Sulli holds her bent legs. “He regrets breaking a promise to Winona more than he regrets trying to kick one of my boyfriends to the curb.” Her face twists. “It’s fucked up. And…this whole time, we could’ve commiserated about how hard being vegan was. He could’ve confided in me. Instead, I had to eavesdrop to fucking know anything.”
“You’ll get back there,” I tell her.
“No we won’t, Banks,” she says with reddened eyes. “I’m never going to get back there if he doesn’t accept that I’m with you and Akara.”
I shake my head. “I have to believe he’ll come around.” If she’s losing hope, then the best I can do is keep hope alive for us.
She stares at the floor.
Akara grips the waist-high, wooden bedpost. “Is that why you’re drinking, Sul?”
Sulli bristles. “I just like it…and yeah, I guess it makes me feel better.” Her eyes flit from him to me. “Lots of people drink to calm their nerves.”
She’s not wrong.
“Kits, I’ve seen you grab a beer after a long, hard fucking day a ton of times.”
Akara touches his chest. “Maybe I shouldn’t have.”
She gapes. “Seriously? You’re just saying that because you’re worried about me?”
Akara pushes his hair back, then glances at me like, you should take this one, Banks.
I step away from the dresser. “When I’m in my fucking feelings and need something to soften the edge of the day or night, I call on the worst friend I’ve ever made.”
Sulli processes, and I shrug to her. “I smoke. Cigarettes are my no-good, very bad fucking friend, and you don’t want a friend like that.”
She presses a hand to her flushed cheek. “It was one beer. Look, I know alcoholism runs in my family. I’ve been careful. I’m still careful.”
Is she?
Doubt touches her eyes as she stares from me to Akara, back to me. “Don’t look at me like that. Please.” Her voice cracks. “I’m fine.”
“It wasn’t just one spiked hot chocolate,” Akara refutes.
“I’m paying attention to what I’m drinking, I promise. I fucking promise.” She’s almost in tears. “Fuck.” She buries her face in her palms.
“Hey, hey, hey, mermaid.” I cross the room the same time as Akara. Our urgency and concern speed us towards Sulli like a bullet, and I sit on her left. Akara on her right.
He breathes against her ear, “We’re not trying to gang up on you, Sul.”
“I just need you both to trust me. I can’t have you against me…I don’t want to be all alone.”
I touch her head. “You’re not alone. We’re not going anywhere.”
“We have to be honest with you, okay?” Akara tells her. “We care too much about you.”
“We don’t want anything to happen to you,” I add.
Sulli peels her hands off her face. She swallows hard, unable to lift her gaze.
Akara is tensed. My muscles are flexed. We’re walking a thin rope between comforting her and making sure we don’t enable something that could go south fast. But so much shit has hit the fan recently. Christ, all I want to do is hold Sulli.
Akara ends up continuing, “All we’re saying is that you’re strong enough to deal with this crap without needing alcohol to calm your nerves.”
She frowns deeper. “So what…I’m not allowed to drink now?”
“That’s up to you, Sul.” He wraps an arm around her waist. “We’re not giving you rules. We’re just trying to look out for you.”
“I can handle it,” Sulli says under her breath. “I know my limits. I promise, I do.”
She’s been trying to prove to her family that she’s a responsible, capable adult.
But she doesn’t need to prove that to me.
“You’re always gonna be a strong woman in my eyes, Sullivan Meadows,” I profess, and her green eyes lift up to me. “Even when you’re crying, even when you’re struggling—I see your iron-will. You don’t ever need to be tough for me.”
Sulli wipes at her wet cheeks, intaking a deeper breath. She looks to Akara.
“Or for me,” Akara says, “though, you’re more like a little playful racoon around me—the donut bandit.”
She almost smiles, then lightly elbows him. Her glassy eyes drift between me and Akara. “I know…I know you both might disagree, but…I think I can figure out moderation. It’s in me.” She swallows harder. “I’ll try to be more aware of when I grab a drink so it’s not my no-good, very bad fucking friend. But I’m not spiraling or anything.”
It’s good that she’s aware. Right now, that’s all we’re hoping.
“Okay,” Akara says with a strong nod.
“Sounds good to me,” I chime in.
Sulli holds out her two fists for us to bump, a sad smile on her face. Like she thinks we’re gonna reject her.
No way in hell.
I touch knuckle-to-knuckle.
Akara fist-bumps her other hand.
And then Akara and I exchange a look, and we start to smile. In unison, with our arms around Sulli, we pull our girlfriend down to the bed as we go down with her.
She laughs, and the sound floods my body. Christmas at the lake house. It won’t work unless the three of us are a united front. We’re not splintering.
Sorry, Ryke Meadows, you’ll have to wish upon a different fucking star. Mine’s shooting right past you.
44
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
The lake house is a Christmas safe haven. Like we’re somewhere far, far away on the North Pole hanging out near Kris Kringle. Two years ago, I spent December 25th on a tour bus and then last year, I was stuck in Scotland, and this year, I’m finally able to do what I always used to do.
I wake early, early on Christmas morning. Before the sun is able to crest the Smoky Mountains, I’m out of bed.
“It’s my lake house Christmas tradition with Luna,” I whisper to my boyfriends while I jump into pants. They’re very much naked in bed.
We didn’t have sex. I’ve been nervous about being too loud since I’m staying on the same floor as my parents. So we just ended up cuddling.
Last night, we naked-cuddled. Or what I’m calling nuddling.
Banks and Akara were dying laughing this morning when I woke up and said “I really like nuddling with you two.”
And then Akara naked-grinded me with a playful, teasing smile and said, “How about naked-grinding?” He humped my leg, and I couldn’t stop laughing, especially as Banks joined in.
They both showered me with neck kisses, and I had the hardest fucking time leaving the bed. I wanted to stay, but Christmas tradition calls.
I snap on a bra. I’m still hot from all the teasing last night.
How we survived without going all the way is a fucking accomplishment that makes me smile.
Banks called it a Christmas miracle and Akara said, “Santa Claus isn’t the source of our willpower. Ryke hearing us fuck his daughter is.”
He has a point.
But Kits can be a Scrooge around this time of year. He’ll say bad things tend to fall during the winter months. I love how Akara steps one foot into logic and then one foot into something more instinctual and spiritual.
“Why’s the tradition with Luna and not Winona?” Banks wonders, watching me pull an ugly Santa sweater over my head.
“When I was younger, I used to share a room with Luna, and I’d wake her up to go to the lake.” I shrug. “We’re closer in age, and I think our parents hoped we’d be best friends…but she always gravitated towards Tom and Eliot, and I ended up hanging out with Beckett.” I find my jacket on the floor. “At the lake house, though, we’d share canoes and do things like that, but it really wasn’t until we roomed together at the townhouse that we got a lot closer.”
So this year, I’m pee-your-pants-on-Christmas-morning kind of excited to experience this with Luna again. We’re closer than we’ve ever been, and that means something to me.
I tell them, “
I’ll be done before everyone wakes up for presents and home videos.” We always rewatch old home videos that my mom captured.
“Text me if the ice looks like it’s melting,” Akara says.
“Will fucking do.” Fully dressed in winter gear, I return to the bed. “See ya later.” I kiss Akara lightly on the lips, then Banks—each kiss is a peck. To be frank, I can’t stop smiling at the fact that this is real.
My boyfriends with me on Christmas morning.
I get to go outside in the privacy and peace of the lake house.
And they’re checking me out like I’m still as beautiful fully clothed as I am naked.
“She’s smitten,” Akara tells Banks.
He wears a crooked smile. “Can’t even look at us without blushing.”
“Goodbye,” I say, face burning. Fuck, they’re way too hot, and I’m just trying to make a semi-graceful exit.
“Bye, string bean!” Akara calls after me.
I flip him off without looking back.
Their laughter stays with me all the way down the stairs. I grab my ice skates from the mud room, steal a pizzelle from the kitchen (Banks’ grandma made batches of the Italian waffle-like cookie for her grandsons—and I’m fucking obsessed with them even more than Banks), and then I head to the back porch.
Last night, the lake was frozen over enough that my tradition with Luna should be a go.
Early morning ice skating, I’m coming for you.
Outside, snow-tipped wreaths, strung lights, and real icicles adorn the lake house. Festive and magical. The sky is a muddy shade of dark blue, and I decide to wait for Luna on the snowy deck.
A minute passes.
I watch the sky lighten.
Another five minutes. I check my phone. Maybe she forgot? Fuck, I should’ve reminded her last night. Or maybe she slept in on accident. Luna isn’t exactly an early bird.
Or maybe this tradition just meant more to me and less to her. I’m the one who always woke up Luna. I’m the one who grabbed her ice skates and said, let’s go.
Maybe she never really cared.
My stomach sinks lower and lower and lower.
Orange hues crest the mountains, and another two minutes tick by. I’m about to text her when the backdoor opens.
“Hey. Hi. Heidi. Ho. Howdy.” Luna lifts up her ice skates, poorly painted neon-green years ago, and decorated with old Lisa Frank stickers.
I laugh into a smile. “You remembered?”
“I never forgot.”
My heart swells.
“I’m not late, am I?” Luna asks, pulling on a multi-colored chunky sweater she knitted herself. “I set my alarm, but I slept through a few minutes.”
“No, you’re right on fucking time.” I sling an arm around her shoulders, and she grins. We head down the slick, icy stairs. “Watch that one,” I warn as I almost slide.
“Got it.” Luna skips the stair and grabs the railing.
Reaching the bottom, we head down the snowy hill towards the lake. I make out an approaching figure. We’re not alone out here. Like he took an early morning jog, Uncle Lo is decked out in running gear and hiking up the hill.
“Hey, Uncle Lo,” I say in greeting as we pass. “Merry Christmas.”
He nods stiffly, cheekbones sharpened. “Merry Christmas, Sulli.” He tries to force a smile, but the entire act looks painful on his face. Once he sees his daughter, he softens a little. “Luna, you two be careful on the ice. We don’t need any Christmas calamities, alright? The Avengers aren’t phone-able out here.”
Luna smiles. “Uh-huh, no accidents, Dad.” Her breath smokes the air. “I’m not planning on ruining Xander’s birthday.”
Her younger brother turns seventeen today. All of our siblings are growing up so fucking fast.
We are too.
I chime in, “We’re always careful Uncle Lo.”
He cringes into a tiny wince like that’s un-fucking-true. Like I’m bathing in pure, toxic risk these cold winter days. He opens his mouth to speak, but I guess he thinks better of responding. And Uncle Lo just leaves for the house.
It stings.
I try to fortify iron walls, but a pressure still weighs heavy on me.
Luna follows close behind me and gives me big wide eyes as soon as her dad is gone. “Jeez, I’ve never seen my dad that frosty.” She fixes her beanie, which is actually a full-on face ski mask that resembles an alien head. Bright neon-green and all, but she folds the fabric up like a regular ole beanie.
“He’s been the same way to Akara and Banks,” I say with a lump in my throat. We reach the wooden dock, covered in soft white powder. “I thought he’d be a little warmer, but it’s been five days.”
And it’s Christmas. If the holiday spirit couldn’t warm Uncle Lo to my relationship, then nothing during this trip will.
Luna shrugs. “He’s a Slytherin.” She says his Hogwarts House like it explains everything.
Stop expecting everyone who disagrees to come around. Disappointment and hurt aren’t feelings I wanted to attach to me this morning. I glance back at the lake house, remembering how happy Akara and Banks made me feel when I woke up in their arms.
I always thought the lake house is the refuge of my life, but I’m starting to feel like they’re my greatest safe haven.
Fucking ironic, considering everyone else believes they’re the biggest danger and the greatest threat to my life.
Luna and I sink down on the snow and start putting on our skates. I untie knotted laces. “At least my dad is talking to Banks and Akara now.”
Albeit he’s not very fucking nice. My dad curses out my boyfriends and tells one to go away if they’re in the same room together. I swear my dad is trying to manifest a break-up.
I try not to picture losing Banks or Akara. A sharp pain stabs into me.
Luna kicks off her boot and fits her foot in a skate. “That’s the important thing, for sure. My dad’s opinion on your love life shouldn’t matter at all.”
I tie the laces on my skate and glance at Luna. “His opinion shouldn’t matter for your love life either.”
She frowns more. “I just don’t like being the fuck-up in my family…getting their praise just feels better.”
“I get that,” I mutter, knowing I’ve been hoping for my dad’s approval when I shouldn’t need validation from anyone. “And just so you know, you’re not a fuck-up, Luna.”
She shrugs. “I don’t always make the best choices.”
I think about me and the spiked hot cocoas at the Winter Fest, plus my talk with Banks and Akara about alcohol. “Me either,” I say softly and mull this over. “I have a theory,” I tell Luna, “that maybe this is just part of getting older. We’re not supposed to always make the best choices, but we’re doing the best we can.”
“If getting older means making a few bad choices, then I’m good with that.” Luna laces her second skate. “Aunt Rose and Uncle Connor didn’t seem to be any different around you.”
“They weren’t,” I say into a smile. “Jane said her parents were cool with me having two boyfriends. They’re more worried about the leaks.”
The gossip site has been inactive since we left for the lake house. Which has raised some suspicions, but Akara said the surveillance team found zero bugs again.
Not even in the library.
If the mole thinks my roommates and I will start cannibalizing each other with accusations and distrust, they’ve miscalculated our allegiance to each other. None of us are pointing fingers.
Luna knots her laces. “My mom is also very much on your side. Her Christmas present to you is kinda like…” her face lights up. “Well, I can’t say exactly, but it’s definitely pro-Kitsulletti.”
Kitsulletti.
I breathe in the sound. That’s the first time I’ve heard that ship name out loud. My spirits lift, floating on the clouds. The sun begins to peek over the rolling hills of the Smoky Mountains. My face hurts from smiling. “Your mom is a fucking goddess.”
&
nbsp; “So is yours,” Luna sing-songs cutely, her cheeks rosy from the cold.
Skates on, we walk out onto the ice. Early, early morning with Luna, the world is calm and peaceful, and we twirl around each other with good balance from years of practice and falling on our butts.
We skate in zig-zags, clasp hands, let go and laugh. We try funny maneuvers like we’re pro ice skaters. One corkscrew has Luna tumbling down, and I zip by and help her up.
Her palms are red from the ice, but she barely glances at them. “You know how I’ve been taking online college courses?”
At the University of Pennsylvania. I nod, “Yeah.”
We’ve gone still, and she tucks a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. “I’m going to take more next year.” She pulls the beanie down her face. Her entire head looks like a green alien. “But the class I want to take isn’t offered online, so I’m going to have to actually go in.” Her words come out muffled but clear enough.
Back when we were living at the townhouse, we used to hang out at the bars together near Penn, and now she’s actually going to go to Penn in the flesh.
“Are you nervous?” I ask since she’s told me she’s “resisted” doing the college lecture hall setting. Afraid it’d be too much like high school catty drama.
“Kinda. But I want to take these courses. In a way, you’ve given me the push to try.”
Something wells up in me. “Really? Me? Not Moffy or Jane?”
Luna shakes her alien head. “No. You. I know how cautious you are around the media. And despite that, you’re still holding onto the guys you love. I don’t want to be afraid of a repeat of high school. So I’m going.”
My lips part in surprise. To think that I could be a leader—that someone in the family could be inspired by me, and not for my goal-oriented, Olympic-driven spirit but something else that might define me—I go utterly fucking speechless.
Before I can say thanks or find some sort of vowels, Luna’s phone buzzes.
Pulling up her beanie, she uses face-recognition to unlock her phone.
“Orion,” Luna says in longing. “I miss his wet nose.”
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