Page 72 of Hostile for the Holidays

Should I care about a fourteen-year-old drawing that isn’t even as good as I remember it being?

Probably not.

But it’s not about the drawing. It’s how cruel Jasper had been. And how his opinion, whether I wanted it to affect me or not, shaped how I saw myself as an artist. How at twelve years old, a time in life where one’s sense of self-worth is fragileand taking shape, yet one’s self-esteem is most often laid in the hands of peers that are struggling to find their own sense of self.

That moment with Jasper and my drawing, willing or not, is a core memory.

Jasper, bare and gently pressing himself inside me for the first time, is, too.

Fuck. How did everything go sideways so fast?

More tears cascade down my cheeks.

“Oh, Stella.” Sadie throws her arms around me. “It’s okay, we’ll figure out the seating chart.”

“It’s not that,” I sob. “I mean this in the nicest way, Sadie, but I don’t give a fuck about the seating chart. I just had a fight with Jasper. And we had sex. It was unbelievable. Like life altering because not only did I come but I think I might be in love with him but then he hurt me.”

“What?!” She rears back, eyes ablaze with rage. “Are you serious? Where? How? I will fucking murder him. They’ll never find his body.”

“No, he didn’t physically hurt me. Emotionally.” I press a hand to my chest. “My heart.”

She wraps me in her arms and rocks me soothingly while I cry.

Jasper framing my drawing. Finding out it was never destroyed and he had it all these years. His feelings for me and the fact that he was never really competing but only wanting me to see him. And I did see him. There were moments over the years where I wondered if there was something more between us but then we’d be right back to fighting and I’d feel silly for letting myself think that.

Because the truth is, over the last twenty years, through our rivalry and competitions, I’d slowly given him pieces of myself.

And tonight, I’d given him everything, only to be left with a bruised heart.

TWENTY-FIVE

STELLA

Sadie and Tom’swedding is pure magic. Nestled in a rustic lodge surrounded by snow-covered pine trees overlooking Snowcap Lake, the reception tables and dance floor are draped in a canopy of twinkling lights and crystal chandeliers that look like dripping icicles. The tables are adorned with vintage candle holders and centerpiece arrangements of sugared berries, winter florals, and succulents.

I lift the frosted lowball glass I’m sipping cognac from and let the notes of vanilla, spice, and caramel dance on my tongue before burning their way down my throat. I don’t even know where I got this drink from. One of Tom’s parents’ friends was drinking it and suggested I give it a try. I figured I had nothing to lose at this point.

With Jasper not in attendance, Sadie said fuck it, kept the seating chart as it was, and left his seat empty. I know she thought he would show. Make some grand gesture and declaration of love, but I reminded her that he already did that on our front lawn and I pelted him with snowballs in return.

I brought Gideon, the Christmas gnome that Jasper bought me at the tree farm craft market, as my emotional support gnome and sat him on the table beside me. When I sense peopleattempting to come up to talk to me, I start feeding Gideon cake and that seems to keep them from stopping.

“Hey, Stella.”

I look up to find Daniel standing at the table. I guess Gideon didn’t do the trick.

“I’m here to check on you.”

“That’s nice,” I say, noticing my words are starting to blend together, so I push the cognac glass away. “Thank you.”

“Full disclosure. Sadie asked me to. I’m with Cady now, so I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

I have to laugh at the irony in his statement.

“Oh, right. You and Cady. That’s great.”

“I know it seems sudden, but when you know, you know.”

My thoughts wander to Jasper. Or you think you know and everything is completely different than what you thought.

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