Chapter 17

Jason's Point of View

It's Christmas Eve, and I've spent the entire day doing my break Calculus homework; My mom has been hiding in her bedroom all day and my friends are all with their families. I doubt I'll even have anything to eat tonight. It's not like I'm surprised; holidays in my house are almost always like this. I can't help but feeling disappointed, though, because Christmas is my favorite holiday.

I'm about to get up to get more coffee when my cell phone rings. I dive for it, on the slight chance it might be Nico.

To my surprise, it actually is this time.

"Jason," he says. He doesn't sound angry, but I know he must be; he's been ignoring me for a week.

"Hey," I respond. "What's up?" I ask, though there are a hundred more pressing questions running through my mind.

"Want to come over?" he asks.

"Uh- Yeah, sure, but aren't you with your family?"

"They said it's okay. Everyone's helping make dinner, but letting me help… let's just say that wouldn't be smart."

I notice that this is the first time he's ever called Ms. Jackson Sally. It makes me even more confused. He sounds… good. But he should be pissed at me, and probably his family, too. Who knows how they're reacting to everything.

Once I get off the phone with him, I pull on a pair of shoes and this knit Christmas sweater with a snowman on it. I leave my mom a note on the counter after checking to see that she's asleep. Then I get the keys and get in the car. I drive to his house way faster than an unlicensed kid probably should, but I arrive in one piece.

When I do, he's already sitting on the curb. He's wearing my jacket again, and the sight of him relieves nervous energy I didn't even know I had. He's wearing my jacket, and he doesn't look angry, and he doesn't hate me. He does look serious, though, but he smiles when he sees me. I smile back.

He stands up and I walk to him, stopping with about 5 feet between us.

"Hey," I say.

"Let's go on a walk," he says without hesitation. "I haven't looked at all of the lights yet this year."

I smile. "I used to do that every year, when I was little, until…" I trail off.

He nods knowingly. "Let's go."

I follow him onto the sidewalk, where we end up next to each other. I notice him trying to match his steps with mine.

It's a beautiful night tonight. It's cold, but the sky is clear and the stars are bright. For some reason, I'm reminded of a story my mom told me when I was little. She said that stars were actually holes poked in the sky, and that their light was light from heaven shining through. I'm smiling at the memory when Nico pulls me out of my own head.

"I was really, really angry at you, at first," he says.

"Yeah, all of the ignored texts and calls kind of clued me in on that one."

"Sorry," he says half-heartedly. "Reyna came by the other day, though, and somehow managed to convince me to talk to you. She's very persuasive."

"Yeah," I agree awkwardly. "How did- How's everyone taking it?"

"There's been a lot of hugging and crying," he says honestly. "And when they found out about the stitches, they forced me to get them checked out by a doctor. Surprisingly, he was impressed by your work and said they were safe to leave in."

"Well, of course," I joke. I don't know what else to say.

"They put me on Zoloft," he says.

"Really?" I ask. "How is it?"

"Well it hasn't really done much yet but make me sick. Supposedly that'll go away in a few days, though. And they're- I'm being forced against my will to see a therapist."

"Really?" I ask again. "When?"

"Two days. Merry Christmas to me."

"Hey, this is going to be good for you."

He doesn't respond, but busies himself looking at the lights strung from the houses. We pass one that someone went all out on; it's hard to look at because there are so many lights, and the ground is covered with fake snow. There's a snowman that lights up and wave when you walk by it; it must have a motion sensor. Set up on the roof is a full-size sleigh with nine fake reindeer attached. In it sits a Santa with a very full belly and a couple of elves.

The next house has a blow up Santa in a leather jacket sitting on a motorcycle. When Nico sees it, his face lights up with joy. Seeing him smile again warms me up from the inside out, and I laugh at how childlike he seems. It both surprises me and amazes me that someone who feels his pain so deeply can feel so much happiness at something so simple.

Like my puns.

"We should take a picture with him," I suggest, only half joking.

His face falls. "Oh- Um, I don't really, you know. I don't like pictures."

"Come on, don't be silly," I say. I know he's not really being silly, and that I should take his fears seriously, but I think he's taking himself too seriously. I pull out my phone and walk towards the Santa. "Besides, you look good."

This makes him so flustered that he actually agrees, joining me at the Santa's side. I open the front camera on my phone and hold it up, wrapping my arm around both Nico's and the Santa's shoulders. The flash goes off when I take it.

I pull the phone closer and grin at the picture. Both of our cheeks and noses are bright red from the cold. I'm sticking my tongue out and he's smiling through closed lips. He's also holding up two fingers behind my head, making it look like I have bunny ears.

"Seriously?" I laugh.

He shrugs, pretending to look innocent.

My heart suddenly swells. "Can I hold your hand?" I ask all in one breath.

He nods timidly and holds his hand out to me. I intertwine my fingers through his. It's not the first time we've done this, but something about it is different this time. It's always so raw and real and intense with him, because that's the way he feels things. Tonight, though, it's exciting and somehow new and it makes me feel alive.

We keep walking.

"Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year," he says as we pass another elaborately decorated house.

"Really?"

"Is it that surprising?"

"Kind of," I reply truthfully. "It's mine too, though. I mean, in case the dorky sweater didn't clue you in."

He laughs, pretending to see my sweater for the first time. "Oh, I didn't notice. I just. Everyone is so much happier and kinder. And I love the lights," he adds, looking up at them.

"And there are cookies."

"That too," he chuckles. "Sally makes the best cookies. Not that I can really eat them anymore, though…" He trails off.

"That's the second time you've called her Sally, today," I point out.

"So?"

"You've always called her Ms. Jackson."

"Oh," he hesitates. "I guess after everything, it seems too formal. I- this will probably sound dumb."

"Probably," I say. "Say it anyways."

He looks at me like he's discovering something new. "I never really felt at home there until… Until they found out. I mean, I feel a little bit like I'm in prison still, and whenever it's brought up I want to hide. But they're- they're just supportive, I guess."

"I know what you mean. I mean, my family's broken. I have to take care of my mom. And I guess I don't remember what having a real, safe home feels like."

There's a moment of silence, in which a billion unsaid things seem to pass between us.

But this time, Nico doesn't leave them unsaid.

He stops in front of a streetlight decorated with garland, so I do too. He looks up at me. His eyes sparkle like the stars.

"You feel like home," he whispers.

"You do, too," I say, and it's true. As cheesy as it sounds.

There's another silence as a car passes by us before he says, "Are we going to- to talk about what you said?"

"What?" I ask with no idea what he's talking about.

Then it hits me.

I said "I love you".

And he ran away.

But tonight, he's not running.

He's staring up at me, waiting for a response. He's-

He's staring at my lips.

I smirk. "You can kiss me if you want."

His eyes widen as he turns a furious shade of pink. "I wasn't-"

But I don't want to listen to his excuses, not tonight. I gently cup his face as I lean forward and crush our lips together. He stands up on his toes, and I laugh into his mouth. He doesn't pull away, but he kisses me harder, like he's hungry for something only I can give him.

And god, it's amazing. It's everything we've felt in the past few weeks in one kiss. It's like the music that makes you feel alive. We are alive and we feel as bright as the stars.

When we pull apart, I say, "Does that mean you love me, too?"

He punches me in the arm.

I take that as a yes.