dad at their house. We thought maybe some time apart was all we needed.
Next to me, my sister shifted in her sleep, her elbow jabbing into my side. I glanced over at her, watching her for a moment before looking away.
In addition to worrying about my relationship, there was the matter of Reggie. And Twister. And whatever had been going on between them.
Ever since about a month ago when Twister had been alone at our house with Reggie, they'd been really weird around each other. I hadn't asked either of them about it, especially since Reggie was feeling rough since that blowout she'd had with Trent. I didn't want to bother her when she looked so sad. But part of me had the feeling that Twister might have told her how he felt about her. I wasn't sure, but the way Twister had looked the past week told me that he might have. Poor dude looked terrified. It reminded me of that time when we were kids when he read that comic book Squid lent him and he thought that there was going to be an alien invasion.
But I didn't want to bother him about it either—the situation with his parents had put him on edge lately, too. I still couldn't believe they were splitting. As long as I'd known Twister, they'd always looked so happy together. Since I barely remembered my mom, and I didn't remember her and my dad together, Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez were practically the only example I'd had in front of me of two people married together for a long time—besides our old neighbors, Violet and Merv, before they moved. But Twister's dad had cheated on his mom. I guess sometimes you don't really know people, even when you think you do.
There was just all sorts of weirdness going on right now with everyone. It made my stomach feel like it was tied in a knot. It was like the coolest season had turned everyone cold.
Sometimes winter could be cruel.
With all of these things on my mind, I just wanted to get out there and board down the mountain over and over until my brain was numb and I couldn't feel my face or my fingers.
It was dark outside now. I glanced up at the front seat and looked at my dad, his face straight with concentration as he drove. "Dad?" I spoke in a soft voice so that I wouldn't wake everybody. "When will we get to our cabin?"
He looked at me through the rearview mirror, and I saw him smile at me gently. "About 35 minutes," he said in a hushed voice. "Go to sleep, Otto. I'll wake you guys when we get there."
Sighing, I turned away, leaned my head back, and soon I drifted off.
Before I knew it, I was waking up again, and everyone was wide awake and rushing to get all of our luggage out of the car and into the cabin. I jumped out of the car and into the land of snow and ice. Snow crunched under my shoes.
The air was amazingly cold—so freezing that it hurt my lungs to breathe it in. Cursing myself for not having the foresight to put on my coat before I got out of the car, I rushed to get my bags out of the trunk and hurried into the dark, cold, mid-size cabin to set them down. My bare arms stung from the coldness. Why hadn't I worn a long sleeved shirt?
I threw my bags onto the hardwood floor, and it echoed loudly. I could barely see around me, and it was hard to tell what else was in the room. "Dude, it's so cold," I complained loudly to no one in particular, since no one else was inside.
"Yeah," my sister bit from behind me, walking through the front door and setting her bags down next to mine. She at least had a hoodie on. "We know."
I shivered hard, my teeth clenching together. I folded my arms. "I…forgot how cold…it is up here."
Reggie upraised my bare arms and then smirked at me, the first sort of smile she'd had on her face all day. "Why'd you wear short sleeves?"
I groaned, rolling my eyes. "I don't KNOW."
She laughed at me. "Dumbass." At that moment, Twister came in through the front door behind us. She turned around to look at him and her smile faded, falling silent and looking away. She almost looked…I don't know, nervous? Weird. Super weird.
"Hey, Twist. Where's my dad?" I asked to distract from the weird, awkward fog that had suddenly filled the air.
Twister put his giant suitcase on the floor and stood up straight, rubbing his gloved hands together. He'd noticed Reggie's weird reaction too, but he acted like he didn't. I could tell it had bothered him, though. "Him and Tito are coming," he said.
Sam walked in next, waddling in his heavy coat and thick pants through the door with a backpack and two heavy duffle bags dragging on the floor. They trailed in some snow behind them. He dropped them all in a huff, pausing to bend over and catch his breath. Then he stood up, taking a breath to say something, then stopped and looked at me, puzzled. "Why aren't you wearing a coat?"
I groaned loudly again. "I DON'T KNOW." Reggie and Twister snickered at me as Sam bit his lip and tried not to laugh.
"You could get pneumonia, you know." He pointed out.
I sighed, throwing my arms up, and then immediately folding them again for warmth. "Well, excuse me for not knowing our cabin would be like a freezer."
As if on cue, the door opened again, and my dad and Tito came through it, both lugging along their bags and the rest of the stuff we packed for the trip. "Hey gang, sorry!" Dad said. "We had to go to the main office to get the power and heating turned on. We forgot to call ahead of time." He set some bags in one hand down and went over to the nearest light switch, flipping it.
All the lights in the room came on to reveal that we were standing in a cozy-looking living room with plaid furniture, wooden walls and a large fire place with a flat screen TV above it. I had to admit, it was a nice place. We all applauded in approval.
"Nice find, Raymundo. Great digs," said Tito.
Miserably, I cut in before my dad could answer, "Can we turn on the heating now?"
My dad and Tito glanced over at me. Dad gasped while Tito let out a hoot of laughter. "Otto, are you crazy?" He said, looking at me like I was indeed crazy. "Do you know how cold it is right now? Where's your coat?"
I started jumping up and down in place to try and warm up. "I don't know where I packed it," I whined.
Sighing, my dad came over to me, unzipped his puffy coat, took it off and put it around my shoulders. I quickly put my arms through it and zipped it up greedily. Ahh. Sweet warmth. "I'll go find the thermostat," he said. "All you guys go figure out who gets which room, they're upstairs."
At first everyone froze, and then everyone except for Dad stampeded up the narrow stairs in a rush to find and secure the best room.
There were 4 rooms: a master suite with two queen size beds, which Tito claimed for himself and my Dad immediately, and then 3 regular sized rooms with two beds each. Twist and I claimed the room with just a sliding glass door that lead to the outdoor balcony—it had thick drapes over it; which made it optimal for sleeping in late without too much light coming in. Reg got the room with a window and the other sliding glass door to the balcony—she always got up early anyway and she liked the view and all that junk. Sam got the last room: only one window, but it had the most electrical outlets where he could charge his phone and laptop and whatever else he brought with him.
It was a great cabin, except there was one thing missing.
"Decorations," I said suddenly when we all gathered in the living room, as my dad was quickly making sandwiches for everyone in the small kitchen. It had suddenly dawned on me. "There's no X-mas decorations in here."
"That's right," Sam said, looking around and rubbing his chin where some five o'clock shadow was starting to grow. That happened to him sometimes, and he had to shave a lot. It made me jealous—once it took me a whole two weeks just to grow a soul patch. Clio had been unimpressed with it, anyway. "We have the snow but no decorations—no lights, no tree, no anything."
Tito sat back on the plaid loveseat, folding his arms and frowning. "Now, that won't do, will it?"
"Um," Reggie spoke up, slightly raising her hand. "I uh…brought some stuff."
Twister sat up straight suddenly, staring at her. "What stuff?"
She looked at him quickly and then looked away, embarrassed. Man, what was that about? "I had a feeling there wouldn't be any decorations here, so I decided to bring some of ours…you know, just in case." She got up from the reclining chair next to the coffee table, walked over to some of the remaining bags sitting over by the door, and picked up a large green, bulky duffle bag that I hadn't recognized. She unzipped it reached inside, pulling something out—a long string of colored lights with big bulbs. A unanimous noise of approval echoed in the room.
"Reg, you're a genius!" I said. I jogged over to her, fist bumped her, and looked inside of the duffle bag. There were more lights, a ton of garland to hang and wrap around things, two wreaths, and two clear containers of ornaments. I took out the boxes, examining them. "Where will we get a tree, though?"
"They have a tree lot downtown," Dad said, coming to look at us with a smile on his face. "We can go buy one tomorrow."
Excited for our plans for tomorrow, everyone ate sandwiches as a late dinner and then retired to our individual rooms, calling it a night. Before I went to sleep, though, I checked my cell. No messages from Clio. I stared at my phone in annoyance.
Before I could wimp out, I typed a quick text, saying simply 'I miss you', and sent it, stuffing my phone under my pillow afterwards and squeezing my eyes shut.
-Sam's POV-
I woke up to the sound of arguing.
"Reggie, you could have asked me before we got here. Why are you springing this on me out of the blue? I only brought enough food for six people."
"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't ask because I thought you would say no. And besides, I…sort of invited her on impulse."
"Reg."
"Well, Dad, she's already on her way up here. What am I supposed to say when she gets here? 'Oh, sorry Trish, you came all the way up here for nothing, go home'? We can't just send her back!"
I shot up in bed, throwing the covers off and sprinting to the door to my room and throwing it open, surprising Reggie and Ray, who were standing directly on the other side of it. "Trish? Huh? What?" I went to adjust my glasses and then realized that they weren't there. I blinked hard and stared at them—or in their direction; both of them were just blobs of color.
"I invited Trish to stay with us on the trip. She's been busy lately, and she needs a break." Blob Reggie said, and I could hear the wariness in her voice. "Sorry we woke you up, Sammy. Where are your glasses?"
"Oh, you know," I gestured flippantly over my shoulder in the direction of the bedside table where I left them. I cleared my throat, trying to sound less obviously nervous. "So, she's coming then?"
"Yeah, she is," Blob Reggie turned her formless face towards Blob Ray. Her voice turned steely. "And she's staying here with us."
Blob Ray sighed. "Yes, yes, okay. Fine. She can stay until New Years. But I don't know if there will be enough room for her in the Woodie on the way back."
Blob Reggie squealed and hugged him, making them turn into one big indiscernible blob. I blinked hard and then squinted. It didn't help, as usual. "Thanks, Dad. Thank you so much! She should be here by this afternoon." She turned to me, at least it seemed like she did. "Sam, go put on your glasses before you run into something."
I nodded, dazed, turning to go back into my room to get them, and then smacked straight into the door jamb face first. Reggie gasped and I groaned, rubbing my sore nose. "Ow," I whined. For a moment I thought I heard Ray chuckling. Reggie put her hands on my shoulders, guiding me into my room and to my bedside table, handing my glasses to me. I put them on, the world coming into sharp focus again. I sighed in relief. "Thanks."
She smiled. "No problem," she said. Then she gave me a guilty look, her mouth forming a tight line. "So…is this okay?"
I sat on the edge of my bed, feigning cluelessness. "Is what okay?"
"You know," she looked down at me meaningfully. "Trish. Will you…be okay?" She sighed. "I probably should have asked you before I invited her."
I shook my head, and then shrugged. My stomach was already tying itself into a giant knot. "Yeah," I lied, shrugging again. "I'll be fine." Trish was coming. Trish was staying with us. In a cabin. The same cabin as me. For a week. An entire week. During Christmas. Oh my God. Holy Mother of God. I was gonna die.
She put a hand on my shoulder. "Promise?" She grinned at me slightly. "Don't freak out, okay?"
I tried to smile. "Okay." I lied again.
I was GONNA DIE.
#
After eating a late breakfast, all of us bundled up and packed into Raymundo's Woodie to head downtown for a tree. It was only two days until Christmas now, and we'd be lucky to be able to find a good one on such short notice.
It was a short drive, but fresh fluffy powder snow was beginning to fall from the sky, so Raymundo was extra careful. Otto and Twister sat together, watching snowboarding videos on Otto's phone, and Reggie and I sat together in the very back. Christmas music played on the radio, and we pulled up to the tree lot to the sound of 'Jingle Bell Rock'. As I got out of the car and stepped into the cold, I adjusted my knit hat over my ears, my breath billowing out in front of me like clouds.
I smiled in satisfaction. This felt like Christmas. It reminded me so much of Christmases in Kansas. I didn't mind Christmases in Ocean Shores, with its warm weather and sandy beaches. But there was truly nothing like being surrounded by snow and ice this time of year.
As we ventured out into the lot, we decided to split up into pairs so that we could find a tree faster. Reggie and I crossed to the far side, Ray and Tito went to talk to the owner, and Otto and Twist stayed near the entrance, Otto loudly complaining once again about being cold while Twister filmed him on his camcorder and gave him grief. At least he'd worn his coat today.
"Let's find a really full one," Reggie was saying to me over her shoulder, pulling her dark purple, thick scarf away from her face. It was almost the same color as her hair, which was tucked underneath her hat in two braids. "It can't be some scrawny pathetic thing. It's gotta be beastly."
I nodded. "Agreed," I said. "And not too tall either, I think."
She turned around, pointing at me and nodding. "Exactly!" She turned back around, squinting at the trees we passed with a discerning eye. "It has to be perfect."
I glanced sideways at her, smiling. "I remember a time when you weren't so excited about holiday traditions. Remember that X-mas when you and Otto started up that dog walking business to get Ray that longboard?"
She half groaned, half laughed. "Ugh, don't remind me. That was a mess." She shook her head in embarrassment as I laughed at the fond memory. Stopping at another tree and closely examining it, she continued in a more serious tone, "That year made me remember how much my mom had loved Christmas and spending time with us during this time of year. Remembering that made me love Christmas more, too." She looked back at me and offered a shy, if not slightly sad, smile.
I smiled back in sympathy. "I get it. I think that's awesome, Reg." I paused, raising my eyebrows, trying to keep my face looking as serious as possible as I said, "So, does that mean that we have to watch Pinkie Pixie's Christmas Flapadoozy?"
Reggie burst out laughing, her sadness melting away as she shoved my shoulder good-naturedly. "You bet your ass we're watching it."
I held my hands up defensively, laughing too. "All right, all right."
"So, hey," she said as she moved to examine another nearby tree, turning it slightly, seeing a giant bald spot on it and moving away from it immediately. "What's your mom doing over Christmas? She's not by herself, is she?"
Grimacing at a tree with no needles left on it, I shook my head. "No, she flew to Kansas to stay with our extended family there. She's spending the holiday with them. We had our Christmas early, and I opened all of my presents then. This is one of them," I said, patting my knitted hat. "She made it for me for the trip."
"Aww." She reached over to flick the giant yarn pom pom on the top of my hat with her gloved hand. "Your mom's the sweetest. I'm glad she'll have a nice holiday with your family." She stopped suddenly, gasping, and then she ran over to a tree about 15 feet away. She called to me, "Sammy, come look at this!"
I followed her as quickly as I could without slipping and falling face-and-glasses-first into the snow, and I came to a stop next to her in front of a seven and a half-foot beauty. It was full, but not too wide, and the perfect height. "Are there bald spots?"
"I don't know. Help me check?"
We maneuvered around the tree gingerly, careful not to bump into and knock into the other nearby ones, looking up and down and even shaking it to make sure it was sturdy. It was, in fact, the perfect tree.
I went to go find Raymundo and Tito, then I brought them back to the tree where Reggie was waiting next to it with a big smile on her face. When I looked up at Ray, I saw the same exact expression on his face. "Reggie, this is perfect!" He exclaimed, walking over to her and scooping her up into a big bear hug. "That's my girl!"
They broke from their hug and Reggie got up on her tip toes and reached up to straighten his Rudolph hat, complete with antlers and a red nose. "So we're getting it?"
"You bet we are," said Ray, then he nudged Tito with his elbow. "She's a beauty, isn't she Tito?"
Tito seemed to be turning into a Tito-cicle, shivering with his arms folded, even with his giant coat on, mittens, and a scarf covering most of his face. His teeth were chattering. "T-that she is, brudda." Tito agreed, his voice muffled by his scarf. "C-can we g-go back to th-the cabin now?"
Ray stifled a laugh with his hand, looking at his best friend with sympathy. "Of course. Reg, Sam, you take Tito back to the car and turn the heat on to get him warmed up. I'll pay for the tree and ask the owner to help me mount the tree to roof of the car."
Reggie and I stood on either side of Tito, leading him back to the car, and when we got back to it, we noticed that the engine was running and the windows were fogged up. Opening the passenger door, we were surprised to see Otto and Twister greet us, sitting in the middle seats comfortably.
"Well, hi. What happened to looking for a tree?" Reggie asked dryly. Tito immediately got into the car, sat down in the passenger seat, and held his mitten clad hands up in front of the vents.
Twister answered her tiredly, "We started looking, and then Rocket Man got too cold again, so I brought him back here and turned the heat on."
Reggie, suddenly getting peculiarly shy, didn't respond, just shut the passenger door and then silently opened the back so we could get in. One of my eyebrows rose. She and Twister had been acting strangely around each other for weeks now, but I wouldn't ask. It wasn't my business.
As we got in the back, I answered Twister for her. "Well, you guys don't have to worry. Reggie found us the perfect tree. No thanks to you guys. Especially you, Otto."
Otto looked at me over the back of his seat and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Good job, Reg."
Clearing her throat, Reggie answered this time, seemingly gaining her composure and dry tone back. "How are you gonna go snowboarding later this week when you retreat from the cold air after so much as standing outside? When did you get so sensitive, little bro?"
This had Twister and I cackling, and Otto glared at all of us, folding his arms and flopping back into his seat. "Shut up, Reg. I just have to get used to it again. Soon I'll be shredding down that mountain no problem."
Soon, Ray and the owner of the lot came and tied the tree to the top of the car, and we were driving back to the cabin. When we made it back, it took all six of us to carry it inside and hoist it into the Christmas tree holder Reggie had brilliantly thought to bring along with the decorations. We arranged it to fit in the perfect corner—plenty far away from the fireplace, right next to a window, close enough to an outlet to plug lights in, with plenty of space to fit presents underneath it.
With that taken care of, we began the decorating. Reggie, Otto, and Ray began making the red and green paper chains they liked to make every year, and Twister and I began stringing garland around windows and doorways and over the top of the fireplace, right under the space the flat screen TV sat—and I tried my best not to fall off the chairs we stood on to reach high enough. Tito sat back on the couch with a mug of hot cocoa, playing us some Christmas songs on his ukulele.
Finishing up our individual decorating projects as the sun began to go down, we lit a fire in the fireplace and were just about to start on decorating the tree when there was a knock on the cabin door.
Reggie leapt up from the spot on the couch she'd been sitting. "I'll get it!" She called out as she ran to the door excitedly. Something about her eagerness for who was on the other side of the door told me to take deep breaths and try not to pass out. She reached the door and unlocked it.
'Don't freak out,' I thought to myself, fighting the urge to put my head between my knees as my heart rate increased and my head began to swim. 'Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't freak out.'
The door swung open. "Trish!" Reggie screamed. She squealed the way some girls do when they greet their friends and behind it I heard low chuckling. It was Trish's laughter.
"Hey, Rocket Girl!" Trish greeted. My stomach immediately seized into a giant knot and I made a low, involuntary whine at the back of my throat. Twister, who was next to me on the loveseat, patted my back.
Risking a look over at the door, I saw Reggie linking arms with Trish and leading her inside the cabin, carrying one of her suitcases as Trish carried the other one. Trish had on a light blue, puffy coat and matching mint green scarf and hat, her black hair sticking out from underneath in one long braid. Snow dusted the top of her head, and her nose was bright red. Adorable. Adorable in every single way. I was done for.
"You're just in time. We were just about to decorate the tree!" Reggie continued, leading her into the living room where the rest of us were. "Did you find the cabin okay? I told Dad to give you clear directions."
Trish smiled, loosening up her scarf. Even though it was freezing cold outside and the air was dry, her lips weren't even chapped. They were pink and smooth and plump looking as always. I gulped. She said, "The directions were perfect, my cousin and I found the place with no problems. Thanks, Mr. Rocket."
Ray shrugged and waved her off, abashed. "No problem at all, kiddo. Glad you got here safely." He got up from his seat next to Tito. "You look cold. Let me get you some hot cocoa, I just made a fresh batch."
"That sounds great," said Trish as he ambled off to the kitchen.
"So Trish, the gang's all here. Otto, Sammy, Tito, and," Reg paused for an awkward and loaded moment that I think everyone noticed, "and Twist."
"Hey, Trish. Glad you could make it," Twister said cheerfully, greeting her with a wave. His face looked kind of red. Reggie shifted on her feet and looked at the ground. If I weren't so nervous at that moment, I would've snorted. Whatever was going on between those two, they weren't being subtle about it at all.
"Good to see you!" piped in Tito with a big smile.
"Yo," Otto said to Trish, waving and then looking back down at his phone's screen immediately, most likely waiting for Clio to text him once again.
"Hey Twist, hey Tito. 'Sup Ottoman," Trish greeted them back cheerfully, and something like dread rose in my stomach. Then her eyes locked directly on me for the first time. Her smile turned shy. "Hi, Sam."
My brain went blank for a moment, as it always did whenever she talked to me. Damn brain, betraying me when I needed it the most. "Um." 'Be normal. Be normal. Say something back. Say something back,' my thoughts roared at me. I clasped my hands together tightly to keep from fidgeting. "Hi Trish."
Thankfully, Ray came back into the room not even a second later. "Here you go! Careful, the mug is hot," he said, holding out a black mug of cocoa to Trish. She took it gratefully, warming her hands on the mug. "Now gang, let's get to decorating this gorgeous tree!" He reached up to his Rudolph hat, pushing a button on it, and the red nose began flashing a bright red. We all laughed, and any awkwardness or unease melted away as soon as everyone got to work.
Reggie focused on helping Raymundo wrap their extra long paper chain around the tree, and then the lights, Twister recorded all of us on his camcorder, occasionally handing me and Tito ornaments to hang, and Otto and Trish worked on the perfect tinsel placement—well, okay, only Trish was doing that. Otto was basically throwing entire chunks of tinsel on the tree at once because he was impatient and he thought it looked cool, and Trish was fixing his mess ups.
And an hour later, the tree was finished, with only one or two ornament casualties—Trish had said something to me when I hadn't seen her standing there, and I jumped and dropped the bulb I'd been holding onto the wood floor. I'd scrambled to clean it up afterwards, managing to cut my hand in my haste. It wasn't too bad of a cut, but I still had to put a bandage on it. So far, that was two times I'd humiliated myself in front of Trish since she'd arrived.
Dang nerves. Dang spending a trip in a cabin with the most wonderful girl in the world whom I really, really liked. Possibly even loved—maybe I'd know for sure how I felt about her if I weren't so damn rational about everything. And during the holidays of all times. At this rate I'd probably accidentally trip over my own feet and send myself careening into the fireplace.
I managed to get through the rest of the night without being scathed any further, and as I lay in my bed that night afterwards and looked at the sky outside—it was a peaceful, glowing grey, the way it only looks when it snows—I wondered how Trish, the queen of the ocean herself, could look so exquisite in the cold. It was like she really was a force of nature, blending in with every condition and season with ease, with grace and beauty.
After some time, I fell asleep, dreaming of a calm snow queen with long black hair and dark, mysterious eyes.
-Back to Twister's POV-
On Christmas Eve, I woke up with an ache in my stomach.
No, not the one that meant I was hungry. That was normal for me in the morning. This was…different. And as usual, she was the first thing I thought of when I woke up.
The older I got, the more different I felt during X-mas. Over the years, the less it was about toys and presents, and the more it was about other things. I missed how it felt to go to sleep on Christmas Eve and wake up in the morning, crazed with excitement and happiness.
It wasn't that I didn't like the holidays anymore, because of course I did. It still made me happy. But the older I got, the more I became nostalgic and sentimental around this time of year. Not just for those old Christmases, but for everything going on in my life. It was like all of my emotions were amplified. During this time of year now, everything that usually made me happy made me happier, and everything that usually made me sad made me even sadder.
As recently as last year, being around my family during this time had made me happy, and this year, my mom and Lars were with extended family, and I didn't even know what my dad's holiday plans were. We were all separated, and everything was different. I tried very hard to not think about it, because every time I did, despair rose up inside of me. It made me feel empty, and I didn't want to feel that way. It was Christmas. I was supposed to be happy.
And along with that, every Christmas in the past that I had loved Reggie without her knowing, the particular feeling of love and warmth in the air during the holidays always made me want her even more. The sight of couples bundled up together on the street, romantic Christmas songs playing everywhere I went, seeing mistletoe above every doorway—it made all of my feelings for her swell up and overwhelm me to the point where it made me physically ache.
And this year that was there again, except worse. Way worse. In addition to how things between us had been awkward and uneasy for the past month, knowing that my frantic, emotional, wordy confession was still hanging in the air between us every time we looked at each other—the ache had absolutely consumed me.
After the semester at school ended and Winter Break started, I found myself avoiding Otto and Reggie's house like I had during Thanksgiving break. Of course it didn't help that Otto and my cousin were having some kind of spat at the moment—I'd gotten tired of Otto asking me what she was doing, how she was doing, if she had asked about him, and so on and so on. But there had been such tension between Reg and I that I decided that giving her more space for a while was a good idea.
But since coming on this trip, things still hadn't gotten much better. Every time Reggie looked at me, she seemed…uneasy and tense. She was barely even speaking to me now. Was coming on the trip a mistake? Had I scared her away for good?
By this point, I had begun to regret telling her. Maybe I had screwed things up between us forever. The easy close friendship that we'd had before was possibly gone forever, and it was all my fault. Why did I have to drink that beer and open my big fat mouth? Things could've still been the same. It was already enough that I lost my old life at home for good, now I felt like I had lost Reggie too.
Refusing to let the sadness swallow me up, I sighed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Rolling over on the bed and sitting up, I glanced back at the clock on the small table between my bed and Otto's bed. 11:08 AM. Still pretty early, by Winter Break standards. But by now, I was wide awake, and from the sound of things, everyone else was up, too. I looked over at Otto, who was still sound asleep and snoring loudly.
Grabbing one of my pillows, I threw it hard, and it walloped him on the side of the face, abruptly stopping his snoring. He shot straight up, his brown eyes wide and his dreadlocks flying around his face. "HUH? WHAT?" He shouted. There was drool running down his chin. Gross.
I smirked at him. "Merry Christmas Eve, Oswald."
Otto looked at me blankly in a half-asleep daze, processing what had just happened, then snatched up my pillow and threw it back at me, and it hit me square in the face. "Merry Christmas Eve, asshole."
After finishing our pillow war, we took turns in the bathroom and then trudged downstairs where everyone else was already gathered, eating Raymundo's famous monster pumpkin pancakes with cinnamon whipped cream. We all exchanged greetings and then helped ourselves to some of the giant pancakes, scarfing them down in record time.
When all of us were done eating, the day sped forward, leading from one event to the next. First, we all put on our coats and snow gear and headed outside to divide into teams for a snowball version of dodgeball.
We found a large open space and then drew a long line down the middle of the snow with a tree branch. Tito hung by the sidelines as referee so that the teams would be even, and it was me, Otto and Sam versus Trish, Reggie and Ray. It was tough competition, and the first game was intense. If it weren't for Sam constantly avoiding throwing at and even looking at Trish, even when she was right in front of him, we could've won easy, but they won over us in the end.
Couldn't say I blamed him, though. During the game I'd been avoiding looking at Reggie as well—that is, until her snowball sailed through the air and hit me on the cheek. I'd looked over at her, bewildered, and she just looked at me evenly, lifted her eyebrows and then turned away with the slightest smirk on her lips.
It was the first non-awkward contact we'd had the whole trip, and it made me strangely happy even though I had snow dripping off of my face. And it was the first glimpse of pre-Trent Reggie that I'd seen in a long while.
Also, it was the hottest thing ever.
After we played one more game and all of our hands were numb, we went back inside the cabin to warm up, each of us having either hot cocoa or coffee. Then Raymundo brought out the gingerbread house making supplies, and we got to work on that.
It was way more difficult to make then I had remembered, and Otto and Reggie, having done this every year with their Dad since they were little, barked orders at the rest of us as we all tried to keep up. We also had gingerbread men cookies to decorate, and I'd successfully eaten four of them before getting caught by Ray and he banished me to baking duty in the kitchen with Tito.
I'd only accidentally burned one batch of cookies, which Tito nagged at me for, but other than that, I think I did a pretty good job helping. Every once in a while I peeked out the kitchen doorway to see how the house was going—and to sneak glances at Reggie—and once, I caught Sam putting frosting on the tip of his nose and sticking a gumdrop on it, turning to Trish and making a funny face. She giggled and snapped a picture of him on her phone. I shook my head, smiling to myself as I went back to the kitchen.
When the house was finished being made and decorated—it was tight as hell, by the way—it was already dinner time. We had our laid back dinner of burgers, and afterwards we sat down with popcorn in front of the TV for a holiday movie marathon.
Starting our marathon with Christmas Vacation, because duh, we then watched some more of the classics, like Home Alone and A Christmas Story. And then, because this was also a Rocket family holiday gathering and it was another one of their traditions, we all watched Pinkie Pixie's Christmas Flapadoozy. Then Ray, Otto and Reg—after some coaxing from their dad—stood up and sang the 'Kringle Dingle Song' for us and performed the Antler Dance. After they were done, the rest of us gave them a standing ovation, laughing and whistling as Reggie covered her face in embarrassment and Otto bowed in an over exaggerated way.
By the time all of this was over, it was late, we were tired and loopy, and our busy Christmas Eve was over. So we all said our goodnights and went up to bed, looking forward to the next day.
#
Before I knew it, Otto was jumping onto my bed and shaking me awake. "Twist, get up! It's Christmas! Come on! Get up! We gotta open presents!"
I squinted at him. The curtains had been opened, and the cool Christmas morning light was flooding into our room. The light felt piercing, but I forced myself to sit up, shoving Otto off of my bed. "Okay, okay, I'm up. Geez. How old are you, 12?"
Otto sprung back up on my bed and began hitting me with my own pillow. "Yes. Get up. Presents."
I threw back my sheets, rushing out of bed now. "I'm getting up!" I stood up, my head still swirling with sleep, then kneeled by my bed, taking my suitcase out from underneath it. "You go ahead without me, I have to get something."
Without even hesitating, my best friend said, "Kay bye!" and fled the room, pausing to fling open the door to Reggie and Trish's room next door to shout, "WAKE UP!"
I tiptoed over to the door to our room, closing it again, and then jogged back over to my suitcase, dropping to my knees next to it. Taking out one of the many hoodies I brought on the trip—a red one with white drawstrings, pretty damn festive if I do say so myself—I pulled it over my head and then sprayed myself with body spray, knowing I'd probably end up showering much later today. Then reaching even further into my suitcase, I pulled out three wrapped gifts and two envelopes. A gift for Otto, one for Sam, a gift card for Tito and one for Raymundo, since I never knew how to shop for adults. And lastly, a gift for Reggie—one that I spent forever angsting over because nothing seemed good enough to buy—before I finally decided to make one for her myself. The thought of giving it to her made my heart race; made me so nervous that I almost lost my appetite. Almost.
I'd forgotten to put them under the tree, so I decided to bring them down with me. When I ambled downstairs with my arms full of gifts, everyone else had just settled down in the living room—except for Otto, who was practically bouncing off the walls still. After Tito and Ray came over to me, greeting me with bear hugs, and receiving 'Merry Christmas'es from almost everyone else in the room, we started exchanging presents.
Otto of course snatched all of his presents from everyone eagerly and started ripping them open with shouts and hoots of excitement. Squid and I handed each other our presents and then first bumped, and I gave Raymundo and Tito their giftcards before they gave me a noogie and messed up my hair, which made me pull up the hood on my sweatshirt to hide it.
Then, taking a deep breath, I turned to face where Reggie sat on the ground next to Trish, and she was already staring at me. She was in light purple, warm-looking pajamas with a rocket pattern on them with her curly hair coming out of a messy bun on the top of her head. I tried not to look at her for too long, so I wouldn't make her uncomfortable, but it was hard not to when she looked so damn cute. She held out the gift she held, and with fumbling hands, I handed her gift to her anxiously. "You didn't have to get me anything," I said, my voice a little breathless, staring at down at it in my hands.
She shrugged, waving me off. "It's no big deal, I wanted to." She smiled at me. Her smile was shy and gentle. "Merry Christmas, Twister."
My face was hot once again, and the embarrassment of my face being red made me flush even more. It was like that was all I knew how to do around her these days. "Merry Christmas, Reg." I nodded at the gift in my hands, holding it up. "Should I open it now?"
She blinked at me and then nodded, her smile growing. "Yeah, sure, if you want."
I ripped into the wrapping paper immediately—a metallic purple color—and as the paper fell away, a framed picture was revealed. It was a picture of the two of us, in a black, glossy frame. The picture had to have been years old—I recognized the shirt I was wearing in it as my favorite shirt back in the eighth grade: big and baggy with a giant blue Hurley logo on it. The crazy thing was that I remembered when she'd taken this picture.
I'd been sitting on the side of the boardwalk, eating an ice cream cone and minding my own business, and Reggie had ambushed me, putting her arm around my neck, stretching her arm up with her camera, smacking a kiss on my cheek and snapping a picture before I could react. She, Sherry and Trish had run away, giggling, and I'd sat there frozen, my mouth wide open and ice cream dripping down my arm.
I stared down at the picture in the frame now, my face still red and my heart pounding from the memory. I stared at her lips pressed against my cheek. I'd never quite understood what happened that day, and why she'd taken that picture in the first place. And now, remembering the words that she'd said to me that night a month ago, I finally understood why. 'I liked you a few times, actually. And if you had asked me out, I wouldn't have said no.' I swallowed hard, looking back up at her finally.
Reggie looked nervous. She was staring at me cautiously, her brows furrowed. "Do you like it?" She looked like she was anticipating me to say that I didn't like it.
My heart panged painfully. "I love it." 'I love you,' my mind screamed. "I really do. Thank you so much." A few moments passed with us gazing at each other and fidgeting, and then I cleared my throat, pointing at my present in her hands. "I hope you like mine, too. I worked really hard on it."
At the mention of my gift, she immediately ripped open the plain red wrapping paper and took out what was inside. "A DVD?"
"Yeah." I felt so lame. Her gift was a trillion times better than mine. I glanced over at Trish nervously, suddenly just realizing that she'd been watching us this whole time, and she smirked at me openly. The burn in my face increased as I turned back to Reggie. "Um. Make sure that when you watch it, you're alone, okay?" I looked at Trish again quickly. "No offense, Trish."
She half-shrugged, shaking her head, but still smirking at me. "No worries. I get it." She chuckled, amused, and then stood up, smoothing her hands down her dark blue pajama bottoms. "I'm getting more cocoa. You want some, Rocket Girl?"
Reggie eagerly jumped up too. "I'll go with you!" She paused, looking back at me and clutching the plastic DVD case to her chest with both hands, in a way that looked like she was hugging it. "Thanks Twist. I'll watch it as soon as I can." She gave me another shy smile and then turned to follow Trish into the kitchen, her friend nudging her with her elbow in a teasing way that made me 1000% sure that they were going to talk about me as soon as they were out of earshot. I sighed.
Another sigh came from right next to me, and I jumped, not realizing that anyone was sitting there. Sam was looking after the direction Trish and Reg had left in. "Girls, huh?" Then he glanced over at me and nodded at the frame in my hands, grinning knowingly. "Nice picture, there."
I glanced down at it, forgetting I was holding it, and then brought it against my chest, hiding it as Sam snickered at me. "Shut up, Sam." Even as I said it, though, a big goofy smile was plain on my face.
The rest of the day was lazy, basically full of naps on the couch, eating a ton of cookies, and watching more Christmas movies—just like I liked my holidays. Each of us called our families to wish them Merry Christmas—except for Sam, who'd video chatted with his mom for at least an hour and a half, assuring her at least a dozen times that yes, he was fine, and no, he hadn't seen any wolves at the resort. I'd talked to Mom, Lars—"Merry Christmas, assface!" He'd said as soon as he'd answered the phone—and I'd even talked to my dad, and as awkward as it could've been, it wasn't. It almost felt like old times. Almost.
And though he hid upstairs in our room to do it, I caught Otto on the phone with Clio, exchanging 'I love you's and 'I miss you's and 'Merry Christmas, baby's. I sensed that this was the end of their quarrel. I'd known that they wouldn't fight for long.
At dinner time, we ate Raymundo's turkey dinner, complete with Tito's traditional Hawaiian dishes on the side. It was an altogether great holiday, much greater than I'd expected, even though it was different from all the years before. But even if it hadn't had been great, and the rest of the day had gone terribly, Reggie's gift alone would have made it better than the rest.
I lost count of the times I'd looked longingly up at the mistletoe above the kitchen doorway, wishing someone would just shove the both of us underneath it like in the movies, but every time I caught myself thinking that, I would stare down at the framed picture of us instead, reminding myself that this was enough for now. It was more than enough. I would keep waiting. No matter how long it took.
She was all I wanted for Christmas. Getting to spend it with her was better than anything else I could've asked for.
I fell asleep that night staring at that picture, feeling my stomach bubble nervously, wondering when she would watch my DVD and what she'd think of it.
-Reggie's POV-
The bitter cold white of the ski slopes had always been so calming. Even though I loved the ocean, and the way the waves curled and the way the ocean air smelled, there was something about the slopes I loved almost just as much.
Me and Trish sat on the ski lift, being taken to the top of the mountain for what was probably the billionth time. It was 3 days after Christmas, and the slopes were surprisingly crowded today. The post-holiday crowds had come in at full force. Right after the holiday ended, our days at the resort had become packed with activities. I'd been spending a lot of time on the slopes with Trish, and we'd also both spent a lot of time shopping at the shopping center downtown. My brother, Twist, and Sammy had spent equal time between the slopes and ice hockey. Today however, they had decided to spend all day at the ice rink, so it was Trish and I on the packed slopes today.
Admittedly, I really missed playing ice hockey, and it'd been forever since I'd gotten to last. But I opted to spend time alone with Trish instead. It made me relax a little, getting some time away from them. It was just what I needed to enjoy the rest of this trip. These past few days had been a little stressful for…certain reasons.
"You know we're gonna have to talk about this eventually, right?" Trish said, as if she had read my mind and heard exactly what I'd been thinking.
I looked over at her, a dry look on my face. "I know we have to talk about it." I let out a giant, drawn out sigh. "Just let me blow off some more steam first."
Trish laughed. "That's what you said the last two times we went to the top of the mountain." She raised her eyebrows at me, looking at me pointedly. "You know, Reg, holding in all your worries isn't healthy. Just talk to me."
I looked at her guiltily. I'd been holding out on her this whole time, constantly changing the subject whenever she brought it up, and I knew by now she was dying to know what was going on. I pouted a little. "Okay," I said. "I promise we'll talk, right after this trip down. Then we'll go down to the coffee shop and I'll spill."
We were just approaching the top of the lift, and we both shifted on our seat, getting ready to jump off. Trish scrunched up her nose at me and then lowered her ski goggles. "I'll hold you to that, Rocket Girl."
Finally, it was our turn to jump off, and I held my breath as we both pushed off at the same time. My snowboard touched the snow, and immediately, I was off.
The rush of flying down the mountain was always terrifying and exhilarating at the same time, the cold biting into the exposed skin of my face and the wind whipping through my hair. Sometimes it almost felt like skateboarding and surfing at the same time—my snowboard felt more like how my skateboard felt, but the way the snow gave way under my board and the way I was totally vulnerable to the elements around me felt like surfing. In one word: amazing. The way I felt when I boarded down the mountain almost made me want to live in some place cold all the time...but then I thought better of it, deciding being cold 24/7 wasn't worth it.
When I made it to the bottom of the hill, huffing and satisfied, Trish was nowhere in sight. I hadn't realized how fast I'd been going. I took my board off of my boots and stood there to wait, and before I had a chance to start worrying about my friend, she suddenly came into view, boarding towards me and then curving sharply to a stop, spraying me with snow.
"That's for leaving me in the dust," she said, laughing and sitting on the ground to take off her snowboard as well.
I laughed too, shaking the snow out of my hair and lifting up my goggles to rest on top of my head. "I guess I deserved that," I admitted. I held out a hand, helping her back onto her feet. "Let's get out of here and warm up."
It didn't take long to get to the café we'd been frequenting the past couple of days, and we both ordered big drinks—a coffee for me and a chai tea for her—and then settled down at a small table across from each other. Before we could start talking, a little girl and her mother approached our table.
"Excuse me," the mother said, both of her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "Are you Patricia Tom? The surfer?"
Startled, I glanced over at my friend. With surprise, Trish looked up, setting her giant mug down. "Yes, that's me."
The little girl gasped. "Mom, I told you that was her!" She folded her arms. "And she goes by Trish, not Patricia."
The mother squeezed her shoulders. "Yes, but I didn't think we'd see her up in the mountains." She looked up at Trish again, seemingly embarrassed. "I'm sorry to bother you, it's just that my daughter insisted that we come over and ask. She's a big fan. Could we maybe take a picture with you?" She held up a digital camera.
Trish was beaming from ear to ear, a rare sight. She was positively glowing. She sent me an excited look, and I smiled back at her. "Of course you can!" She said, standing up and walking over to them. "Reg, could you take it?"
I jumped up from my seat. "Yeah, sure!" The mother handed me her camera, I counted down from three, and then snapped a picture as they all smiled in my direction.
"You're so cool," the little girl said to Trish as soon as the picture had been taken, looking up at her in amazement. We all laughed. The woman took back her camera, smiling back at me and thanking Trish once again as she lead her excited daughter away, who was waving at Trish frantically.
My friend and I settled back at our table, and Trish brought a hand up to her face—which had turned a bright pink from the whole experience, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'll never get used to being recognized," she said.
"Well get used to it, missy." I said to her, smiling as I sipped on my coffee. "You are cool, you know."
She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Whatever," she muttered. Then, loosening her scarf and taking off her gloves and placing them on the table, she pointed at me. "Anyway, don't think I've been distracted from what's really important here. Talk. Now."
Damn. She'd been so close to forgetting. Sighing hugely, I said. "Okay. So…let's talk about Trent first."
She grimaced, sitting back in her seat. "You mean 'He Who Shall Not Be Named'."
I flinched. "Basically, yeah." I nodded slowly, wrapping my hands around my mug for warmth to chase away the coldness I felt from talking about him. "Well…we're pretty much broken up."
"Pretty much?" She echoed, looking perplexed.
"We are, we are," I clarified quickly, making sure there was no misunderstanding there. "We're definitely broken up. He keeps texting me all the time still, but I never answer. We haven't talked since I confronted him before break started."
"What'd you say to him then?" She took another sip of her tea, raising an eyebrow. "Did you tell him that he's human trash personified and that he should go live in the dump?"
I paused, impressed. "No, but maybe I should have thought of that." I stared down at the pretty swirls of crème in my coffee. "I just told him that we were over for good, and to never contact or talk to me ever again."
Now Trish looked impressed. "Hey, that was pretty good. You left out the part about how he's scum, but that's perfectly acceptable too."
I stifled a laugh. "I never knew you hated him so much. You thought he was cute for a while when we were kids, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but that was like a million years ago. Every girl in our school did. And that was only for like, two seconds," she said, scoffing. "And did I ever spend time with the two of you? Ever?"
I tried to remember a time when the three of us had ever hung out. I couldn't think of one single time. "Oh." Trish nodded as if to say, 'duh'. I continued, shrugging. "I don't blame you, though. And if I'd been smarter, I would've hated him, too." I couldn't believe that I'd let someone who made me feel so powerless and small be such a huge part of my life for so long. The first day I saw his personality change, I should've left him then.
Trent was the first guy I ever liked. Back when he first moved to Ocean Shores, I'd pretended not to be good at surfing just so I could spend time with him; I'd even let him call me Regina, which I never used to let ANYONE do unless they were wishing for death. Eventually he found out that I was actually good at sports, and that I preferred to be called 'Reggie'.
But as I'd found out years later as we began to date, he really preferred 'Regina'. He'd always preferred who 'Regina' was, even though she didn't actually exist, and he did his damnedest to try and force her into existence. And then from there it escalated, trying to control everything else I did. I don't think I would ever understand how someone could change so drastically within a relationship.
My life would have been so different if I had left him sooner, in a thousand better ways. Sometimes I wished I'd never met him.
"You are smart," Trish said to me very seriously. All the amusement was gone from her face, and she was staring at me. "Even smart people get into abusive relationships. And it takes a really strong person to leave one."
Strong. Was that what I was? I didn't know anymore. "I don't feel strong."
"You are. Maybe you don't feel that way right now," she allowed, and then she leaned her chin in her hand. "But you've always been strong before, throughout everything else you've been through. And you'll feel that way again. It just might take some time."
Deep down, I knew she was right. After all, I had started to feel different after the breakup, in a good way. I was still a little sad for no reason sometimes, as everyone feels after a breakup, but my eating habits had already begun to go back to normal. It wasn't perfect yet of course, and sometimes I'd still hesitate to eat even when I was hungry. But then I'd eat, and the nervous feeling passed. It would still take some time before I had a normal relationship with food again, but I just had to be patient with myself and not force it.
I'd also stopped straightening my hair every day, letting my curls flow wild and free. And I'd started to do the things I used to like to do again, like writing and boarding. So maybe I was getting a little stronger again.
And there was something else that was making me feel better these days. Something that hadn't preoccupied me in a good, long while.
I cleared my throat. "Well, anyway. You know, there was…something else I wanted to talk about, too."
This catching her attention, Trish leaned forward over the table, a look of anticipation on her face that told me she knew exactly what I was about to say. "Yes?" She goaded.
My face was growing hot, and I hid it behind one of my hands, groaning. "Oh, look at yourself. You already know. Why do I have to say it?"
Trish giggled, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "Just say it!"
I took my hand away from my face and dropped it into my lap, and I stared down at my hands, squirming and suddenly unable to look at my friend across the table. I sighed, and my voice came out in a mutter. "Twister."
Trish was still giggling. "What about Twister?"
I groaned again, louder this time. "Trish."
"You like him." She'd said it quietly, in fact, her voice was always quiet, but to me, hearing her say this aloud had the effect of her saying it in a megaphone.
My face exploded into a full on glow, and I didn't need to look in a mirror to know I had to be bright red. "You mean I like him again."
Trish covered up her laugh with both of her hands this time. "Oh yeah, that's right. Isn't this like the third time you've had a crush on him the whole time you've been friends?"
I whined, mortified. "Don't remind me. As if I don't already feel crazy enough."
"What's so crazy about it?" She pushed her mug to the side so that she could fold her hands on the table and look at me seriously again. "He likes you. No, he's like, madly in love with you. And he's…hot."
The café was suddenly too warm for me to bear, and I was unzipping my big green coat and shoving it off of my shoulders. I yanked my scarf off, too. "Don't remind me of that, either. Please." I'd been trying hard not to think of that during this entire trip.
"Reg, come on. Admit it. The kid's grown up quite nicely. Didn't you see him on Christmas morning?"
"Of course I saw him. I'd almost had a nervous breakdown." The image of him that morning immediately appeared in my mind; red hoodie stark against his freckles, PJ bottoms, sleepy brown eyes, wavy mussed-up bed hair, the tiniest bit of stubble on his chin. So sexy that it had literally knocked the wind out of me when he'd come downstairs like that. I'd barely gotten it together long enough to give him his X-mas present, which I'd almost chickened out of giving to him at the last second. I'd treasured that picture for years, keeping it in the drawer in my bedside table. It was his now. "Seeing him looking like…that was something that I wasn't prepared for."
"Or something that you didn't realize you needed," Trish said, waggling her eyebrows at me. "Admit it, Reggie. He's boyfriend material."
"Stop," I begged. I covered my face again, feeling the heat in my face on my palms. I shook my head. "I forgot I felt this way about him before Trent and I started dating. I did like Trent at the time too, of course, but...I don't know, Trish. There's just…something about him. Something that makes me never get over him, no matter how much I pretend that I am."
Trish leaned forward eagerly again. "You have to tell me what was on that DVD he gave you. What was it?"
At the mention of the DVD, even just the thought of it made my stomach start doing somersaults inside of me. A few days ago, when I'd watched it on my laptop, alone in mine and Trish's room, I didn't know what I'd been expecting it to be. But it was out of this world.
The DVD had a plain menu that just had the date of X-mas this year and 'Play', and when I clicked play, there were various clips that started to play, set to a Jack Johnson song—one of my favorite musicians. And they were clips of me. Clips of me from forever ago, rollerblading down the boardwalk, clips of me shredding at Mad Town, more recent clips of me smiling across the school hallway where our lockers were and waving at him from the front of our school. Clips of me helping out at the Shack, carrying plates of food to customers and walking past the camera with various funny faces. Clips of me floating on the water on my surfboard, with wet hair and with the sun setting behind my head. And clips of me, not just looking at the camera, but looking past it at him. Smiling at him, laughing at him, rolling my eyes at him, staring at him as he talked to me. Always with a sparkle in my eye, always with this palpably affectionate look on my face.
As I'd watched it, the thought struck me: was this the way I had always looked at him? Even while I was with Trent?
How could I have been so blind?
After 10 minutes of clips—the last one being of me on my surfboard, smiling and raising an eyebrow at him, which I immediately recognized as the day that I almost drowned months ago—it finally switched to a clip of Twister himself, turning on his camera and then leaning back into a chair, sitting in front of the camera. He was wearing his old favorite yellow and brown hat, ragged and riddled with holes. He smiled his goofy, nervous smile, and then simply said, "Merry Christmas, Reg," waved to the camera, and then the video ended, returning to the menu again. I must have sat there staring at the menu for 15 minutes afterwards, my heart pounding wildly and painfully, letting all of the emotions I felt astound and terrify me.
I relayed all of this to Trish now, explaining it in great detail. When I finished, Trish sat back in her seat heavily, blowing her breath out with a puff of her cheeks. "Wow," she said, shaking her head and staring at me. "He loves you. He really loves you."
I swished the coffee around in my mug and watched it. "I know," I replied, not looking up. My throat felt dry.
"I mean you already told me about how he confessed to you, so I already knew. But this…wow." Trish tucked some hair that had fallen loose from under her hat back behind her ear. "Can I tell you something?"
The sudden question caught me off guard. "Sure, shoot."
Trish took a deep breath. "You know, I've always sort of…pictured you two getting together." She stopped suddenly, and then explained, "I mean, you know, not in a weird way. It's just that…you know when you look at two people and just know that one of these days they're going to finally stop messing around and be together. You see them look at each other, and you're just like, 'Wow. I wish someone would look at me like that.'" She smiled gently. "That's you guys. To me, anyway. But a lot of other people see you guys that way too, so maybe it's not just me."
I was stunned. "Really? You see us that way?" Trish had never told me any of this before. No one had. Was this really how everyone else felt about us too?
"Yeah," she said. "Of course. And you guys have been friends for so long. You grew up together. You see each other almost every day, you know each other so well. I think this has been a long time coming." She took a sip of her tea and then set it down again, continuing thoughtfully, "Actually, I'm kind of jealous. I wish the guy I liked knew me that well. I've known him for years, but sometimes it's like we barely know each other."
I'd been taking a gulp of my coffee, and I choked on it, setting down my mug hard with a loud slam. "You like somebody? Oh my God, Trish!" This was big. Trish almost never talked to me about boys, especially not about boys she liked. "Who is it?"
Trish suddenly looked intensely uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat. "Um," she said, cringing hard. "I don't think I should say."
"Why not?"
She was suddenly turning a bright pink, squirming again. "There's a reason I haven't told you, Reggie."
Wait a second…it couldn't be…no… "Why haven't you told me?"
"Because…" she was wincing almost as if she were in pain, blushing so hard that even her ears were pink. Though admitting something like this was probably painful for her, in a way. "…because…"
I was the one leaning eagerly across the table now. "Because…?" I goaded.
A soft sigh of defeat came from her. "Because you're best friends with him."
There was a long pause as I processed this, staring at her with my mouth open. And then I leapt up from my seat, ran over to her side of the table and started shaking her by her shoulders. "SAM? YOU LIKE SAMMY?!"
"Stop shaking me!" Trish said, pushing me off of her. Then she clasped her hands together at me and pleaded, "Please don't tell him, Reg. Please."
I was still freaking out. "Why didn't you tell me you liked him? Oh my God!" I could feel other people in the café staring at us, the only hysterical teenage girls in the room, but I didn't care. There were more important matters happening here. Two of my best friends in the world liked each other and neither of them had any idea.
She answered me in a shout-whisper voice. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd react this way! Now would you please sit down? People are staring!" Trish looked around at the spectators and tried to smile, smoothing her bangs down self consciously.
I rushed back into my seat, falling back down into it in a heap. "Trish," I started.
"Please don't tell," Trish pleaded again, interrupting me. The level of mortification on her face was almost adorable.
"Trish!" I tried to keep from shouting, but she was making it hard not to. "He likes you!"
She looked like she'd been about to beg me not to tell again, but she stopped cold. "What?"
"Sam," I said, beaming at her from ear to ear. "Sammy likes you. He likes you so, so much."
Her normally calm brown eyes had become wide, her brow furrowed. She looked like she was scared to believe me. "How do you know?" She asked. "Do you know for sure? Did he tell you that?"
I threw my hands up in exasperation. "Everyone knows! He didn't have to tell me. It's fact." I reached across the table, grabbing her hands in mine and squeezing. "He's liked you for years. Since he moved to Ocean Shores. And I don't think he's going to stop liking you any time soon."
Most of the uncertainty melted off of her face now, leaving a little glimmer of hope there instead. Her face was still pink, though. "Really?"
"Really." I wasn't sure if Sam would exactly like that I'd told his crush that he liked her, but in this case, I think it was okay. Considering he was her crush too, and all. I put her hands back on the table gently. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone. But I think you should tell him." I shrugged a shoulder, smiling at her. "You've got nothing to lose."
Trish looked down at the table for a few moments, smiling to herself, and then she looked back up at me. She said softly, "You too, though. You have nothing to lose, either."
My smile faded a tiny bit. "I know. I'm gonna tell him, I promise. But I just need a little more time." I sighed. "I just need to make sure I feel okay again first. I don't want to start dating someone if I'm still sad about my ex. Trent really messed me up, you know?"
She nodded somberly. "Yeah, I know."
I continued. "And I just don't want Twister to have to deal with leftover Trent bullshit. I want our relationship to be about us, not about how my ex treated me." I pressed my lips together for a moment. My mind was racing. "But he's been so patient with me, and so sweet. And…amazing. I don't want him to feel like I'm rejecting him. It's been a month since I told him I needed time to give him an answer, and he hasn't pushed me or pressured me to answer once. I feel so guilty about it." I bit my lip.
Trish nodded again. "I'm sure he understands, though," she said. "Don't worry about it. Just take your time. You can't rush these things." She looked at her phone then, checking the time. "Oh, shoot! It's close to dinner time. We'd better head back toward the cabin so Ray doesn't bust us for being late."
Bundling all the way back up again, and taking the rest of our drinks in to-go cups, we trudged back into the snow with our snowboards in tow.
We made it back to the cabin just as Dad was taking dinner out of the oven, and Sam, my brother, and Twister had all made it back minutes before we had arrived. As we all sat down to dinner, talking about what each of us did that day, the conversation me and my best friend had at the café weighed heavily on my mind.
During dessert, I snuck a look at Twister across the table. He was already looking at me, and our eyes locked in an intensely intimate way that felt like more than just a gaze between two people.
I looked away first.
WHEW. That was a doozy of a chapter, wasn't it? *wipes sweat off brow*
Officially only 3 chapters left of the story now! How will things work out from here on?
Please Review! Thank you guys so much, it means a lot!
-MsButterFingers
