Page 53 of Christmas Crisis
My dad called out my sour face. “Since when do you act like Scrooge before he met the ghosts?” he asked.
I shrugged. It was the best I could do.
When we arrived, I saw that Marley and James were wearing candy cane onesies. Maureen had recently fallen hard for James’s friend Will, and the two of them were in a holly leaf pattern.
“Hey,” came from the living room, and my spine went rigid. I hadn’t heard Miranda’s voice since she’d ended our call less than a week ago. “Cool,” she said. “Ours are the same.”
She also wore a gingerbread men onesie. “I think Marley wanted even pairs,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.
As she stepped next to me, I saw the pleading on her face. She wanted things to be good between us. It was rare for me to get close enough to people that I could get hurt. But that was exactly how I’d felt when she hung up on me.
“That’s right,” Marley said, unaware of the undercurrent. “There were only four patterns and you guys are good friends, right? Good friends can be a pair.”
“Of course!” Miranda said brightly. I grunted.
After Marley took at least a hundred pictures of the eight of us in our matching outfits, I excused myself to get some air. James found me slumped in a patio chair.
“You alright, man?” he asked, handing me a mug of hot chocolate.
“Mm-hmm. Just thinking.”
“Are you thinking or brooding?”
I choked out a laugh. “Brooding? Am I a poet wandering the gray mists of the moors?”
“More like one of the sulky teenagers in my classroom.”
My jaw ticked. “Not brooding.”
He sat down in the chair next to mine. “Seriously. It’s not your style to be so out of sorts.”
“Probably just the holidays getting to me.”
His face scrunched up. “That’s not like you either.”
I took a sip of hot chocolate. Too sweet for my taste. “Leave it, little brother. Thanks for checking in, but I’m fine.”
Holding his drink with both hands, James sat quietly for a few beats before speaking again. “Just because I moved to Coleman Creek doesn’t mean we can’t still talk.”
Had he always been this relentless? I blamed Marley for bolstering his confidence. “I don’t need to talk. If something is bothering me—and I’m not saying there is—I’ll get over it.”
“Does it have to do with Marley’s sister?”
“Maureen?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
“Fine.” I scowled. “Miranda and I are having a difference of opinion at the moment. But don’t ask me for specifics because I can’t say.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
Although he didn’t press for more, most of the fight left me.
“You know she and I are really good friends?”
James chuckled wryly. “I’d say that’s a bit of an understatement. I’ve never seen you light up the way you do around Miranda.” There was a question in his words, but he didn’t ask it directly.
My asexuality was something I’d never discussed with my family. Over the years, they’d gotten the memo not to question me about my love life or inquire whether I was dating anyone. I’d turned the conversation away from the topic enough times for them to understand it wasn’t something I would willingly discuss. I figured by now they might have guessed, but I had no way of knowing for sure.
