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To Love A Friend

Page 12

by Jana David

Allie

  The Christmas spirit had definitely gotten a hold of campus. There were Christmas decorations everywhere, and people were looking forward to getting a break from school.

  I had hung some twinkly lights in my room, ones with little snowflakes on them, and was excited for the holidays.

  Until I got the phone call.

  “Hey, little mermaid”, my father greeted me. “How are you doing?”

  I was happy to tell him all about our Christmas tree adventure, steering clear of any school-related topics. He listened, but I got the feeling he wasn't really listening.

  “What's wrong, dad?” I finally asked, when all he did was just agree to whatever I was saying.

  “Maybe it would be better if you didn't come home for the holidays this year.”

  I paused for a moment.

  “I'm so sorry, sweetheart”, he said. “It's just that...it won't be very much fun anyway, with just the two of us.”

  I didn't know what to say. I'd known it would be a modest Christmas with just the two of us, but that would've been fine with me.

  “I can still come, dad. We can still have a wonderful Christmas.”

  “I don't think so, sweetheart. I'm not feeling very festive this year”, dad said.

  “So you just want to sit at home, all alone?”

  “Yes. But don't feel sorry for me or get any crazy ideas to surprise me or anything like that. I need this week alone. I think it will be good for me. Do you understand?” I didn't, but it seemed like he'd made up his mind.

  “I hope I'm not ruining Christmas for you now. “

  “No, it's alright”, I hurried to say.

  There was a short pause on the line.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Really, dad, don't worry about me”, I pressed.

  “Okay.” He sounded tired. Just so very tired. “You'll be fine though, right? You'll spend the holidays with Ian's family?”

  “Sure.” I didn't tell him that that was the last thing I wanted to do.

  “Say hi to mum from me.” I added. Maybe she would be in a mood to care, maybe not.

  “Will do, sweetheart. Talk to you soon.”

  As I hung up the phone, I let out a sigh that was more frustrated than disappointed. I was used to it and had long ago learned never to get too excited where plans with my family were concerned, but to cancel Christmas completely...

  The holidays in our house wouldn't be very festive this year, my father was right. I knew he was trying to protect me from all the drama so that I could live my life and focus on myself rather than them, but being kept out of the loop didn't stop me from worrying.

  Now I had to figure out what to do this Christmas. I did think about calling Ian. He had offered for me to join his family for Christmas anyway.

  I just didn't feel like it. I'd done it last year, spent Christmas with Ian's family. And all it had done was just make me resent my own family even more. Ian's family was perfect. And while I loved the atmosphere, while I loved the warm, fuzzy feeling, I also hated it.

  So instead of calling him and asking if I could join him and his family last-minute, I lied to him.

  When Ian asked about my plans to go home, I told him everything was going to be fine and to stop worrying about me and start getting excited about skiing in France.

  When my father called again a few days later, I told him everything was taken care of and Ian's family was excited to have me come along. He asked if I needed anything. I told him, no, everything was fine. And it was. I had a plan.

  I knew all three of the boys were gone for the holiday. Ian was in the French Alps, Sam had gone home to Manchester, and Darcy was spending Christmas at his father's house. He didn't seem too excited about that, but his father had insisted on some father-son bonding time. It worked out perfectly for me. So I packed my bags and headed out.

  There was a spare key hidden away under a flower pot in the shed out in the back garden. Darcy had shown it to me a couple of weeks ago, in case I ever needed to get into the house when neither of them was at home.

  It felt like I was breaking in—which, technically, I was. But I pushed that thought aside. No one was ever going to find out about me being here. They were all gone over the holidays.

  As I opened the door, I looked over my shoulder, conscious that one of the neighbours might see me and report me. I knew it was silly, but I couldn't help it.

  The house was clean and tidy as ever, and also completely silent. I relished the peace and quiet.

  After dumping all my things in Ian's room, I went to the shops and bought a ton of Christmas sweets, which could've probably fed ten children for an entire year, and basically got high on sugar. Who cared about healthy greens and fruit? It was Christmas. I turned up the volume on the radio and sang along to every song they played, while dancing through the whole house.

  I had a blast for two days and even got a good amount of schoolwork done. Then came Christmas Eve, and suddenly, the peace and quiet didn't seem so appealing any more.

  I spent the morning watching silly children's cartoons on my laptop in an attempt to cheer me up—which didn't work and was a total waste of my time. Then I decided to go for a walk on the beach, but it was freezing cold and it made me miss Ian, so I abandoned that idea.

  Back at the house, I finally gave up, simply lay down on Ian's bed and watched the clock change minute after minute.

  A thought crossed my mind. Blame it on total boredom or too much sugar, but I decided to pay the room next door a visit. I had only been in there on two occasions, and both times I had merely stuck my head in to ask Darcy if he wanted to eat dinner with us or come with us to the cinema.

  I had never actually taken the time to properly look around. Now I was presented with the perfect opportunity, and I wasn't going to let it pass.

  I opened his door, and was immediately surrounded by his scent. It reminded me of a forest in the spring.

  Darcy's room was neat and tidy, just like the rest of the house. I suspected he did all the main cleaning here, because Ian certainly didn't.

  Only the desk was full of clutter. Paper strewn about, books stacked on top of each other. He was in the middle of writing a few papers for his classes. I'd talked to him about that. As I looked around some more, I noticed little things here and there that were familiar. He still had an extensive music collection, both vinyl and CD—I mean,who still owned CD's these days? But then again, his car did still have a cassette player installed, so...

  A record player sat in the corner. I remembered how the two of us would often sit in front of his grandmother's old record player, listening to her vast music collection. As I flipped through the collection on the shelves, I found many of the old records we used to listen to. He must have kept them all after his nan died.

  I got so lost in the music, I lost track of time.

  My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I needed to start thinking about dinner.

  At first I considered simply eating a pizza from the freezer, but then I changed my mind and decided to cook a full meal instead.

  I had to hurry up to get to the shops before they closed, but in the end I came home with two full bags of food, and felt rather proud of myself for deciding to do a proper Christmas, even though it was just me. My mood had considerably brightened from this afternoon.

  I set all the shopping bags down on the kitchen counter, and then I went to Darcy's room, unplugged his record player and set it up in the living room. I'd found a record with Christmas music, so I put it on.

  The Christmas tree was still proudly standing in the corner. I plugged in the lights and watched them twinkle for a moment. A giddy smile spread over my lips. It was funny how things played out sometimes. A few days ago, I'd been convinced my Christmas was going to be the worst one I'd ever had this year, but maybe I could learn something from my father. Being alone and celebrating alone didn't have to be sad and depressing. I went over to the kitchen and started unpacking the groceries.
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br />   I was humming along to an old Andy Williams song, already halfway through the bottle of wine I'd brought, when I heard the telltale click of the lock. And then the front door opened.

  It was one of those moments where you desperately wish to have an invisibility cloak.

  I froze, the song still happily playing in the background, and I waited.

  Maybe, it was Ian. God, I hoped it was Ian. He at least wouldn't think I was crazy or out to steal every single item in the house that I could move.

  Slow steps sounded from the entryway. They were heavy. Definitely male.

  Then he jumped―yes, actually jumped—out into the doorway, and I let out a somewhat surprised, high-pitched shriek.

  He seemed equally surprised to see me there.

  “Allie?! Fuck, I thought you were a burglar or something.” Darcy stood there, dressed in a fine suit, his tie loosened around his neck and his hair rather dishevelled. He relaxed at the sight of me, dropping his ninja-style stance, leaned against the door frame and a slow, lazy smile began spreading on his lips. “What on earth are you doing here?” he asked. He didn't sound angry or annoyed, merely curious. As if it wasn't totally inappropriate for me to just show up in his house. On Christmas Eve of all days.

  “I...” I had absolutely no idea what to say.

  “It smells amazing in here. What are you making?” Darcy came closer, eyeing the pots and pans on the stove.

  I stepped aside, letting him pass, wondering if he was going to kick me out in a minute.

  “I'm sorry”, I started, “I know it is way out of line for me to just show up here unannounced, while nobody's home, and—“

  He didn't let me finish. “Well, I'd really like to know how you ended up in my house on Christmas, but I'm not going to pry. I guess it's partly my fault for showing you where the spare key was hidden.” He turned to me and smiled. “Now, I'm kind of hungry. There isn't enough food for two here by any chance, is there?”

  I could do nothing but stare at him. How was he so okay with me breaking into his house? He should be furious. He should at least be asking some questions regarding my sanity. Instead, Darcy picked up the wine bottle, checked its content and then went to get himself a glass out of the cupboard.

  “You can tell me to leave, if you want”, I said, eyeing him cautiously.

  He filled his wine glass to the brim. “I'm not Mr. Scrooge”, Darcy said. “As long as you don't mind my company, you're welcome to stay. Now, am I invited for dinner or not?”

  There was a certain kind of tension running just beneath the surface of his relaxed exterior, and I watched with furrowed brows, as he gulped his wine down like a man dying of thirst. If he was here on Christmas Eve, there had to be a story there, but I wasn't going to pry either.

  Instead I said, “There is plenty of food. Probably even too much for the two of us. I made chicken—you like chicken, right? And then I'm just going to roast some veggies to go along with it.”

  He nodded. “Can I help with anything?”

  His wine glass was now empty.

  I handed him a knife.

  “You can peel and cut potatoes, if you want.”

  He'd already started before I could even finish the sentence. We stood there, side by side, working silently for a while. The music was still playing in the background, but I wasn't in the mood to sing along any more. I wondered why he was here, but since he hadn't demanded for me to explain myself, I wasn't about to ask it of him.

  For the first time since he'd shown up here, I became aware of what that meant. I'd thought he was going to kick me out, but now it seemed like we were keeping each other company. It meant we would have dinner together. And after that? Was he going to stay? Would he let me stay?

  Suddenly, I was acutely aware of his presence next to me. His arm was so close to mine, that we brushed against each other on occasion. Each time that happened, I felt tiny electric sparks pass between us. I needed to get a grip, but the alcohol in my system was working against me.

  All these feelings I had tried so hard to keep buried six feet under, were suddenly right there at the forefront of my mind.

  “Should I put this in the oven now?” Darcy asked, holding up the tray with the vegetables on it. I'd been so lost in thought, his voice made me jump a little.

  “Yeah, put it in the oven. Then we can set the timer, and I guess that's that. We only have to wait for things to be done now.”

  “Okay.”

  “Great.” Why did I have to sound so awkward all of a sudden?

  Everything was cooking away, we had the timer set for another half hour, and now we were truly out of things to keep us occupied.

  Darcy had taken off his suit jacket and tie and laid them out on the sofa. He walked into the living room, his empty wine glass in hand, and came to stand by the window. He looked out into the black night as if there was something there that held his attention.

  I tried to delay going after him, and instead tried to find little things in the kitchen to do.

  “So, why aren't you at home, spending Christmas with your family?” Darcy suddenly asked without turning to face me.

  I honestly didn't quite know how to answer that question.

  “Something came up. My family will celebrate Christmas in the new year.”

  It was a lie, but I hadn't told anyone that my mother was in the hospital again. Not even Ian. I didn't want him to worry. Not over the holidays.

  “Why are you here and not with your family?” I asked.

  He traced the rim of his empty glass slowly with one finger. “Same, I guess. Something came up. My family isn't too big on the whole 'celebrating the birth of Christ' thing anyway.”

  I had a feeling he wasn't telling the whole truth either.

  “What about Ian? Does he know you were going to spend Christmas alone? I'm sure he would've taken you to France with him. Did you tell him?”

  “No.”

  He turned around then. “So he doesn't know you're here?”

  “I told him I was spending Christmas with my family.” I slowly said. Which had been the original plan.

  “But something came up”, Darcy finished the sentence for me.

  “Something came up”, I agreed.

  He nodded, and we fell silent again.

 

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