Chapters On A Page

I was certain that the longer one stared at Christmas lights, the brighter they got despite vision beginning to blur them into one big, shapeless blob. At least, that was how it was in my current experience. The colors my mother had picked this year were classic red and green, but the colors mingled so well that I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Even when I blinked, everything only came into focus for a short second before it was indefinable again because I had been staring for too long.

Opened gifts were scattered under the tree, arranged into four pseudo piles for my sisters, mother, and myself. The paper and ribbons and bows that had dressed them were shredded and waiting to be stuffed in a garbage bag between the leather couch and the tree. The tree itself was in front of the line of windows where the couch usually was and the couch had been moved so it was back-to-back with the sofa on the raised floor. A Christmas Story was on its annual twenty-four hour run on our television, as it had been all night and morning, but I was only listening to it as I sat with my legs pulled up in the middle of the leather couch. My mother was curled up on the other sofa, watching and laughing at the movie with Sam, who had come over early to spend the day with us. The last time I had looked, both of my sisters had been lying on the floor in front of the TV with pillows under their chests while their elbows rested on the soft carpet and their hands held their heads as they gazed up at the screen.

I was alone though. As alone as I could be while being in the same room with everyone else. The others had tried to coax me several times to join them and watch some of the movie before we had to start getting Christmas dinner together. But I couldn't motivate myself to stop thinking about the other night and stand up to pad over to and be with my family. I had had low expectations for it to be a good night. I had known that no matter what happened, I wouldn't have a good enough time to redeem the whole night. But what had happened had been colossally worse than every single thing I had anticipated. I had been stupid enough to blow up on Dominic in public and admit I hadn't loved him at any point in our relationship though I had let everyone assume that I had in the beginning. And then I had made an even bigger fool of myself by getting absurdly wasted, to the point that Murph had had to scoop me up to go home just as he had to get me there. At least he was gentler the second time around, not whipping me over his shoulder. I couldn't remember much from after the rage had clouded my judgement -and even less after it had been replaced by alcohol- but I was fairly certain I hadn't cleared things up with Alex. So I still had too much on my plate to handle.

I had been completely hungover yesterday, wishing someone would bash my head in simply to rid me of both my headache and the few memories I retained of the party. But no one did. No one was even savvy to the fact that I actually was hungover. Not even when I shoved sunglasses on my face even though it was snowing lightly outside with ash grey clouds in the sky or when I pressed my forehead to the cold passenger side window on the way to my dad's.

I had sobered up and was in a more Christmas-appropriate mood after occupying the couch for an hour or two, just in time for our dad to put Rudolph in just as I had predicted. Lilah and Kaylee had piled onto the couch with me, shoving me this way and that to get comfortable, but our father hadn't ended up joining us as he always did. He was having people over after Trix came to bring us home, so he had been focused on that instead of our annual viewing of a Christmas special we had all seen a million times. I didn't begrudge him for it. My father had had a life before the divorce; I didn't expect him to be moping around and forgetting all about the friends he had now just because he was single. A few of his guests had begun to arrive early, and I had slipped away from between my younger sisters to pretend to participate in the fun. With deft fingers and no one paying me the least bit of attention even with a idiotically large smile on my face, I had something to calm me down -theoretically, anyway. I smoked my first cigarette since before Emma had died after everyone else had gone to bed, inhaling as I never had when joking around with my big sister, unleashing smoke into the freezing air while I stood on the back porch on Christmas Eve. It had been easier to sleep, for some reason, knowing I had done it, but it was just another thing on my mind this morning.

It wasn't doing me any good to feel guilty about anything I had done in the last seventy-two hours, I concluded after I had spent too long doing so already. I gave a huff that was possibly too loud, that still went unnoticed by the others in the room, and I forced myself up from the cushions I had practically made myself a part of. A quick triple dog dare, and I headed to the kitchen as I had planned. There was already food that had been cooking since we had woken up, permeating the house with savory scents that collectively could only be described as Christmas to me. I checked the contents of both of the ovens, knowing my mother wasn't going to jump up anytime soon to do it, and then I shuffled over to the fridge to start my contribution to the dinner. Dessert, what I did best.

I had made the dough for the tarts after getting home from my dad's, and it now hit the counter with a loud thump when I let it fall from my hands to the surface. The plastic wrap I had stored it in left creases in it, turning it as imperfect as my life had become. I had to shake my head to make certain that I didn't compare my life to dough ever again, let alone while I was attempting to bake to get my mind off of my mistakes. Somehow, it was much easier to focus after that. I rolled out the lump of formless dough into an even more misshapen blob that just happened to be flat. A knife held carefully and gently between my fingers, I cut sunburst shapes into the thin layer of dough and laid them each aside to await the oven while I continued to work with what was left over. Baking cleared my head the way nothing else really could. I didn't have to think about anything other than what was right in front of me, the ingredients of whatever I was making and making sure everything was blended perfectly together. Nothing else had to make sense or even matter. I had never been quite sure if I was so good at it because I liked to have my thoughts on this one thing only, or if it was easy to rid myself of other thoughts because I had a talent with pastries.

Eventually, both my mother and her boyfriend came out to join me so our holiday dinner could actually get made and finished. The rest of the day played out just as it had been arranged and I had no problem moving on from all the things that had been turning my stomach. My grandparents -Trix's parents- came bearing more gifts for all of us and more kisses for my sisters and I than anyone could possibly imagine. Not long after, my aunt Carla and uncle Mark showed up, of course with Zack and Sam in tow. The house was full of conversation and laughter, all of us speaking at once while others made jokes or told stories filled with sarcasm. All three of my best friends were also in and out of the house throughout the afternoon, exchanging gifts and taking solace in my family when they had had enough of their own. Everyone was welcome and I was glad to have each and every person that had roamed around my house during the day.

Once evening rolled around, everyone was departing, climbing into their cars after warm, loving embraces from the rest of us. That included myself as well, waiting patiently against the trunk of my mom's car while she said goodbye to Sam with more flirting than I thought any parting should entail. He was the last one here though, and I knew Trix would want to drag it out as long as she could. We were to be heading over to my dad's parents' to continue the Christmas celebration with the other half of our family. Even my mother was going to be warmly welcomed though my father had made it so she wasn't technically a part of his family anymore. Kay and Lilah were already waiting anxiously in the backseat of the idling car, giggles meeting my ears the longer they had to wait for our mom. I had been up for far too long and it felt like the day had already been a full twenty-four hours, and standing there wasn't helping in any way. My mouth opened wide in a yawn while I continued to wait and I covered my face with both of my gloved hands, and I kept them there a moment longer than necessary as if a second with my eyes closed was the equivalent of a few hours taken over by a nap. When I lifted my head, I wished I really had been asleep instead of standing out in the cold just anticipating leaving.

Alex had somehow pulled up silently, going unacknowledged by each and every one of us though his car was parked on the street right across from the driveway. He made his way up the pavement without a word, right passed Trix and Sam who didn't even see him despite him setting off the motion sensor light. He was coming right towards me, there was no denying. And yet I still looked around me to see if there was anyone else around. "Hey," he greeted in an almost somber manner. His hands were already stuffed in the pockets of his jeans but he tested to see if he could get them deeper into the cotton-lined denim as he fidgeted uncomfortably. "I guess a Merry Christmas is in order as well," he said with a shrug and a smirk. He was trying to be as normal as he ever was, but I could tell he was struggling with it.

It made me even angrier. What did he have to be agonizing over that would have him acting this way? "What are you doing here, Alex?" I demanded to know, getting right to the point. I refused to beat around the bush and drag this all out like he clearly wanted to do. "I thought you were going out of town for Christmas," I wondered, only bringing it up because I wished he was anywhere but here.

He shook his head, not thrown off guard by the statement and not missing a beat with his answer. "Nah. My family flew in to spend the rest of the year with us," he informed me with another small smirk. He was trying hard to break through the ice I had built around myself in the last sixty seconds, but to no avail.

"Then what are you doing here?" I asked again, and it was chilled by that very same ice. I had no reason to be mad at him; I was well aware of this. But I instinctively wanted to be mad at someone, and I only felt exhausted when I thought about having Dominic in the path of my anger once again. I had spent so long being furious with him. I had to take a break, let my temper build itself back up to its boiling point. So now it was Alex stuck with my acerbic remarks and hints that I wanted nothing to do with him for a while.

"I just…" he stuttered and hesitated, looking around at the day turning ever darker to find exactly what he wanted to express. "Can we just talk?" he questioned, falling short of the fate-defining words he had probably wanted. There was desperation in his voice and his dark eyes were pleading with me to agree, to understand.

But I didn't understand so I was going to decline to agree. "No," I responded, and I could hear just how harsh it sounded. I wanted to take it back the moment it rolled off my tongue. I wanted to listen to whatever he had to say and put my arms around him and forget all about the things that had kept me from doing that for weeks. But it was those same things that had me planting my feet firmly on the concrete of the garage floor and persisting on the same way I had been. "Go home, 'Lex. Spend time with your family and call your girlfriend. Spend tonight thinking about her, not worrying about me," I commanded of him, wanting nothing more for him than to forget about me as anything but a friend. This wasn't the way I had planned to do so but it was going to have to work for the time being. I walked away from him then, edging around the car to get to the passenger seat.

"Val," he called after me in a level voice, knowing that yelling wasn't needed when I was only a foot away from him. I gave him no answer though. Instead, I turned back while I opened the door and waggled my fingers at him in some form of a wave before I slid into my seat. "Valerie," he repeated, louder this time so I would hear him through the windows closed up tight. Both of my sisters twisted around in their seats to stare at him, not knowing what was going on because they hadn't been paying attention to know that he had even been here. I used the side mirror to see what he was doing, but turned just as my siblings had after a minute. He was visibly angry that I had just walked away from him, but he threw his hands up in defeat and started back down the driveway. Trix was aware of the world outside of Sam again by now since he had climbed into his own car to go home, and she was as surprised to see Alex as I had been. Hers was much more on the positive side though and she hugged him zealously. I had to turn back around in my seat before I let out a burst of giggles that he may have witnessed. He had been right about something. Trix loved him.

She was in the driver's seat a few moments later, catching me at the tail end of my laughter that I didn't bother to stifle. She pulled out of the garage, backing out of the driveway when she couldn't get the reasoning behind my chortles out of me. I was happy to see that Alex had already left before we made it to the street.

My grandparents lived a half hour away from Towson, but it was nowhere near a well-populated area. The roads leading us there were lined with farms or fields or woods, only a few houses not attached to a barn popping up every few miles. They liked it out here though, which was why they had been in the same house since the day they got married. It always seemed to be a bit colder and I was convinced the snow fell in thicker blankets with bigger flakes because of this. So there was a fine white powdering that covered every surface, including a thicker layer of snow that had hardened underneath. I ignored the cleared paths on the ground that my grandpa had painstakingly dug out that everyone else walked, instead opting to run over the snow. With each step, my weight was only held for a second or two before I fell through, freezing my legs up to the calf, but I carried on, too stubborn to care and too delighted to quit. I was away from Dominic. I was away from Alex. I was away from the stupid problems that boys inevitably caused in my already messed up life.

It was warm inside the house, both from the presence of so many of my aunts and uncles and from the fire shining brightly from the fireplace in the dining room. My grandmother insisted on giving each of the kids -which consisted of myself, Lilah and Kaylee, and a dozen or so of our cousins- hot chocolate before we opened gifts together while the adults were handed eggnog that I could smell the booze in from ten feet away. Once again, it was wonderful to have everyone together, to be with my family in a way we never were any other time of year. The holidays made it special, like the freezing weather and the decorations and just the date itself brought us closer.

As I often was, I was seated next to my grandfather, nestled into his side with his arm around me. He was the one that had sparked my interest in photography nearly two years before, and he was adamant about making my collection grow by buying me a different camera whenever he could. Each Christmas, birthday, even Easter, he delightfully presented me with a box he had wrapped himself that always contained a camera he had acquired over the years or had found and liked enough to get for me. With those cameras, he was always my first subject. I had countless portraits of my grandfather, each printed and stacked in a box I kept hidden beneath the loose floorboard in my room. Obtaining a few more while he smiled and laughed away was exactly what I was doing when my phone began to ring, puncturing my cheerful demeanor with its shrill sound. I simply knew there was no way that it was going to be someone I actually wanted to talk to, and with just one glance at the screen as I slipped it out of my purse proved me correct. When I didn't answer, Alex didn't give up.

I was forced to turn my phone on silent and throw it back in my purse, trying my best to continue with the good time I was having with everyone. I snapped pictures the rest of the night of my family mingling together, weaving in and out of them to make sure I caught each and every good part on film. I happily witnessed my mother and father talking to each other, both acting like the adults they were with smiles on their faces and a little bit of the spark they had had for years together showing through. I didn't have hope that they would ever get back together. That would be naive, wishful thinking. But at least I had the opportunity to capture the moment for myself, to look back on and remember that even when they no longer loved each other as they used to, they still remembered the times when they did. My grandmother also made sure that we all ate, and ate some more, apparently fearful that food wouldn't be part of our lives until we all saw her again. Even though I was running around, she still had me sit down every ten minutes to have me a devour a stack of cookies while she watched over me with a smile. After four hours of this, I was completely stuffed, dragging myself around as I gathered up my things to thankfully go home.

After more hugs and kisses from each and every one of my relatives that currently occupied my grandparents' house, there was a silent ride home with my mom and sisters. Kay was asleep before we were half a mile away from the house, and Li followed after fifteen minutes. I fought it, but I was stumbling when I walked into the kitchen from the garage, and I clung to the railing on the stairs as I climbed them to get to my room. With the lights still off, I carefully set my things on my desk before feeling my way back over to the light switch and I kicked the door shut while turning back to my now illuminated room. I was just getting ready to reach my hands behind my back to get at the zipper of my dress when I noticed a person sitting on my bed. I had to stifle a scream to ensure my mother didn't come up to see what was going on.

"What the fuck, Alex? Are you seriously trying to give me a heart attack? That's terrible revenge. Abstaining from talking to you all day should not be met with death," I claimed bitterly, my hand over my heart. I could feel my breathing go down, but I was still just as angry when I took notice of him hiding a chuckle at my reaction. "How did you even get in here?" I questioned, bending one of my legs behind me so I could grab my shoe off my foot just to whip at him.

He dodged it, letting it bang against the wall behind him and clatter to the floor. "Do you remember that time you were sick, and I lied and said I shimmied up the drainpipe?" he wondered, to which I nodded my head though I only vaguely remembered. "Yeah, I didn't do that this time either. I got in the same way though. Through the side door into the garage," he answered truthfully. He had been angry with me before I had left but it apparently had all faded because he was smiling at me now, completely ignoring the scowl that had taken over my face as I came toward him.

"What now?" I asked, my arms crossed firmly over my chest. I had been angry as well during our last encounter, and it had only been a few hours ago. But I had known at the time that I didn't want to be, so it was no surprise to me now that I wasn't mad any longer either. But I figured I should keep up with the charade until he gave me a reason not to.

Alex was quiet for a minute, chewing on his lip as he turned a thought over in his mind. I waited impatiently, tapping my foot against the hardwood, only because I wanted to know exactly what that thought was. I wanted the night to be over with so I could climb into my bed and sleep until noon. He shot up then, breaking the train of my own thought and he took the two steps that separated us from each other. "I want to know what you meant when you answered your truth as claiming you were in love over the summer," he stated lowly, sounding very demanding though his voice was smooth and alluring. I stared up into his eyes, feeling the lump that had formed in my throat that blocked the single no that wanted to come out. I shook my head at him instead, hoping that I looked as determined to keep it to myself as I wanted to. He sighed, frustrated, turning his head to the side to gaze at the floor. When he looked up again, I only caught a glimpse of the look in his eyes before I realized he had taken my hand and was pulling me to the bed. I didn't object. There was just no more resistance left in me. We fell to the mattress and he locked both of his arms around me once we were both comfortable, nuzzling his nose in my hair. My hands held him there, deciding for me that I didn't want him to get up. "Then I just want you to lay here with me."