December 11
I roll onto my left side, curling up and bringing my knees to my chest. I adjust the comforter snugly under my chin and hug my legs. Closing my eyes, I pray the pain subsides quickly. Another cramp pierces through my lower abdomen.
I feel a hand touch my shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” James’s voice echoes in my mind.I don’t even turn to look at him.
“Shh, don’t shout. My head’s splitting.”“I’ll take that as a ‘terrible,’ then,” he whispers.
I grimace, even though he can’t see me. Terrible is an understatement.
“Would you prefer some tea or hot chocolate?” He continues whispering while his hand sinks into my hair, massaging my scalp.
I sigh in relief. “Tea.”
I hear him get up from the bed.
“Could you bring the hot water bottle too?”He kis
December 12I toss the first bag of popcorn into the microwave and grab two giant bowls.Carly has organized a girls' movie night at her place. We each wrote the name of a movie on a slip of paper, drew one, and landed on Titanic. Though I strongly suspect we all wrote down the same film.“Why don’t we try making caramel popcorn?” Skyler asks, looking at us expectantly.“Skyler, darling, have you forgotten who you’re dealing with? I once burned pasta because I fell asleep while cooking. Let alone making caramel. Or any popcorn that doesn’t come out of a microwave.”A ding interrupts us.“Speaking of popcorn, it’s ready!” I exclaim, taking the first bag and emptying it into a bowl before popping the second bag into the microwave.“Yes, but Brianna took a cooking class. She can make food without burning it now,” Skyler says, trying to
𝟏𝟑 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫One of my fondest childhood memories during the Christmas season is the tradition of the elf. My parents used to tell me that Santa sent little helpers around the world to check if kids were being good or bad. If they behaved, the elf would leave a small gift, but if they were naughty, the elf would play tricks on them. These elves stayed in our house for almost all of December: during the day, they were lifeless dolls watching over us; at night, they came alive and acted. When I discovered none of it was true and it was my parents leaving the gifts or playing pranks, my heart broke. But I still remember the joy of those moments, which is why I played along when my parents told the story of the elves to Jeremy, once he was old enough to understand.Tonight, my brother is staying over at our house again, and the job James and I have is to make the elf "come alive." My mom let me know Jeremy didn’t behave well today, so we get to tap
December 14thJames and I walk into his parents' house. The first to greet us is Julie, her arms wide open, ready for a hug. "There's my favorite person!"James steps ahead of me, arms spread for his mom, but she brushes past him and comes straight to hug me.I suppress a laugh at James’s offended, indignant expression—his arms still outstretched in disbelief. "Hi, Mom. It's so nice to know you care about me."Julie lets me go
December 15thJeremy“Wow, so many elves!” Aisha looks excited.The room is filled with people dressed as elves. I’m not sure I still like elves, not after they ate my cereal and tried to dunk my toothbrush in the toilet.“There are so many people,” I say, watching the line of people in front of us. James and Brianna brought us to Santa’s house, and now we’re waiting in line to tell him what we want for Christmas.“Lots of kids want to see Santa,” Brianna says, running a hand through my hair.“Why are we waiting in line when we could just wait for him at home by the fireplace?” That way, we could eat chocolate chip cookies and drink milk together—hoping the elves don’t steal my cookies.“Because this way, he can hear what you want today and then bring it to you on Christmas by coming through the chimneys,&rdqu
I swing open the wooden door leading to the kitchen, grab one of the chairs around the table, and turn it to sit astride it. I look up to meet my parents' gaze, which was already fixed on me. "I need money," I start.My father raises an eyebrow. "How much?"I look at him. This is the moment he's going to kill me. "A little money..." I take a moment while he waits for my answer. "Something like a hundred or two hundred-"My father interrupts immediately with, "I'm broke." He returns to reading the newspaper he had left on the table during my entrance.My mother hasn't said a word yet. She continues to stare at me, and I must admit it's becoming unsettling. "Did you get yourself into trouble with some drug dealer and owe them money?" she asks.I roll my eyes. "No, but-"Before I can finish, she interrupts me. "Are you in trouble in general?""No m-" I'm interrupted again."Are you risking your life if we don't give you this money?" she continues.Oh God, this conversation will never end
Before heading home, I stopped at the small supermarket a couple of blocks from my house.As soon as I walked in, the air conditioning hit me like a blast of cold air from the North Pole.I get it—summer, heat, and all that—but turning a supermarket into a freezer in mid-June seems a bit excessive, doesn't it? What are they going to do in August? Try to freeze themselves to escape "heat depression"?I didn't even grab a cart since I only needed one thing: ice cream. My parents love ice cream.I ponder which flavors to get. My dad's favorite is cookie, while my mom's is mint. I grab one tub of each flavor, and while I'm at it, I also pick up my favorite—coconut. I head to the checkout, pay, and ask for one of those insulated bags to keep the ice cream from turning into a milkshake on the way home.I return home, open the door, and close it behind me, placing the keys on the table next to the door.No sign of my parents.I take the ice cream tubs to the kitchen and put them in the freez
A deafening sound interrupts my beautiful dream. It takes me a moment to realize that the sound is coming from that infernal contraption more commonly known as an alarm clock.I want to throw it against the wall, but my mother would do the same to me, and that idea doesn't thrill me at all.I turn off the alarm and roll over, hoping to fall back asleep. Then I remember what day it is.Shit, today is Monday. It's my first day at work.I jump out of bed and grab some clothes at random from the chair, which has become my new wardrobe.I just hope the shirt isn't dirty.I dash down the stairs and head to the kitchen to grab something to eat. I see my mom already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in her hands."Why didn't you wake me up earlier knowing I start work today?" I ask her.She looks at me and raises an eyebrow perfectly drawn with an eyebrow pencil.It's my mom, and she does her makeup better than I do, damn it."You said you were becoming responsible, Brianna. So it's a
The ringtone of my phone interrupts the silence of my room. I look at the screen and see that it's Carly, my best friend.I swipe the green icon to answer the call.I don't even get a chance to say "hello" before she starts talking."Tonight you and I are going dancing. I want to see you in a dress and heels. We'll get ready at my place and then walk to the Hunter so we can drink since we won't need to drive. No arguments. I'll pick you up at nine," and she hangs up.I couldn't have found a stranger best friend.I put the phone back where it was before, that is, thrown somewhere on my bed. As far as my first day went, it wasn't too bad, aside from James and the fact that I wasn't even looking for a job. I'm tempted to prepare some fake medical documents stating my insanity or that I have an extremely contagious and deadly disease, then bring them to work and leave them sticking out of my bag and wait for James to read them. Just to pass the time and get some revenge. Yesterday, he gav
December 15thJeremy“Wow, so many elves!” Aisha looks excited.The room is filled with people dressed as elves. I’m not sure I still like elves, not after they ate my cereal and tried to dunk my toothbrush in the toilet.“There are so many people,” I say, watching the line of people in front of us. James and Brianna brought us to Santa’s house, and now we’re waiting in line to tell him what we want for Christmas.“Lots of kids want to see Santa,” Brianna says, running a hand through my hair.“Why are we waiting in line when we could just wait for him at home by the fireplace?” That way, we could eat chocolate chip cookies and drink milk together—hoping the elves don’t steal my cookies.“Because this way, he can hear what you want today and then bring it to you on Christmas by coming through the chimneys,&rdqu
December 14thJames and I walk into his parents' house. The first to greet us is Julie, her arms wide open, ready for a hug. "There's my favorite person!"James steps ahead of me, arms spread for his mom, but she brushes past him and comes straight to hug me.I suppress a laugh at James’s offended, indignant expression—his arms still outstretched in disbelief. "Hi, Mom. It's so nice to know you care about me."Julie lets me go
𝟏𝟑 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫One of my fondest childhood memories during the Christmas season is the tradition of the elf. My parents used to tell me that Santa sent little helpers around the world to check if kids were being good or bad. If they behaved, the elf would leave a small gift, but if they were naughty, the elf would play tricks on them. These elves stayed in our house for almost all of December: during the day, they were lifeless dolls watching over us; at night, they came alive and acted. When I discovered none of it was true and it was my parents leaving the gifts or playing pranks, my heart broke. But I still remember the joy of those moments, which is why I played along when my parents told the story of the elves to Jeremy, once he was old enough to understand.Tonight, my brother is staying over at our house again, and the job James and I have is to make the elf "come alive." My mom let me know Jeremy didn’t behave well today, so we get to tap
December 12I toss the first bag of popcorn into the microwave and grab two giant bowls.Carly has organized a girls' movie night at her place. We each wrote the name of a movie on a slip of paper, drew one, and landed on Titanic. Though I strongly suspect we all wrote down the same film.“Why don’t we try making caramel popcorn?” Skyler asks, looking at us expectantly.“Skyler, darling, have you forgotten who you’re dealing with? I once burned pasta because I fell asleep while cooking. Let alone making caramel. Or any popcorn that doesn’t come out of a microwave.”A ding interrupts us.“Speaking of popcorn, it’s ready!” I exclaim, taking the first bag and emptying it into a bowl before popping the second bag into the microwave.“Yes, but Brianna took a cooking class. She can make food without burning it now,” Skyler says, trying to
December 11I roll onto my left side, curling up and bringing my knees to my chest. I adjust the comforter snugly under my chin and hug my legs. Closing my eyes, I pray the pain subsides quickly. Another cramp pierces through my lower abdomen.I feel a hand touch my shoulder.“How are you feeling?” James’s voice echoes in my mind.I don’t even turn to look at him.“Shh, don’t shout. My head’s splitting.”“I’ll take that as a ‘terrible,’ then,” he whispers.I grimace, even though he can’t see me. Terrible is an understatement.“Would you prefer some tea or hot chocolate?” He continues whispering while his hand sinks into my hair, massaging my scalp.I sigh in relief. “Tea.”I hear him get up from the bed.“Could you bring the hot water bottle too?”He kis
December 10thJamesI rub my eyes, feeling the burn. I’ve spent the last few hours working on the computer, and all I want to do now is relax with Brianna. I shut down my laptop, close it, and leave it on the desk in the study. Heading downstairs to the living room, where I last saw my girlfriend, I’m met with silence. I crane my neck and glance toward the kitchen, but it’s empty. Frowning in confusion, I run a hand through my hair, pushing back the strands that fall over my eyes.“Brianna?”I wait a few seconds, but there’s no response. Rounding the couch, I finally understand the rare tranquility in the house.And for once, it doesn’t foreshadow any disaster.Brianna is lying on the couch, fast asleep. Her expression is so serene it worries me. I step closer, placing two fingers on her neck to check if she’s still alive, and let out a sigh of relief wh
December 9thIf there’s one thing certain about my family, it’s that normality is definitely not for us. Especially when it comes to exchanging Christmas gifts. Why give serious things like underwear or socks when you can give quirky, out-of-the-ordinary, and morally questionable gifts? The beauty of having a family that is anything but uptight or close-minded is the ability to have fun without worrying about shocking or offending anyone. In fact, I used to be the one who was scandalized. Then I outgrew that phase.Ever since my cousin Jase and I started having our own money, exchanging gifts on Christmas Day has taken on a new meaning. In our family, we don’t compete to see who gives the most expensive gift but rather who gives the funniest one. Jase and I give gifts together, and every year we win the award for the best presents.Today's mission: come up with ideas so we know exactly what to buy.Technically,
December 8I close the front door after greeting the delivery driver. A couple of weeks ago, I used an app to print some photos, and they’ve finally arrived today. One of the things I miss most about living with my parents is flipping through the family photo albums every now and then. There are so many iconic pictures of me as a child, and I make sure my brother has his too because looking at them as adults is just amazing.I plan to make albums to keep in this house with photos of James and me, but he hasn’t even chosen his yet.I sit on the couch next to my boyfriend and show him the box in my hand. “Guess what I have here!”James glances at the package. “I hope there are embarrassing pictures of you on the potty because it’s not fair that you’ve seen mine and I haven’t seen yours.”“Point number one: It’s not my fault your parents didn’t grant you
December 7thI step into the house, leaving my jacket and shoes at the entrance. I greet James and head toward the kitchen, hiding my purchase behind my back. "Guess what I bought?"James is leaning against the counter, holding a cup of coffee in his hands. "Tell me it’s not another Christmas decoration," he pleads."Nope, better," I say, sitting at the table. "I bought a house."He chokes on his drink. "You bought what?"I snicker at his expression. "A house. I bought a house, not 'what'.""You... You bought... How... With what money..." He takes a deep breath, sets the cup on the counter, and sits across from me at the table. "Brianna, I think you owe me a few more details." He’s so shocked that he’s gone a little pale.At that point, I place my new purchase in front of us, revealing a gingerbread house kit to assemble and decorate.James looks at me, then at the box, and back to me. He&rsqu