Together by This Christmas Tree

cally mcgregor
I straddled the box full of John’s ornaments, picking up one at a time and handing them to him as he attached them to his tree, smiling brightly. I knew that smile though: the holding back one, the testing the waters one. I knew in that instant, holding a glass globe with his name written in gold, that this was going to be it for awhile. “What’s the story behind this one?” I asked, gently handing the globe to him as he stuck it near the top of the tree. He smiled.

“My mom and I made matching ornaments when I was eight,” He said, and I giggled, digging through the box. He always told me the story behind his ornaments as I handed them to him, and sometimes they were cute. “Hey, what can I say? I’m a Momma’s boy.” He looked back at his tree, and kept talking to me.

“So, love life, Ms. Cally?” I laughed, a deep, booming and sarcastic laugh that didn’t sound like my own. He looked over at me, his green eyes flashing like he was angry. I coughed, before looking back into the blue box.

“I don’t have one. I just, I guess I get too caught up in my own life to be caught in someone else’s, you know? I think that’s why Damien’s my only friend. He tries so hard to stay friends with me, and I know I make it hard.” I shrug, not looking up from the box, my hands resting on the sides.

I didn’t know why I was telling him all this. Maybe it was because I just really cared about him, but maybe it was because he just looked trustworthy somehow. He said nothing, simply took the next ornament from me, which was a small polar bear, similar to one I had when I was younger. “You know, maybe you’re just scared of commitment, of relationships,” He said quietly, and I said nothing.

I was scared. Ever since my dad, relationships seemed so hard. I was just old enough to understand that everyone I loved was leaving me; my dad, my grandparents, who died in a plane crash, and my mom’s best friend, who died of breast cancer the next year. Nothing was making sense and since then, it seemed only Damien could get through to me. He had been dating Isabelle for almost two years, and I still didn’t completely trust her like I trusted Damien.

I handed John another ornament, and he cursed quietly. “Was it something I said? I’m not good at saying things,” John said, sounding sweeter than he ever had. I pulled an amazing fake smile, one I wasn’t even sure I possessed, and laughed, handing him another glass ball.

“I’m okay, I promise,” I said, grabbing a few more glass orbs in my hands and standing slowly, reaching on my tiptoes to put them on the tree, John laughing behind me. I stuck my tongue out.

“Leave me alone, O’Callaghan!” I said, turning around and sticking my tongue out further, making him laugh as he grabbed me around the waist, running down his apartment’s hallway and flopping me on his bed and began tickling me, straddling my waist and his fingers dancing across my stomach.

But I was good at this game.

I rolled over, gaining control, and tickling him and laughing harder than he was, laughing at how he was squirming under my hands and screaming like a little girl. I eventually laughed, rolling over and laying next to him, trying to catch my breath, not looking at him in fear of laughing harder.

“Damn, you’re really good at that game,” John said, breathing shallowly as he slowly sat up, me following and giggling. “You’re one of those friends I can wrestle with, aren’t you?” I noticed the stress on the word ‘friends’, but chose to ignore it. I laughed, nodding.

“Yeah, and I’ll definitely be fighting back.” I said, my hands reaching for his stomach, which he blocked skillfully. His eyes lit up like my neighbor’s kids when they got excited, and he looked at me with a huge smile.

“Wanna play hide and seek?” He asked, and I closed my eyes, and started counting to twenty.

“So, you talked, and then played hide and seek? Basically.” Damien stared at me as I brushed my hair, standing in front of my bathroom mirror and getting ready to go to bed, hoping I could finally get some sleep. But I knew better than anyone, that it rarely even happened that I slept at all.

I laughed, and twirling my hair around my fingers, sticking a toothbrush in my mouth and ignoring how Damien kept pulling his boxer shorts lower. He was always joking that we should just have sex and get it over with, but Isabelle, in all seriousness, wanted us to, so it wouldn’t be as awkward. She didn’t know about my crush on Damien all through high school.

“Yeah, basically,” I said, coming out mangled from the toothbrush in my mouth and the hair distracting my other hand.

“You two would be the most cliche couple ever.” Damien’s voice was flat, and I knew his weekend with Isabelle must not have been all that great if he wasn’t practically jumping for joy constantly, which he normally did on great nights or days with Isabelle, who he evidently loved more than anyone else in the world.

“We aren’t a couple, Damien. We are anything but.” I shrugged, tying my hair up on top of my head. “We are friends, and you know, it’s nice to have someone other than you who I’m friends with, and gosh, Damien, this changes everything.”