by Ashley Royer
“My presents for you guys were already shipped out,” I tell my mum and Caleb.
My dad shakes his head. “Check under the tree. I didn’t mail them.”
“But what about Caleb’s? How’d you—”
"Don’t worry, I have it all under control,” my dad tells me, laughing.
My dad helped me buy everything, since obviously I couldn’t afford much. I had some money saved up, but not a lot. At some point, I guess I’m going to need a job.
I smile and search for presents marked with their names. I find Caleb’s first, which isn’t even under the tree, and give it to him.
He quickly unwraps the large box and opens it up.
“No way. You did not!” he yells.
I laugh. “I did.”
I got Caleb a new guitar, because when I was still in Australia, his guitar was falling apart. He got his guitar when he was seven, and it was passed down to him, so it’s pretty beat up now. He was always trying to get a new one, but his parents never would buy it, and he couldn’t afford it himself.
He runs his hand over the neck and gently takes it out of the box. He quickly tunes it and plays some chords.
“This is perfect. I can’t believe you got this for me!” He can’t stop smiling or take his eyes off the guitar.
“Good luck getting it on the plane home,” I tell him.
He shrugs and laughs, continuing to play.
He puts the guitar aside after a little, and we continue to open presents. Caleb brought me a bunch of stuff from Australia, which I really like. I’ve been getting really homesick lately, and he knows that. There’s food, pictures, seashells, and it even kind of smells like Australia, which is weird. I never realized Australia had a distinct smell. He even got some of our old friends to write messages in a book. I honestly didn’t think people would notice I was gone, but according to their messages, they do. I always just thought no one cared about me anymore. The majority of people that wrote messages haven’t spoken to me in months.
I try not to cry because I’m overcome with emotions after opening Caleb’s gift.
“Dude, you better not start bawling,” Caleb says, laughing.
I quickly wipe my eyes. “I’m not,” I tell him, laughing at myself.
I give my mum a homemade movie I made for her, which has videos and pictures I found from when I was younger. There are current ones in it too. My dad had secretly been taking videos and pictures of me, and so had Delilah. Little does she know that I did the same with her.
We finish opening presents an hour later. I gave my dad a book that my mum had sent here by accident when I moved, which had a lot of things from my childhood, like school projects and photos. My dad always says he wishes he paid more attention to the stuff I did when I was younger, so I thought he’d like it.
My parents got me two tickets so I can go home to Australia during the summer. I’m not sure if it’s to go back for good, or just for a trip. I’m honestly torn between here and Australia, because they’re both my home now. I don’t want to think about that right now though.
After presents, we all just sit around and talk, which is really nice. It’s been months since I’ve spoken to my mum and Caleb, so I think they want to talk about anything and everything.
Delilah texts me and tells me she’ll come over sometime around noon to exchange presents. I am still nervous she might not like the necklace I got her.
Caleb and I go back to my room, because he wants to play the guitar. He sits down on the air mattress that’s in my room and plays random chords on the guitar. He hums lightly as he plays.
He stops abruptly when my phone vibrates with a text from Delilah.
“Are you guys dating?” he asks, smirking mischievously.
I nearly choke, and my cheeks blush. “No.”
“Sure seems like it.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Friends don’t kick each other under the table or give each other heart necklaces,” Caleb says, using finger quotes around the word friends.
“Yes, they do.”
“Not really. Are you blind, Levi? You obviously both like each other.”
I shake my head and shrug. “Maybe we do. We’re just not doing anything about it.”
“Well, you should. I don’t know what she’s done, but I’m pretty sure she’s the reason you’ve completely changed since I last saw you. Whatever’s going on, it’s working.”
I roll my eyes and hear a knock at the door. Delilah walks in and smiles.
“Hey, guys,” she says, standing in the doorway.
Caleb waves and smiles. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas! Nice hair, Levi,” she says, laughing.
“Okay, I know it’s a mess, no need to tell me.” I run my fingers through my hair to try to fix it.
“I’ll be going now,” Caleb says, picking up his guitar and leaving my room.
Delilah sits beside me on my bed and places a gift bag in my lap. “Merry Christmas,” she whispers, smiling widely.
“You already brought Caleb and my mum here, you didn’t have to get me something else,” I tell her.
“It’s nothing huge,” she says, joining her fingers with mine.
“I can’t open the gift if I’m holding your hand,” I say awkwardly.
She laughs. “Right.”
I take out the tissue paper and pull out a beanie. More specifically, the beanie Delilah took and never gave back. There’s also a sweatshirt she never returned to me.
“Figured you’d be wanting those at some point,” she says.
I laugh. “I wondered where these went.”
I take Delilah’s hand in mine and place the small box in the palm of her hand.
She unwraps it slowly and gently opens the box to reveal the necklace.
“Levi, it’s beautiful,” she gasps.
“It’s a heartbeat. I thought you’d like it. I thought of you when I saw it because you’re the reason my heart continues to beat. Without you, I’m not sure where I’d be,” I tell her nervously.
Delilah hugs me tightly. “This is the best gift ever, thank you. I love—I love all the thought you put into it.”
I blush. “It’s no big deal, really.”
I help her put the necklace on, and she runs her finger across the zigzagged line.
“I don’t ever want to take it off,” she says.
“I was so worried you wouldn’t like it.”
“I love it. I couldn’t ask for a better Christmas present from you.”
I shrug. “Having you in my life is the best present I could have ever received.”
Chapter Forty-Four
LEVI
Caleb?” I whisper. It’s way past midnight, and I haven’t been able to sleep for the past two hours.
“Yeah?” he mumbles.
“Are you awake?” I prop myself up on my elbow to try and see him, even though it’s pitch black.
“Obviously, if I’m talk
ing,” he groans.
“Well, you sleep talk sometimes,” I say, laughing.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
I hear him move on his air mattress, and the light from his phone illuminates his face.
“It’s almost one in the morning. What’s wrong?” he says.
“I can’t sleep.”
“And why’s that?”
I shrug, even though he can’t see me. “I can’t stop thinking.”
“About what?”
Caleb’s always been like this. He’s always concerned about me and asks questions to make sure I’m okay. Most of my “friends” back in Australia never bothered to see if I was really okay. Caleb never gets annoyed, though, no matter how awful I am.
“Delia. This happens a lot. And especially now that it’s the first Christmas without her. I was trying to avoid being sad the past few days, but I can’t help it, and it gets really bad at night, and I never know what to do because once I start thinking, it doesn’t stop, and I just get wallowed up in my sadness, and I’m really trying not to let it happen, but sometimes I can’t control it, and—”
"Levi, it’s way too early in the morning to be speaking that fast. Breathe. Relax.”
“I can’t, though, because she’s every single thought in my head right now, no matter how hard I try to stop it,” I say, rubbing my eyes.
Caleb sighs. “I know this is hard, and it will probably always be a little difficult. There will be a lot of ‘firsts’ without Delia. It’s okay though. You just need to cope with it, and it’ll get easier as time goes on.” Caleb yawns quietly. “Try to go to sleep, and we can talk more later.”
“All right. Thanks, Caleb.”
He yawns again. “Goodnight, Levi.”
“Goodnight.”
I stay awake for another hour. I try to fall asleep, but I can’t. No matter how hard I try to calm my mind, my thoughts are going wild.
So many things have changed since last Christmas. Almost nothing is the same. Last Christmas, I was at my home-home in Australia. I had spent the morning with Delia, and we stayed up late that night talking on the phone. She gave me a bunch of really bad movies and candy for Christmas, promising that we would watch one movie every Friday and make fun of them. We only got through half of them. I haven’t touched them since. They’re sitting somewhere in the closet in my room back in Australia. I wonder what Delia would have wanted for Christmas. I wonder what we would have given each other. I can’t help but think about what Christmas would have been like with her.
At some point, I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up in the morning to the bright sun shining through my window. I squint and look down at the floor to where Caleb is, and he’s still asleep.
I quietly get out of bed and walk out of my room. Thankfully, I don’t wake Caleb up. My mum is sitting on the couch, watching something on TV. I sit down beside her, and she smiles.
“Good morning,” she says quietly. She’s always quiet in the morning. Even when it’s just her and me in our house, it’s like she doesn’t want to wake anyone up.
“Hi,” I say, equally as quiet.
“You look tired,” she tells me.
I rub my eyes. “Because I am.”
She sighs. “Is everything okay?”
I nod. “Yeah, I was just thinking too much, I guess.”
She puts her hand on top of mine. “Are you sure everything is okay? Did something happen?”
“No, no, everything’s fine. I was just thinking a lot about Delia, but I’m good now. It happens every once in a while, I’m used to it.”
“Have you been taking your pills?” she asks, concerned.
I nod. “Every day. I promise.”
She smiles a little. “Good. You’re getting much better.”
“I know.”
My mum gets up from the couch and leaves the room. She comes back with a large envelope with my name on it. “I wasn’t sure when to give you this, but now seems like a good time. It’s from Delia’s parents.”
I slowly take the envelope and debate whether or not I should open it. I’m afraid of what might be inside.
“They thought you would like it,” my mum tells me.
I slowly rip open the envelope, and two pictures fall out. A piece of paper comes out too.
I look at the two pictures. One is of Delia and me at one of my games. We’re talking through the fence, like we always did. Our fingers are slightly intertwined through the fence’s wires, and she’s smiling widely.
The second picture is Delia leaning her head on my shoulder with her eyes shut and a small smile is on her lips. I don’t remember this picture ever being taken, or even when it was taken. But I like it. I like to remember her smiling.
I try not to cry and take a deep breath.
“I haven’t looked at pictures of her for a really, really long time,” I whisper.
“I know,” my mum says. Even without me telling her, my mum always seems to know things.
I open up the letter her parents wrote me and read it over a few times.
Levi,
Merry Christmas! We hope all is going well for you. We really do miss you. Your mum’s been keeping us updated, it’s like you never left!
We found these pictures in Delia’s room and thought you might want them.
We want you to remember the happier times. You always made Delia very happy, and we know she did the same for you. She wouldn’t want to see you sad or upset. All she ever wanted was for you to be happy.
Your mum has told us that things are getting better. You’ve made some good friends, which is fantastic! Please don’t hold yourself back from them. We are sure they are all great, and you’re making good memories with them. From what your mum has told us, they seem perfect for you! I’m sure Delia is looking down on you smiling. We know how hard it is to let go of someone who meant so much, but that’s what Delia, and we, want. We want what will make you happy.
We hope you’re having a great time in Maine, and we hope to see you soon. We don’t want to end this on a sad note, so here’s a picture of Delia and you. Delia loved these pictures! Look at your hair!
Be well.
Merry Christmas, Levi.
I smile, even though there are tears in my eyes. My mum hasn’t stopped looking at me this whole time.
“They’re right. We all want you to be happy, Levi. It’s been so hard seeing you so sad. You have no idea how proud I am of how far you’ve come the past few months,” my mum says, her voice slightly breaking.
“I love you, Mum,” I whisper.
“I love you too. We all want what’s best for you,” she says, hugging me tightly.
We talk for a few minutes about Delia, but it doesn’t make me sad like it usually does. It makes me strangely happy. My eyes are slightly watery, though.
Looking at the pictures, I notice differences instead of similarities between Delia and Delilah. I think about how Delilah bites her nails, and Delia didn’t. Delilah’s
eyes are a little lighter, and her smile is a little wider. The more I look, the more I see.
I quickly wipe my eyes and stand up from the couch.
“I’m gonna go to Delilah’s,” I tell my mum. “I have to talk to her.”
I grab my jacket and walk outside toward Delilah’s. Hopefully she’s awake.
I’m really thankful that Delia’s parents wrote that letter and sent the pictures. I really needed it right now. It was nice to read what they had to say and see the old pictures. Although Delia and I didn’t know each other when we were younger, we always compared pictures. It surprisingly didn’t make me sad to read their letter or look at the pictures they sent. It made me happy, and I feel somewhat lighter. They told me what I needed to hear from them, which is that it’s okay to move on. Many people have said that, but I guess what I needed was for Delia’s own parents to say it. No one knew Delia better than them.
I call Delilah, and she picks up after a few rings.
“Yes, Levi?” she says.
“I’m outside your house,” I tell her as I’m walking up her driveway. I open up the front door that’s always unlocked. “Okay, I’m inside your house now.” I wave to Lucy while she’s watching TV. “I’m coming to your room. And I’m here,” I say, hanging up the phone and sitting down on Delilah’s bed. She’s standing in front of her closet, wearing her pajamas, and her hair’s in a messy bun.
“What if I had already started getting dressed? You can’t just barge in here,” she tells me while pretending to be upset.
I shrug. “Too late. Nice pajamas.” Her pants have smiling penguins on them.
“Not as bad as your pizza underwear,” she tells me.
“Okay, you walked into my house once when I was getting changed, and you haven’t let me live it down,” I say, putting my head in my hands.