"Yes Mom," I sigh, placing a firm grip on my luggage handle as I tugged it onto the escalator to go downstairs. I needed a ride and I needed it fast because I couldn't handle a ride home from my own mother. Not at this time of the year.

"Honey, I just think you should plan to spend more time—"

My phone beeped.

Hallelujah. Anyone. Someone, please interrupt her.

"Mom, I've gotta go, someone is on the other line," I quickly said as I ended her call to accept the new one.

"Ahhh!!" she screamed. Lissa.

Pulling back from my phone, I winced. "Jeez Liss, calm down," I grumbled as I stepped onto the concrete outside.

"I'm so excited to be home!" she yelled into the phone. "Where are you?!"

Pulling my luggage to a stop, I slid my backpack off of my shoulders and on top of my suitcase to give my poor back a break.

"I'm still at the airport, praying to God someone other than Mom is picking me up from here," I sighed, rubbing my eyes. I was exhausted. Weather had really screwed up my flights and somehow my flight was redirected to LA for a night before a flight could manage to get me home. I haven't slept in two days. Stupid snow. Stupid fear of sleeping in an airport.

"Oh uh," she paused.

"Tell me," I instantly said. "Whatever it is you're hiding, you might as well prepare me for whatever it is I'm about to be pissed at."

"Oh you won't be pissed, I can promise you that much," she paused.

I sighed. I don't even care at this point, all I wanted was my bed, preferably my bed in a house other than my own. Mom during the holidays was a sight to see, well, more like an experience to avoid at all costs. Last year I had to dress up as an elf, not even a cute one either, for one of her ridiculous  parties she hosts. What makes this year even worse...Gerald.

"Just tell me Lissa," I said with defeat.

"Well, er..." she paused. "Jared kind of sent Jesse."

My heart stopped.

"Please tell me you're joking," I said slowly, silently begging her to tell me she was joking. She was right, I wouldn't be pissed...I was scared to death to see him.

Two months after the surf compeition in Florida, he was back together with Cheeto. It was completely and utterly earth shattering. I had to unfollow him on social media because it hurt too bad to see their relationship. At first I wondered if he did it out of spite toward me, but over time it seemed he was actually happy. That's when I had to unfollow him because seeing him happy with her was just unbearable.

It was hard to get to the place I'm in now, to not hear about him and feel so emotional I could burst. The pills helped too.

Yes, I finally broke down and took the anxiety meds they prescribed me. Had I known how much they would helped, I would have taken them a lot sooner. I didn't even realize how bad I was until the constant anxiety began to subside. They weren't even fully kicking in yet and this was the best I had felt mentally in years.

Jared was much happier with me now that he knew I was on them. Actually, everyone was, annoyingly enough. I was still slightly bitter that I wasn't strong enough without them.

A car honked from behind me and when I turned around...there he was. Opening the car door, he strode toward me on the sidewalk, to pick up my bags I was sure.

"Shit Liss, he's here I have to go," I urgently said.

Shit, I could have looked better. Stupid snow. I clearly look like I haven't slept in two days. Or showered. Mentally slapping myself, I grabbed my backpack to haul it over my shoulders and start walking toward him with my suitcase in tow.

He smiled with ease as he reached for my bags. His eyes still the same amazing hazel color, but his hair was shorter than usual.

"It's fine, they're not heavy," I said, refusing to remove my hand from the handle.

He raised his hands and then stuffed them into the pockets of his jeans. Completing a quick once over, I evaluated his outfit and raised my eyebrows. He was wearing an LA dodgers hoodie. Seems he's turning West Coast on us.

We walked in silence back to his jeep. He opened up the back, this time forcing me to let go of my bags so he could place them in the back.

I was heading for the passenger door when he beat me to it, opening it for me. Staring at him, I wondered why he was being nice to me.

"What?" he asked. Being the first word spoken between the two of us, something in my heart constricted at the sound of his voice. I missed it.

I gave him a tight lipped smile before hopping into the jeep. He shut the door and jogged around the front to his side.

I breathed out a shaky breath. I could do this.

He hopped in and flipped the blinker on while turning the wheel at the same time as he buckled his seatbelt.

He sniffed slightly and began driving. The silence was eery, something so out of place between the two of us. Maybe it was true, maybe the Jesse and Alice everyone knew had finally run its course, ending with nothing but a pit of silence left for us to be pulled into whenever we were together again.

Facing outside, I leaned my head against the window, the feeling of sleep deprivation finally settling it.

"Your mom has been hounding me about her party," he finally said.

Not looking at him, I shrugged. "You learn to ignore it," I mumbled, my eyes heavy and my heart willing itself to keep it together.

"The theme this year is the Grinch," he pointed out.

At that, my eyes opened back up. "How fitting," I said in a flat voice. If she makes me tie my hair up around a small plastic cup to achieve the Cindy Lou-Hou look, I might actually explode. Suddenly I wondered how Jesse knew more about my Mom's life than I did.

Probably because you barely speak to her.

I rolled my eyes at myself.

"She got Jared to be the Grinch," he said, surely attempting at conversation, but I wasn't biting. However, the thought of Jared being the Grinch was enough to almost make me smile. Almost.

Jared and I have kept in touch, skyping at least once a week, playing the guitar together, writing songs together, talking about everything and nothing all at once. We were the Dessen siblings, fearless and strong as ever before. Well, when we weren't fighting about my mental health. I was actually very excited to see him again.

"How's Lauren?" I asked, realizing it was both inappropriate and a total conversation killer, but I couldn't help it. I had to know.

I noticed his hand tighten around the wheel ever so slightly out of the corner of my eye and the fact that I could still get a reaction like that out of him made me feel elated on the inside.

"Good," he said matter-of-factly, clearly wanting to avoid the conversation I was obviously baiting him into.

"Do you love her?" I blurt, lifting my head quickly to face him. I was both stunned and unafraid at the fact that I just asked that question.

Damn, these pills were good. They made me brave. Okay, well maybe not brave, but they pushed the fear and pain aside.

He blinked in surprise and glanced at me as if he couldn't believe I just asked that so bluntly.

"What the fuck Alice?" he responded. I cringed at the word and he knew I would. It was written all over his face, he did that on purpose to really drive his shock home.

"Do you?" I repeated. I needed to know. I needed to let this stupid feeling go, whatever it was inside of me.

"It's none of your business to be honest," he quipped. His hand was practically squeezing the life out of the steering wheel and I couldn't decide if that was a good sign or not...mostly because I had no idea what I was hoping to hear.

Turning away, I sighed.

"Fuck Dess, I was really hoping to have a pleasant drive back to your place," he said angrily. I cringed once again at his foul language and refused to turn back toward him.

"Probably shouldn't have picked me up then," I murmured.

"So you traded in the poor pitiful me act for the bitch huh?" he shot at me with a short laugh.

While I've come a long way since last summer with healing and all, that still stung. He went too far and my silence made him realize that.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "That was--"

"Don't apologize for something you mean," I said harshly, giving him exactly what he was wanting.

We remained in silence the rest of the ride, nothing but the sound of soft Christmas music playing in the background. He hated Christmas music and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why he had it playing in his jeep. What I despised even more was my immense love for the music and how it was cheering me up, despite my efforts to remain in a foul mood.

When we pulled into the driveway of my home, I couldn't open the door fast enough. I practically ripped my bags out of his jeep and took the steps two at a time, somehow finding a physical strength I never knew I had.

Bursting through the door, I was met with an explosion of Christmas decorations. Bright red and green lollipops and presents looked like it had thrown up on the walls and someone decided to slap a bow onto it.

Jesse, for whatever reason, decided to allow himself in and didn't see me frozen in place in the hallway. He ran right into me, nearly making me topple over on top of my bags.

"Sorry," he quickly apologized before his eyes met what mine had already been traumatized by. "Whoa."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Alice?" My brother called from the living room. I heard him push out of the leather chair and his footsteps hurried my way. I dropped my last bag and ran the rest of the way toward him. He scooped me into his arms, giving me a giant brotherly bear hug as he whispered, "You look better."

I ignored his comment, not wanting Jesse to know.

"Where are they?" I asked begrudgingly.

"Who knows," he shrugged. Stepping around me, he slapped Jesse on the shoulder with a smile and thanked him for picking me up.

Jesse didn't respond, but he glanced up at me, quickly looking away after noticing I caught him staring.

"Hey Al, grab a guitar, I need help figuring out the rest of this song," Jared ordered, hurrying back into the living room.

Thankfully, my fear of playing in front of people quickly dissipated and soon became my comfort. As long as I had an instrument in front of me, the world was okay. I followed after him, grabbing a guitar off of the wall, a pick ready for me to use, tucked away in the strings.

Jesse didn't follow us, but I heard him shuffle into the kitchen to grab some food.

While Jared was working on his lyrics I was messing around, picking at my strings. This was home to me, my fingers resting on strings, the weight of the guitar resting in my lap, distracting me from the weight of the world, lessening it. After tuning it, I began playing around with some melodies until I found myself accidentally playing a Christmas song.

"It ain't event cold outside, not where I'm from," I sang quietly. Jared remained zeroed in on his work. We were accustomed to playing around each other at this point, making it easy to ignore.

I moved my fingers. "Feeling like it's mid-July, under the sun," I continued. "My jacket don't get no love, my hat, no gloves, not even a chance of rain."

"Are you singing Ariana Grande right now?" Jared lifted his his head up, pencil in hand, clearly mid-sentence. My fingers continued their second nature work while I stared at him.

"Yep," I popped the p.

He shook his head, but smiled before getting back to work.

"Heyy oh, I wanna pretend we're at the North Pole, turning the heat into an ice cold holiday," I sang again quietly, listening to Jesse's heavy footsteps fall behind me before coming into view.

I met his eyes. "Made just for me and my baby," I sang almost at a whisper before allowing my hands to fall.

"Do you play a lot now?" he wondered, his curiosity written in his eyes while he rolled a water bottle back and forth between each of his hands.

At that Jared dropped his pencil. "Dude, she plays constantly now, where have you been?"

Jesse looked at Jared for a moment before resting his confused eyes on me. I could see a hint of hurt in them.

"Guess I've been a little out of the loop lately," he finally said.

Jared scoffed. "S'cuz you have your head up Cheeto's ass."

I snorted, both at his comment and the hilarious nickname. My heart barely reacted. This was good. This was progress. Laughter, not tears. Jesse scowled and threw his bottle at Jared. Jared and I never talked about Jesse. In fact, I would hedge my bets on him being absolutely clueless about Jesse and I's real falling out. I know I certainly never brought it up and I would be very surprised if Jesse ever said anything.

Standing with the guitar in my hand, I grabbed the pick and started walking upstairs.

"Hey!" Jared called. "Where are you going? I need help."

I shrugged him off. "Come get me when you're done with the lyrics."

In other words, get me out of here while I'm still okay. I held my breath until I made it up the stairs. Turning the corner, I leaned against the wall and let out a breath.

Suddenly, Brooke's advice popped in my head.

"You be angry at him, be hurt. You can even blame him, but if you're going to blame him for the hurt, blame him for the good too."

I wanted to slap her when she said it, but over time it made sense. Jesse was the reason I even came out of my shell. He challenged me. Jesse made me realize life could still have joy even if he ended up being the person to cause so much pain.

Brooke was a rock throughout this entire process and Brayden remained slightly confused as to why I was suddenly a mess. Brooke didn't know much other than the fact that a guy broke my heart. She forced me to come home for Christmas despite all my best efforts to tag along with her back to her home.

Brooke was fierce. She was blunt, but she was there and she wouldn't allow me to stay where I was. She met me in the valley, but she wouldn't let me camp there.

A smile played on my lips. I walked through my room and ran my hand across the bed post on my way to the balcony.

It was moments like this the story began to flow. Adam and I had been working on me opening up about my life and slowly, the words came. After a few weeks, it became therapeutic.

I sat in my chair and closed my eyes, feeling the weight of the guitar on my lap. Nothing but the sound of the waves and my own heartbeat. Yes. This was better.

Pulling out my phone, I opened my notes and began writing.

................
Jesse's POV

Watching her leave, my heart grew heavy under the weight of our broken relationship, whatever kind of relationship we were these days. Truth was, I missed her. It was an internal war not to call her, not to text her when some our our kids from camp come into the shack and ask about her, not to Snapchat her hilarious people at our grocery store.

I missed her. I hated that I missed her because she chose him and left me. I didn't even care if she chose me, but the fact that she chose him just killed me.

Then Lauren came back into the picture and she stayed this time. Sure, in the beginning it wasn't serious. I didn't trust her, but over the months it became comfortable.

Comfortable. When did I become the guy who settled for comfort?

I told Jared I was leaving and he waved me off without a parting glance. Stepping out front, I was half way to my jeep when curiosity got the best of me.

Why would she ask if I loved Lauren? Did she still care? She must if she asked something as ridiculous as that.

Of course, she knew I didn't. She knows me well enough to recognize when I'm settling into a groove, not living.

Carefully stepping through their shrubs, I made my way to the beach front and hid underneath the balcony. I was right, she still goes to her deck to play. She loves watching the waves while she plays absentmindedly.

She was picking at the strings sofly and would stop momentarily every now and then. Switching notes and picking patterns every now and then, she finally seemed to find something she liked.

With perfect rhythm, she picked at her strings before her voice carried beautifully down to me. She wasn't trying hard, almost as if she were testing the words out on her tongue for the first time, but it was clear she had been working on it for awhile.

"Sometimes I'm my fathers daughter, sometimes I'm his friend, sometimes I play grown up and sometimes I play pretend," she sang softly and sighed. "Story my ass," she grumbled.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in the sand listening to her, the same smile she always seemed to give me resting on my lips.

"Dumb enough to think I know it all, smart enough to know I don't," she sang, barely audible.

Hearing her was enough. Enough to make my final decision, one I've known I would have to face eventually. With the absence of Alice, I was able to successfully avoid it for months, but her voice was like a drug to me. It was both inspiring and magnetic, a light that always drew me in closer.

I rubbed my face with my hands and sighed, not prepared to face things, not prepared to apologize to Alice and that idiot Adam. Not prepared to face what I did.

To say I was shocked when I never heard of them starting anything was an understatement. I mean she chose him so why didn't she date him? She was with him all the time. He was in Texas with her all the time. Her picture was plastered to magazine covers for months, leaving me feeling a little bit better about my decision, but then they became less and less until I stopped hearing about them.

She didn't come home for Thanksgiving, the first time since I'd known her. I'm not sure what I was hoping for during that break, I realize I had a girlfriend, but I needed to talk to her.

So one night I sent her a text, I wanted to apologize. I only sent one thing, Hey. Yeah, not my best game, but we were so far from each other, both figuratively and literally, I figured starting small was best. Hours passed, then a day, then several days, I finally stopped waiting for her response.

She seemed happy from what I saw in pictures. She seemed like she was thriving.

Her voice brought me out of my thoughts and her words made me smile.

"I hate Shakespeare and gosling and cakes with white frosting, two names in a heart shaped tattoo, I think Cupid is stupid and violets are purple, not blue," I almost laughed.

"I hate love songs, yeah I really do, I hate love songs, but I love you," she tapered off at the last verse.

Something in the way she sang I love you made me curious. She said it like she was thinking of someone. Was it him? Was it the rockstar? Did she meet another guy in Texas?

...did I want it to be me?

I had to know...was I with the wrong girl? I knew I already knew the answer, but I wasn't ready to face the circumstances of that answer. That I was with the wrong girl and the right girl may never want me.

Lauren, though, was good. We were good. And why ruin a good thing?

"Fuck," I whispered.