To Love A Friend
Page 19
Ian
As predicted, we only put up a fake Christmas tree in the cabin. But that was okay with me, because I'd had the pleasure to enjoy a real one for the past two weeks. We hardly spent any time indoors anyway. The snow was fantastic at the moment, and everyone was determined to make the most of it, staying out on the slopes from morning till nightfall. Christmas day was probably the first day the whole family stayed at the cabin.
Everybody had gathered around the large wooden table in the centre of the living room, and it was as chaotic as one might imagine a family gathering of twenty people to be. Presents had been exchanged earlier in the day, and I couldn't complain. Right now, though, I was impatiently waiting for the Christmas feast to begin. It was official: I had reached the age where the magic of Christmas was fading and food became more important than the wish list sent to Santa (which I hadn't done in years anyway, but you get the idea).
My two cousins, Finn and Emil, twins, had quite a different view on the matter, though. They had to be carried to the table by their father, because they'd rather continue building their Lego castle than come and eat with us. I remembered being just as fascinated by my Christmas gifts when I was younger. Who needed food when they had a new race car track to play with, right?
Finally, the food arrived. It smelled heavenly. I loaded my plate up with as much food as would fit on it, setting a new personal record and earning a disapproving look from my mother.
Conversation at the table revolved around everything from where to go for Christmas next year, to planning dinner for New Year's. I mostly stayed quiet. I loved my family, don't get me wrong, but I missed having Al around—or generally anyone my age.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked if I had missed any calls or texts.
Still no word from Al.
When I tried calling her this morning, she didn't pick up the phone. I figured she was with her family, but when I tried again later and she still didn't pick up, I started to worry.
I'd left her yet another message right before we sat down to eat, asking her to call me back as soon as she could.
I wondered if she was mad at me or something. I could only remember one time when Allie had truly been mad at me.
I looked over at the little Lego castle on the floor. What was it about knights and princesses that fascinated little kids so much?
I'd been obsessed with it at that age, too. In fact, the day Allie got so mad at me she would end up not speaking to me for an entire week, that's exactly what we'd been playing.
We were ten, maybe eleven years old, and spending the afternoon at my house, literally turning the living room into a stage for a bloody knights tournament. Well, the blood was make-believe, but everything else was very much real. Darcy and I had even cut out breastplates from cardboard, and fastened them around our necks with string. Darcy's was painted black, with a silver arrow in the centre, while mine was gold with a unicorn in the middle—Allie's idea, not mine. Each of us had a broomstick in hand—with a cushion tied to the top, of course, so we wouldn't hurt each other while duelling, duh. So all in all, we were pretty well prepared.
Al sat in the corner, on a throne made from cushions and blankets, wearing a pretty dress and a crown that said 'Happy Birthday' on it. It was the only crown we could find.
My mother walked in the door, took one look at us and turned right back around, mumbling something about children being weird.
We had the whole thing planned out. There were going to be three rounds.
The winner would be rewarded the the beautiful princess. It was going to be a fight to the death, with no mercy for the loser.
As Darcy and I got ready for the first round, Al called me over to her 'throne', leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “You have to win. You're representing the good knight, the one who always gets the princess in the end. So it's really important that you win.” Her big, brown eyes widened as she stared at me as if she was trying to make it happen just by sheer power of will.
I didn't get why she was stressing it so much. Sure, I wanted to win. I wasn't going to let Darcy win just for him to remind me about it for weeks on end.
“Don't worry”, I told her, “I won't let him win.”
We got in position. Both of us were ready to do this.
“On your mark, honourable gentlemen”, Allie shouted. “Fight!”
We charged at one another, each with a determination that could only end in disaster.
We'd seen plenty of films where the heroes were knights. We knew what we were doing—or so we thought.
When Darcy swung his stick, I dodged it by jumping back, nearly knocking down one of my mother's flower pots. But I didn't have time to worry about that now. He came at me again, and this time we crossed swords. Okay, in our case it was sticks. We went back and forth for a while. He took a step forward, I moved one back. I took a step forward, he moved one back. Soon enough, though, I began to tire.
The cushions softened the blows, but I still found it hard to keep my grip on my makeshift sword. I found myself retreating further and further into a corner, and with every step I took backwards, the smile on Darcy's face grew.
“I've got you now”, he said when he had me backed up against the wall. We both knew I wasn't going to win this at that point.
And then he delivered his final death-blow.
I sank to my knees and clutched my chest for dramatic effect, while Darcy turned towards the invisible crowds and let them cheer him on.
“Milady.” Darcy proceeded to bow in front of Allie, who did not look happy at all. I walked over to stand beside him, facing the thrown, my 'sword' dragging on the ground, because I didn't have enough strength left in my arm to hold it upright.
“You were supposed to win!” Al suddenly shouted at me. “Now you ruined the entire thing!”She was really upset over it. I didn't get it.
“Hey, what's the matter, Princess? I swear, I'll build you the finest castle you've ever seen.” Darcy seemed slightly confused by Al's sudden outburst as well.
“You. Don't. Get. It.” She looked at both of us, as if she couldn't understand how we could be so stupid. “Ian was supposed to win the tournament. He's the knight in shining armour. He was supposed to win.”
“It's boring if you know who the winner is from the beginning.” Darcy took off his cardboard breastplate. “Why have Ian and me even fight if you've already decided who gets you in the end?”
“Yeah, it's not really your choice, Al”, I chose to agree with him, even though I knew it would only make her madder. “We fought fair and square, and rules are rules. You have to marry Darce now.”
“No, I don't! I want a do-over.” Her lip was quivering. She seemed at the verge of tears.
“Come on, Al. It's only a game”, I tried to console her.
“I hate you!” She spat at me. And then she roughly pulled the crown from her hair.
Our little game was over, and like I mentioned before, Allie would not speak to me for an entire week. Just because I'd lost a stupid knight's tournament.
“Ian, are you listening to me?” My mother's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see everyone's eyes on me.
“Sorry, what?” I asked. My dinner had gone cold by now.
“I asked if you spoke to Allie today.”
“No, mum. She's celebrating with her family. They probably just sat down to eat as well. I'll talk to her later.” If she answers her bloody phone, that is, I thought. But I didn't say that out loud.
It was almost six o' clock by the time I finally got a hold of her.
“Hey, Princess, Happy Christmas”, I greeted her.
“Hey”, she replied. She sounded distracted, almost as if I'd interrupted her at an inconvenient moment.
“How are things back home?” I asked.
“”Fine. We're doing good”, was her short reply.
“Are you busy? Should I call back later?” I asked, still getting the vibe that my call wasn't coming at a good time.
I laughed. “I know what you mean.”
“How are things on your end?” she asked.
“Same as always. Just your typical family holiday stuff.”
“Great.”
“Yeah, that's one way of phrasing it.”
And then, for the first time in...ever...there was a silence on the line. An uncomfortable silence. Not the kind where you're both content just knowing the other person is there, hearing them breathe. No, this was a silence where it seemed we were both trying to come up with something to say, but failing to find anything. It seemed to stretch into minutes, even though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.
“Al, you still there?”
“Yeah, I'm still here.”
“Everything alright? No offence, but you seem distracted.”
“No...I'm...it's just not a good time right now. I was about to do the dishes. Would it be okay if I called you tomorrow?”
I paused for a beat. Was this what our relationship had become now? I remembered times when Al and I spent hours on the phone, talking and not caring that we had to get up early the next morning to go to class, or even ditching said class for another phone call.
And now the dishes were more important?
“Sure, call me tomorrow”, I said, forcing my tone to remain light and unbothered. “Sweet dreams, Allie.”
“Sweet dreams.”
And then she hung up.
Chapter 7