Keep Me Guessing

While both my sister and I had stopped believing in Santa Claus so many years before, underneath the tree on Christmas morning, there were presents for us, addressed from him. I remember vaguely about my mom telling me that it wasn't Christmas without getting at least one present from him. My sister, at twelve, valued the power of sleep, something I thanked God for, remembering all the years of her waking me up at three, which was too early for even me, and having her crawl into bed with me. This year, she waited until nine thirty. I had been up for awhile before that; writing. But this time it wasn't my usual story, it was a poem, one I was having difficulties writing. I was staring out the window from my seat, looking at the ocean, vying for inspiration.

Faye walked into my room wearing plaid pajama bottoms and a Green Day shirt I had once given her. She was smiling, and even though her hair was tossled, a mess, she looked so beautiful, and innocent. However, when she looked at me, her smile faltered, she frowned. I gave her a warning look, telling her not to question it, I might tell her later.

"Mom and dad are already up." She said.

"Okay," I stood up and smiled for real. "Faye, you might want to brush your hair real quick."

She glanced in the mirror that was hanging on my wall and made a face. A hand gesture towards my hair brush and I tossed it to her, waiting just outside of my door for her so that we could head out to the presents together. Our parents were already out there, sitting on the couch with cups of coffee; I sat down on the chair, as it has always been, and Faye sorted out the presents before taking her place on the floor, her back against the TV. As it has been since I was around eight or nine, Faye opened her present first; we went in a circle, youngest to oldest, opening one present at a time.

My parents, or Santa, gave me a good haul this year. A new iPod, earrings, money and a journal. From my sister I got a pair of purple converse that I remember admiring when we went shopping before I ever even went to Maryland.

"Faye Andrea, how did you get the money to buy me these?" I asked her.

"I saved up for about six months." She said mildly. "How did you get me the money to buy me this bracelet?"

"Touché!" I grinned. The bracelet in question was silver in color, a charm bracelet, with six little charms on it, spelling out FAYE!.

While Faye and I fawned over our gifts and my mother went to go take a shower, my dad started to cook the annual Christmas breakfast, complete with fakin' bacon, eggs, waffles, and sausage. Breakfast was served right as my mother came out of bathroom, fully dressed and ready for the day. Graciously we all helped ourselves to the food, and I steered clear away from the sausage, giving my dad a playful look as he took a bite. He just winked at me.

"So do you like your gifts, girls?"

"Yeah." We said in unison.

"What was your favorite gift?"

"The iPod." I said.

"The camera." My sister said.

After breakfast, I took a shower, and whilst the water was running I let my tears flow freely. When I got out and went back to my room, to put all my music onto my new iPod, I noticed that my phone had been moved, picking it up I saw that I had six new messages; all text.

Merry Christmas, babe, see you tomorrow to exchange?- Cheyenne

Merry Xmas Addison Sophie! Call me later!- Jack

Happy Xmas Ad, what did you get?- Brie

Merry Christmas Addie.- Rian

Merry Christmas!!! You should tell me what you got me ;]- Kara

Merry Christmas, call me, we need to talk.- Alex

I cried, and cried, the one message that counted the most wasn't going to come; I knew it. My music was covering up the sounds of my quiet sobs but even so I tried my hardest to stop. I hadn't really expected him to call or text, but the reality had hit me hard, so here I sat, on Christmas Day, bawling my eyes out. Normally I don't lock my door, but I made an exception for now; which was good because, someone just tried to come in without knocking. Hurriedly, I wiped away my tears, put on a smile, and opened the door.

"What did you need, mom?"

"Oh, I just wanted to know if you wanted to," she stopped. "Have you been crying?"

"Yeah, but it's totally fine. I just stubbed my toe really bad." I lied. "What did you want?"

"Honey, you're such a klutz sometimes. Want to help me back a pie?"

"Sure, apple?"

"Isn't it always?"

I smiled softly and stepped out of my room, following my mom into the kitchen. Faye was in the living room with our dad, she was taking various pictures, one of her, one of dad, the tree, a true smile on her face as my dad reached out and began to tickle her. Over her shrieks and squeals, my dad's booming laugh, and my mother's exasperated sigh, I didn't hear my phone start to ring. It wasn;t until later, after dinner, did I find a missed call. My phone was beeping incessantly when I walked in, and when I picked it up, my eyes couldn't believe what I was reading; 1 missed call, Zack.

My thumb lingered over the send button, getting ready to call him back; it was nine thirty over there. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wanted to, so badly, but something was stopping me; maybe I just couldn't bare to hear his voice right now. Sighing I threw my phone back on the bed and laid down next to it, sighing confusedly. I remembered that I was supposed to call Alex back, but I wasn't sure if I could call him back and not call back Zack. For the rest of the night, I didn't pick up my phone again.

Faye came into my room around eight, with her camera, surprising me, as the flash went off. She explained she wanted a picture of me on Christmas, but didn't want it to be fake. Faye was the only one that caught on about me not being myself for Christmas this year. It bummed her out, I can tell, but I told her that tomorrow, just me and her were going to go out for after Christmas sales, and we're going to talk and find her someone cooler than Tommy. Her smile lit up my whole room when I told her this, and she nodded her head when I told her that on our way out, we had to go to Cheyenne's so I could give her her present. My sister is one of the most understanding people I know and I didn't want to corrupt her, but I knew that tomorrow she might get the story out of me. She would be able to understand, but I don't want her to be disappointed in me.