As Michelle stepped out of the car, she noticed with delight that it had started snowing. Only slightly, but still. She closed her eyes, taking in the chilly air and falling snowflakes with bliss. She remembered one of the reasons she liked Christmas so much. It didn't always snow in her neighborhood, but when it did...
She wished she had dressed a little warmer, but thankfully, she had packed a silky red shawl in her handbag. She took it out and wrapped it around her shoulders. It offered little protection, but she didn't really mind. As Elsa would say, the cold never bothered her anyway.
She staggered back in surprise as her vision was suddenly blocked by something wet and heavy. Sputtering, she reached up to her face, realizing immediately what it was when her bare hand connected with the cold texture. She pushed it off and wiped off her skirt with the napkins in her handbag, an angry glare forming on her face as her narrowed eyes fell on the culprit—Tommy.
He giggled fiendishly, fueling her anger, though it was much less serious than when she usually dealt with Tommy. "Oh, you're gonna get it!" He ran away from her, still giggling, as she scanned the area for where he'd gotten the snow from. There. A small, but noticeable pile by the nearest streetlamp.
She raced over and tried cupping some in her hands to make a ball, but it wasn't easy. She was always a bit disappointed that snow was never fluffy or soft like it looked in the movies. Instead, it was more like mashed up ice. She had to resist the urge to drop it out of her hands, being so unbearably cold. So much for the cold not bothering her. She wished she had ice powers too. Then she could create and chuck snowballs without even touching them.
She finally managed to scoop a reasonable amount into her now numb hands—she seriously needed gloves—and chased after Tommy, who was now almost to the car. She got close enough to throw it just when she thought her hands couldn't take anymore, watching with a satisfied smirk as the clumsily made clump connected very nicely with Tommy's pristine black suit, making him squeal and then laugh.
Just then, her parents looked up just in time to see the snow clump—calling it a ball was too generous—hit Tommy. They had been deeply invested in their phone, no doubt checking when and where exactly the pageant would take place. Upon noticing it was snowing, they must've had the foresight to don a scarf, beanie and jacket kept in the boot of the car just in case. Predictably, Mrs. Webster frowned at Michelle, hurrying over to see if Tommy was alright.
"Are you hurt, dear?" Mrs. Webster dusted him off, checking for damage, as if he had been hit by a bullet instead of the snow.
"I'm fine, Mom," replied Tommy, looking slightly disappointed that he didn't have a chance to hit Michelle back.
Once she was sure that precious Tommy was alright, Mrs. Webster turned her attention to Michelle, frowningc at her. "Honestly, Michelle. You're assaulting your brother on Christmas? I'd have thought better of you."
Assaulting? Really? "I wasn't!" she insisted. "He hit me first!"
"I was just having fun!" protested Tommy.
"Regardless, you shouldn't have hit back," said Mrs. Webster primly. "You're a teenager now, and he's a little boy. You could have really hurt him."
Michelle scoffed. "What, could the snow break that suit you spent so long fighting to get him in?" The sarcastic retort was out before she could stop it.
Mrs. Webster's eyes narrowed. Before she could say anything, Mr. Webster came up next to her. "Michelle, we're doing this pageant for you. We could easily cancel it if you're going to give us a hard time."
Michelle knew better than to retort that he should tell Tommy not to give her a hard time. She simply nodded. "Yes, sir."
"At least put something warm on!" exclaimed Mrs. Webster, already heading to the boot of the car. "I was going to make you, but then I started wondering when exactly the pageant would be. We can't be late, after all. Luckily, it seems we have plenty of time. Good thing you didn't make us late." She narrowed her eyes at Michelle.
Suddenly, Michelle was hit by yet another burst of memories. Tommy had tried to initiate a snowball fight like this before, but she had refused to partake, not wanting to get her dress dirty. Of course, Tommy had thrown snowballs anyway, and that was how her dress had gotten ruined. And of course, her parents had still blamed her for some reason.
A short while later, they were all warmly bundled up. Tommy protested and squirmed as his mother forced the slightly oversized sweater onto him, though Michelle imagined it was nothing compared to the fight he had put up over that suit. After finishing, Mrs. Webster stepped back and practically cooed at how "cute" he looked.
As they walked up to the theatre, Tommy tried unsuccessfully to scratch at his sweater with his mittens. "Do I have to wear this? It's kind of itchy."
"You can take it off when we get in the theatre," replied Mrs. Webster without looking back.
"Now that we're all dressed, can we keep playing?" asked Tommy. "The snowballs won't hurt me now."
Mrs. Webster shook her head. "No, Tommy. You could still get hurt, a child as young as you. And I don't trust Michelle to go easy on you."
Michelle snorted. Honestly, her parents made it sound like her brother was some porcelain doll.
Once they entered the theatre, it took a good five minutes for them to locate their show. As they stepped into the show playing The Nutcracker, Michelle breathed a sigh at how warm it was. It had been slightly warmer indoors, but not as much as in here. The warm, toasty atmosphere was a welcome relief from the chilly, biting cold.
Soft, elegant music was playing, but the curtains on stage hadn't even opened yet. Several minutes passed after they took their seats.
Tommy started bouncing up and down in his, which was regretfully next to Michelle. "When will this start?" he whined.
"Tommy, you have to wait," admonished Michelle. "It takes a while."
"Let's play I Spy," suggested Tommy.
"No!" groaned Michelle. "I hate that game."
In truth, she didn't hate it as much as she hated how Tommy played it. He always came up with the most specific, impossible to guess things, usually insulting her.
Tommy ignored her. "I spy, with my big, ginormous eye..." As if to demonstrate, he got out of his seat and faced Michelle, leaning extremely close to her and staring right into her eyes, causing her to back away. "...something beginning with S."
Michelle groaned. She could already guess this. "Stupid?"
"No."
"Stupid sister?"
"No. But close."
"Stupid sister who only cares about her looks?"
"No. But that would have been a good one."
When Michelle didn't reply, instead simply sighing, he explained, "Stupid, weird sister who forced us to come to this boring pageant!" He burst into an obnoxious fit of giggles as if he had told the funniest joke to ever grace comedy. If hyenas could laugh, Michelle imagined that was exactly how they sounded like. She could hear her parents chuckling slightly in the other seat. No doubt if she told the same joke to Tommy, they'd deem it inhumane.
"Ha-ha," Michelle replied drily. She was starting to take back her earlier kindness towards Tommy and thoughts of him being cute.
"Now it's your turn."
"I don't want to play," she replied shortly. She just wanted to see the pageant, no matter how long it took.
After a few moments of silence, during which the pageant had still not started, she heard a humming in the seat next to her. A very familiar humming.
Michelle groaned. She felt like pulling her hair, like ripping her ears off. Please, music, get louder, please, pageant, start...
It was no use. She winced and closed her eyes with begrudging acceptance as the dreaded tune filled her ears.
Tommy, noticing his sister's discomfort, began to sing louder. "The snow glows white on the mountain tonight..."
Michelle groaned, covering her ears with her hands. Ever since that movie had come out a few months ago, Tommy had been obsessed. He couldn't stop humming the songs. Especially that one. Michelle had occasionally teased him for liking a princess movie, but quickly regretted it as he took it upon himself to sing that song every opportunity he got. She was actually kind of surprised he hadn't sung it earlier today, it being Christmas and everything. Maybe he was just waiting for the perfect time to ruin the pageant for her.
It didn't help that Tommy had the most annoying voice known to humanity. Well, eight-year-old Tommy did, anyway. Six-year-old Tommy's voice was actually kind of cute, in that squeaky, high-pitched way.
Great. She was back to calling him cute.
Then again, most little kids' voices sounded at least a little cute. But no amount of high-pitched cuteness could salvage this song. She couldn't believe that at one point, she had actually kind of liked it.
When he got to the first "let it go", she couldn't take it anymore. The drawn-out, belted line must've been heard by everyone in the pageant, even over the considerable chatter. After a moment, she growled, turned in her seat, and turned to Tommy. "Shut up! Shut up and—"
She paused. Tommy had left his seat. Now that she thought about it, he had stopped singing after "let it go". Instead, she had accidentally yelled it to the girl in the next seat across. The girl, who was already facing Michelle's direction, blinked in surprise.
Michelle felt her cheeks heating up. "Sorry. I was talking to someone else."
The girl nodded in understanding. "Little brother?"
"How'd you know?"
"I think everyone in the theatre heard that awful rendition of Let It Go," she joked. "And to be honest, I've kind of been watching you two for a while. It's more entertaining than The Nutcracker, at any rate."
Michelle groaned. "It'd be way better without him."
"Tell me about it," she agreed. "As if the pageant isn't enough of a snooze fest, my babysitter has to come with us. She has to be one of the most boring people alive."
"I don't know where my brother's gone." Michelle craned her head to scan the theatre, spotting him hiding under a seat, giggling. "If he's playing hide and seek, I'm not finding him."
Just then, three people, a man and two women (one of the women considerably older) walked up next to the girl. She gave a little groan and turned her attention to the empty stage.
Michelle took pity on her. If they both had people ruining the pageant for them (even though the girl seemed considerably less interested in it than she was), the least she could do was help her out.
Suddenly, the girl spoke to the younger woman in the seat next to hers. "Mom, can I go to the bathroom? Please?"
Her mom frowned. "Honestly, Sam, you really expect me to believe that? I know you don't want to see the pageant, but the least you could do is refrain from making such excuses."
"But I really need to go this time!" insisted Sam. "Honest!"
"I'll go with her," Michelle spoke up suddenly.
Sam's mom turned to her. "And who are you?"
"I'm Michelle. Me and Sam have been talking for a while here," explained Michelle. That wasn't totally a lie. "I could go with her."
"Alright then," said Sam's mother, though she mostly looked pleased her daughter had made a friend. "Make sure she doesn't stay too long, will you?"
Sam rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. She's not my babysitter, Mom! Besides, I already have one." Before her mother could say anything, Sam grabbed Michelle's arm and the two of them raced through the row of seats and down the steps leading to the front of the stage.
When they had found the ladies room in the bathroom at the back of the theatre, Sam said, "Thanks for that. I thought I was going to explode if I had to sit there any longer!"
"Not a fan of The Nutcracker?" asked Michelle.
"More like nutcracker nightmare!" groaned Sam. "Bad enough my parents forced me to come, the actors seem to be putting on the finishing touches of makeup or something."
"It's good to come a little late, so you don't have to wait as long," suggested Michelle. She added, "Sam is short for Samantha, right?"
Sam groaned. "Oh, don't call me that name. And my parents always insist on me coming early."
"We might as well go to the bathroom now that we're here," suggested Michelle. "It's a long play, after all."
After going to the bathroom, they hovered around for as long as they dared before going back. As they headed up to their seats, they saw the curtains on stage open.
"There you are!" exclaimed Mrs. Webster as Michelle sat down. Tommy was back in the seat next to Michelle, to her dismay. "It's starting! Where were you?"