Page 22 of Back Home For Christmas

The next morning, I woke up in the dense fog of a hangover, regretting all my life choices.

“That was really dumb,” I said to myself as I rolled out of bed. On my nightstand someone put a glass of water with lemon and two Tylenol. Only four people had access to this room and all four of them were just as unlikely culprits of a good deed as the next. But I threw Tylenol back and swigged some water, thankful for my mystery savior. I pulled open my bedroom door before remembering that I was avoiding just about everyone. No one was in the hallway, which was good because I was sure I looked as haggard as I felt. And I was in no condition to interact with anyone. Certainly not in my oversized Rudolph the red nose reindeer tee.

I walked through the hall as quietly as possible, which wasn’t quiet at all, when Jay’s door opened.

“Oh god please have mercy,” I said, pulling at the hem of my shirt while running a hand through my hair.

“How’s the hangover?” He asked. I sneered at his perfection. He must have woken up at dawn to shower and get ready for the day, so his perfectly tousled hair looked effortless.

I grumbled in his direction. How had I found myself in the tight hallway with him again?

“That bad?” He asked.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“Should I not be?”

“No, of course not,” I said. “Not only did I just wake up, in my own house, which should be a mock free zone, but if we could just pretend the other didn’t exist, that would make life so much easier.”

“Easier?”

“Oh, my god. What is with the one-word answers?” I asked.

“Make up your mind. First, you don’t want me to talk. Now I am not saying enough. Maybe you should figure out what you want Cat Scratch before you start demand things of people.”

“I know exactly what I want,” I said, closing the gap between us and pointing a finger in his face.

“And what exactly is that?” he grabbed my hand and brought it down forcefully by my side as he used his hulking form to walk me backward across the hall until I couldn’t retreat further, and my back was against the far wall. I let out a surprised yip. “Well, Kitty Cat? What do you want?”

Even if I hadn’t been completely distracted by his physical presence, I still don’t think I would know how to answer. Despite the bravado of my previous answer, it was a complicated question. I’m sure I could have come up with something to say, but not one I was comfortable sharing with Jay. Back in high school, I could have answered easily, now not so much, and I was done being vulnerable with Jay. Jay wanted to intimidate and antagonize me like he always did.

“What I want is none of your business,” I said, lifting my chin defiantly. He lifted the hand that wasn’t still holding my wrist and clasped my chin.

“Do you want Steve?”

“No,” I said. He held me there for several seconds as my head throbbed and my heart thundered. “Are you gonna let me shower?”

He stepped away so abruptly I almost fell and despite my intense hatred, I felt the absence of his body acutely.

When I finally got out of the shower, the house was empty as far as I could tell. I got dressed, made a coffee and walked to the booth, debating if I should tell Jenna that I kissed Jay. My gut instinct told me that I absolutely could not utter those words to another living soul. Jay Crowley has been my enemy for most of my life, and for good reason. His rugged good looks may have momentarily caused a frontal cortex lobotomy during an already vulnerable drunken episode, but he was not the kind of guy I wanted to be with.

For one, hooking up with me would be like some sort of macho bragging rights bullshit. He had never had any feelings for me other than a mix of indifference, disdain, and mocking amusement. I was absolutely positive that I would be another notch in his stupid designer belt that he could laugh about. “Hey bros, can you believe that Cat threw herself at me?” Ugh, the thought renewed my struggle to go on living.

Second, he was not a good person. He had the values of a Wall Street bro mixed with a quarterback who peaked in high school. He only cared about things that provided value in some way for him. There wasn’t an altruistic bone in his body. When I was a Girl Scout for half a second at my mother’s insistence, he followed me around as I went door to door with my little wagon and stole cookies when I wasn’t looking. In the end, I went crying to my mom who made his dad pay for all the eaten boxes, so maybe it turned out alright for me in the end, but still. Who steals Girl Scout cookies?

He wasn’t the type of guy I wanted to associate with, and that was final. I pulled open the door to the shop, determined to get the supplies I had intended to get the day before, when I ran head long into my brother, who seemed to be moving at a frantic pace of his own.

“Jesus, Darren, you scared me,” I said. Darren stepped back out of the doorway to let me in.

“Nice of you to show up,” he said. I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

“Are we ever going to talk about Aubrey?” I asked. I didn’t want to be derailed from my purpose of kicking Jay’s ass at decorating and sales, but Darren’s obnoxious dating life was really bugging me.

“There is nothing to talk about,” he said.

“You were making out with my high school bully and Jay’s ex long-term girlfriend in the supply closet. I think that might be worth a quick convo,” I said.

He took in a long breath before sighing it out, “I knew exactly how you would react to me dating Aubrey, so forgive me for not wanting to deal with your judgmental bullshit right now.”

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