16 | White Christmas

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Stephanie showed up on my doorstep on Sunday afternoon with a bag full of sandwiches, ice cream, and chips. She even bought me a milkshake to top off her formal I-hope-you-feel-better-after-Thomas-punched-you-in-the-gut gift. Despite the fact that my cut was minor and nothing else hurt, I accepted the gifts with open arms because, well, it was free food.

We settled on my living room couch and draped blankets over ourselves before we began searching for movies. When I finally decided on some Disney movie, I tossed the remote to the end of the couch and began unwrapping my sandwich. My mouth was practically watering as I smelt the famous BLT from the sandwich shop downtown.

"So," Stephanie says in between bites. "What happened when I left on Friday?"

The mouth is halfway raised to my mouth as I narrow my eyes at her and remember her suspicious attitude when she bailed. "Why did you leave so easily?"

She looks hardly bothered that I didn't answer her question as a smug smirk appears on her lips. "Because," Stephanie starts in a mocking voice, "I knew you would rather Nathan take care of you than me."

And then she winked at me for good measure.

My jaw dropped and I lowered the sandwich from my mouth to glare at her. "What are you talking about?"

Stephanie just rolls her eyes at my coy behavior. "Don't act like you don't know. You and the bad boy clearly have something going on. He was livid when I told him that you were in trouble."

"He was pissed because he told me not to come," I point out and successfully ignore everything else.

She shakes her head at me. "It wasn't that kind of angry. He was worried about you. You should've seen his face when he saw Thomas kiss you. I thought for sure that he was going to rip his head off."

This time, I shake my head, but couldn't yet form a coherent response. I felt a weird feeling in my chest, like it as fluttering, and I didn't understand why. Why did I care so much to know that Nathan cared about me? As I'm trying to figure out my own feelings, Stephanie's smirk returns, as did her classic I-told-you-so attitude.

"There's nothing going on between us," I tell her slowly. "We're just friends."

She raises her eyebrows suspiciously at me. "You mean, you guys aren't hooking up yet?"

Yet? "No. We're just friends," I repeat.

"Huh," Stephanie ponders this with a thoughtful look on her face for a moment before she gives me an odd look. "Nathan Rhodes doesn't have-"

"-girls as friends, just girls he hooks up with." I quote her words from a previous phone call we had and give her a pointed look. "I'm aware. But we're-"

"Just friends," Stephanie quotes me this time with a little smirk.

I give her a wry smile. "Exactly."

She reaches for the ice cream carton on the coffee table in front of us as she smiles secretively at me. "We'll see how long this 'friends' thing lasts."

My cheeks flush at her insinuation and I just avert my gaze from her to the TV in an attempt to ignore her words. I finally begin eating my sandwich, half because I was hungry and half because I wanted to busy myself so Stephanie couldn't continue the conversation. But of course, this was Stephanie: she wouldn't stop when she still had more to say.

"You like him, don't you?" I can practically hear the smugness in her voice as she nudges me on the shoulder.

I almost choke on my sandwich from the sudden inquiry, and it takes me a good two minutes of chewing while Stephanie laughs at me before I can answer. I feel my heart skip a beat when I think about the question, and for some reason, I can picture Nathan's face as clear as day in my mind. But before I can think too much about it, I shake my head.

"No, Steph," I groan. "How many times do I have to say it? We're just friends."

Stephanie's laughter dies down as she stares at me and I can almost immediately tell that she's psychoanalyzing me with her newfound sociology and psychology skills. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and refuse to meet her eye, and apparently that's all she needs to draw a conclusion.

"I think you're lying," Stephanie concedes quickly. "Or you just don't know it yet. But trust me, L, I'm good at these kinds of things. I have a feeling about you two."

My face is probably beet red at this point as I think about her question more seriously this time. The butterflies when he's sweet to me, the interest I took in him, the way my heart flips in my chest every time he smiles at me. Could I actually like Nathan Rhodes?

I sigh heavily and lean back into the couch, the movie long forgotten and in the background. "I don't even know. But it doesn't matter, anyway. It's not like we would ever date."

Her previous smugness drops and turns into a frown. "Why not?"

"Not accounting for the fact that he doesn't have girlfriends," I give her a pointed look, considering that she's told me this herself. "His entire life is one big secret. I don't know anything about him and that's because he purposely keeps information from me. Besides, he doesn't even like me like that anyway." As an afterthought, I add, "And I don't even know if I like him like that."

"Doesn't like you like that?" Stephanie snorted. "For someone with straight A's, you really are dumb sometimes." 

I frown at her. "What do you mean?"

"Nathan Rhodes is infamous for sleeping with a girl and then leaving her behind," Steph says, and for some reason, her words bother me. "If he was going to use you, then he would've by now. This is the first time he's ever been friends with a girl."

I just shrug because I don't feel like talking about this anymore and Stephanie seems to get the hint. We finally shut up and spend the next few hours watching movies because it was too cold to go outside. Stephanie's break lined up with mine nicely, so we had practically all week to hang out, pig out, and watch movies. 

That is, until my mom came clamoring down the stairs after holing herself up in her office to write for hours. I reached over to the remote and paused our second movie to give her my full attention, and she took the reading glasses off of her nose as she smiled at us.

"I don't know if you two have gotten up in the past few hours," She teases. "But it's starting to snow outside. Apparently there's going to be a big storm."

Stephanie's eyes lit up just as I was sure mine did. "We're going to have a white Christmas!"

"We're going to be snowed in on Christmas," Mom corrects me and then gives Steph a smile. "Stephanie, honey, you better head home before the storm gets too bad. And Lauren, would you run to the store for me to grab a few things? If we're going to be stuck in the house all day tomorrow, we're going to need some more cookie mix."

Reluctantly, we both agree and turn the movie off to get up. Steph helped me clean our mess from the bags of food we managed to inhale before we walked out to our cars together. There were fat flurries of snow coming down lightly, just barely sticking onto the pavement, but it was promising enough to get me excited for a storm. I hugged Stephanie goodbye and hopped into my car with a list a mile long in my front pocket. 

The closest superstore was Walmart a few neighborhoods over so that's where I headed. There weren't many cars on the road- a rarity in the city- so I managed to get to Walmart in ten minutes even though I was going five miles under the speed limit. I hopped out of the car and ducked my head down as I trekked toward the front doors of the store with wind whipping my hair around. 

When I reached the front of the store, I finally looked up, and I noticed a looming figure leaning against the side of the store with a cloud of cigarette smoke surrounding him. As the smoke cleared and the person lifted their head, I noticed that it was Nathan. He lifted his hand and brought the cigarette to his lips again and took a long drag while looking bored and uninterested in the brewing storm around him.

I walk over to him with my face tucked into my scarf and hands in my pockets. "Nathan," I call to get his attention, and when I have it, I smile. "Hey."

He looks almost bothered by my smile and narrows his eyes at me. "What are you doing here?"

The coldness in his tone caught me off guard, but I still answered slowly, "I'm running errands for my mom. What are you doing here?"

He flicked the cigarette on the ground and looks back at me with a bored expression. "I was just leaving."

My smile drops and I frown at him. What was his problem? The last time we spoke, he had carried me back to his car to clean out the smallest cut ever on my forehead. And now he was acting like a cold, distant asshole as he took a step toward the liquor store beside Walmart. He stopped as Mike and Holden barreled out of the store holding two twenty four packs of beer and a paper bag.

Holden saw me first and smirks widely. "Lauren, it's great to see you."

"You're looking fine, as always," Mike comments with a cheeky wink. "Did you dress up just for me?"

I think about my sweater and scarf and momentarily what about this outfit seemed sexy to him, but bit my tongue when I was about to snap a retort. Instead, I just roll my eyes at them warily.

Holden holds up the bottle covered in a paper bag. "Do you want to come over to my place and join us? We have beer and a bottle of Jack, and I certainly don't mind sharing."

The smirk he added made me believe that he was talking about sharing something other than his drinks.

"She's busy," Nathan answers for me coldly. "Let's go."

I stood there in momentary shock as Mike and Holden winked at me before departing. Nathan, however, didn't even spare a last glance in my direction. As I robotically walk through the various aisles of the over crowded Walmart, I can't help but feel hurt by Nathan's cold attitude. Even though I know he can be an arrogant dick sometimes, I couldn't quite shake it off as quickly as normal. And that bothered me more.

. . .

The second my eyes opened on Christmas morning, a smile was already stretching on my lips. I threw back my covers and ran to my window to see a thick sheet of white snow covering the ground, roads, and cars outside. My window pane had frozen flurries stuck to it and mini snow mountains piled up in the corner. Stephanie was correct: we were having a white Christmas. I rushed to my bedroom door and swung it open, but heard two door hinges squeak.

When I stepped into the hallway, I looked to my left to see Luke grinning as well as he looked at me. With a nod of our heads, we ran to my moms bedroom and barged in to wake her up, only to find an empty bed. Something clattered downstairs and we raced down to the living room, where my mom waited with a cup of coffee in front of the Christmas tree. She grinned at us.

"Hurry up, I've been waiting all morning!" She teases.

Ever since Luke and I were younger, Christmas was our favorite holiday. We had sleepovers in my room on Christmas Eve and tried to stay up all night to watch Christmas movies. When we were younger, it was my favorite holiday because of all the presents. Now, it was my favorite because of all the spirit and excitement the holiday season brings.

Per our usual tradition, Luke and I sat in front of the Christmas tree gleefully and began separating everyone's presents into piles. When we were younger, we would separate the gifts into four piles, and my dads pile was always the biggest. We always got him the most presents- albeit cheap presents that cost two weeks of saved allowance- so his pile was stacked higher than ours.

But ever since the day he packed up and left, our Christmas tradition changed a bit. Christmas was the first major holiday after he left; the largest pile disappeared when he did. I was only ten years old but old enough to recognize that I needed to put on a fake smile and pretend like the pile thing didn't bother me, or that the fact he wasn't here didn't bother me either.

"Aw man, why does Lauren have the most gifts?" Luke complains, because he makes everything a competition.

My mom winks at him. "It's quality, not quantity."

He grins and looks at his smaller pile, and as he does, my mom looks at me and mouths "it's quantity". She joins us on the floor and we begin our tradition: everyone grabs one present from the pile, starting with my mom, and we open our gifts. A smile played at my lips all morning as I sat with my two favorite people.

After Luke tears open one particular gift, his eyes gleam at whatever is in the box. "Mom, is this real?"

She grins as he picks up a thin slick card. "I knew you two would like this gift."

My brow furrows. "What is it?"

"A gas card," my mom answers as I sit up and pluck it out of Luke's grasp to examine it. "Use it when you need gas and it charges to the card."

Luke takes it back and grins as he holds it up high. "What a beautiful day! Happy birthday, JC!"

I pout at my mom. "How come he gets one? He can't even drive yet!"

She rolls her eyes and reaches into my pile to produce a similarly wrapped gift. After placing the box in my hands, she says, "Don't worry, I didn't forget about Betsy."

My pout turns into a grin as I hug my mother happily. I didn't mind that we were literally stuck inside of our house, the snow piling up two feet against the front and back door. I only cared that I was here, with my family, and that even though my father had left, we were still complete. But no matter how sure I felt about that, there was still something missing inside me. Like a piece of my heart was keeping me from feeling complete. I got this feeling often. But of course, as I always did when I felt it, I just smiled and pushed it aside.

Between board games, hot chocolate, old movies, and new presents, I was hardly bored long enough to think back to my dad for the rest of the day. Luckily, my mom kept me entertained, even when Luke ditched us around two to play GTA in the basement. But eventually, she fell asleep on the couch and I trudged up to my room to try to do the same but in bed. Unfortunately, my plans were foiled. The second I fell back onto my plush comforter and shut my eyes is the second that my phone began ringing obnoxiously.

I groaned and answered the phone without opening my eyes. "Hello?"

"Merry Christmas!" A familiar voice chirps.

My mood lightened and I smile even though she can't see me. "Merry Christmas, Steph."

"How are you feeling?" She asks nonchalantly, but I know why she asks; holidays are a rough reminder of my broken family.

"I'm good," I dismiss her concern immediately. "How's being snowed in with Martha and Gary?"

"They're already drunk off egg nog," Stephanie sighs, discouraged, and I grin.

Martha and Gary were Stephanie's parents. They were more of the hippy-dippy type, and used to let Stephanie do whatever she wanted when we were in High School. Seriously, whatever she wanted. They even encouraged her to smoke weed, saying that it was a 'natural medication' that they preferred over real medicine. Martha was an artist and Gary was a teacher, both successful in their professions. They were also very, very entertaining.

I chuckle into the phone. "Tell them merry Christmas for me."

"Yeah I will," she mumbled and then sighed. "So, do you have a dress for New Years Eve yet?"

My smile fades momentarily. Amidst my day lounging at home, wearing my typical baggy sweatpants and tee shirt, I had forgotten about the mask I put on in public. I forgot about the uncomfortable clothes and attention, and the thought of returning to it wasn't very appealing at the moment.

 It's not like I felt forced into being someone I'm not: actually, I think that this whole experiment is helping me find myself. But I did feel weary of the constant stares and whispers... And, well, my sweats were a lot more comfortable than leather. So the thought of going to a party in something small and tight made me frown down at my sweatpants.

I'll miss you, sweatpants.

"Not yet," I finally mutter. "And I have a feeling you have something in mind."

Her voice was much cheerier than mine. "I found this dress in Cara's closet before I left school and it is to die for. Seriously, you're going to be irresistible in it!"

"You didn't just take it from her closet without asking, did you?" I ask her warily.

"No, she gave it to me," Stephanie assured. "She owes me from last time she wore my red dress and ripped the seam. Anyway, you have to wear this dress."

"Okay," I say, because I know that in the end I would be in the dress regardless if I put a fight up or not.

Steph squeals on the other side of the phone. "Great! I was talking to my friend Brian, who's throwing the New Years party, and he said all the frat guys and basketball players would be there." I knew this was supposed to excite me, but it didn't, so Stephanie adds: "That means plenty of hunky guys to kiss at midnight."

I smirk and decide it's time to tease her about a certain boy she seems to be fond of. "What about Justin?"

She hesitates. "What about him?"

"You two seemed pretty comfortable Friday night," I know that the smirk is evident in my voice because of the smugness of my tone.

"I could say the same about you and Nathan when you were in his arms." Steph shot back.

At the mention of his name, I thought of yesterday at Walmart and frowned. He had been an asshole for no reason, and even though I should expect that, it still made me angry. "Don't change the subject, it's not the same. Nathan means nothing to me."

She laughed and it makes my frown deepen. "Yeah right. I can feel the sexual tension all the way from school."

At the memory of yesterday, I snap, "Nathan Rhodes is an arrogant asshole, and thats that."

Sensing the finality in my tone, Stephanie let it go, and we got back on the subject of New Years. She explained all her options and I helped her narrow it down to one dress (I practically memorized her whole closet after years of her texting me photos of clothes) to wear that night. Eventually, I look over to my bedside clock and see that it's eleven at night, and that Christmas was almost over. Not only that, but my eyelids had grown heavy and my voice began trailing off, so Stephanie ordered me to sleep.

We hung up and I put my phone on the bedside table before crawling underneath my sheets to get cozy. Warmth and comfort enveloped me as I dropped my head on my pillow, but before I could close my eyes, I saw my phone light up from my nightstand. Lazily, I reached out and barely grabbed it, dragging my phone towards my body. And when I opened it and checked my messages, I was surprised to see that it had been Brett that texted me. I clicked the message and read over the words before a small smile reached my lips.

Brett: Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas!

I texted him back: Merry Christmas to you too, weirdo.

Brett: Did you get me a present?

Lauren: Nope, but I can give you an old candle or something if you really want a gift

Maybe it was my delirium from the fact I really wanted to go to sleep, but I texted most of the response with my eyes shut. He didn't text back for a few more minutes and I was almost passed out cold when I felt the phone vibrate.

Brett: But all I want for Christmas is your sexy ass baby ;)

I stared at the

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