the first one • j. hughes

39

Age 15:

Christmas was always huge for our family. The house was always decked out. Inside and out. The Hughes would stay with us for a few days. It was always perfect. Without fail, always the best. Even better than summer.

I was bundled up on the couch, a fire in the fireplace. The stockings were pinned as close as possible to the mantle because of how many there had to be. The giant tree Dad always insisted on was covered with tinsel, colorful lights, and almost exclusively handmade ornaments. Unless they were gifts or milestone ones.

My hot cocoa was still too hot to drink. The whipped cream covered in cracked peppermint pieces was melting into it. I was doing sudoku puzzles. Everyone else had already gone to sleep. Well, the kids had. The parents were waiting for all of us to be at least upstairs. Dad refused to do anything but put out the Santa presents and make it look like he ate the milk and cookies we put out.

"Hey," Jack said, scaring the shit out of me. I must have flinched or something because he was smiling already when I looked at him.

"Why are you up?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Why are you?"

I shrugged and went back to my puzzle. I needed to figure out the nines, there was only one on the whole board. Problems kept popping up and I was getting a little frustrated. Jack was leaning on the armrest of the couch, the complete opposite side from me.

"So what'd you get me?" He said.

"Can't tell you," I mumbled out, erasing another fuck up.

As I blew the eraser bits off the page, he kept talking. "I'll tell you what I got you if you tell me what you got me."

"What if I didn't get you anything?" I joked dryly.

"No way you didn't," he said. "I've been on the nice list all year."

"Well, I'm not Santa," I said.

"Why are you in a mood? It's Christmas Eve," he snapped.

I huffed and closed the book. Admittedly, it was more of a slam. More of a smashing it closed and throwing it on the coffee table. It bumped into my hot cocoa, making some of it slosh over the side and onto the table. I let out a few bad words and prayed Santa wouldn't change his lists because of it.

"Jesus, Kennedy," Jack whispered harshly. "Be careful."

"You're the one in a mood," I said. "More like a mood swing. God, are you on your period or something?"

Okay, yeah. That was a rough comment from fifteen-year-old me. But, I was actually on my period. And had been dealing with the PMS bullshit. It was the second day of my period, always my worst day. The puzzles frustrated me and now Jack was.

"Your mom would kill you if she heard you say something like that," Jack said.

I rolled my eyes. "Good thing I don't see her anywhere around, right?"

"You'd probably like it if she wasn't around, huh?" His glare turned into a bit of a surprised look.

"What did you just say to me?" I mumbled. I hadn't told anyone, not even Luke, that me and Mom had been arguing a bit more often. Ever since me and Holly had our month-long civil war in November, it was like it switched over to me and Mom not being able to stand each other.

"Nothing. Forget it," he said quickly.

As quickly as he had spit those words out, I stood up. I accidentally pushed the table forward with my legs as I stood. In the most cartoonish incident, the mug toppled over onto my sudoku book and soaked it in chocolate. Then, the mug rolled off of it and the table. The shattering of glass on hardwood floor rang around the room.

I froze. Just completely froze up. That was my mother's favorite mug. Now it's in pieces. I could hear Jack rushing to the kitchen and back with paper towels. He started trying to save my book. I stepped around him and the table numbly. Toward the pieces.

Jack said something. Angrily. I couldn't focus on anything but how bad this was going to be for me. It wasn't even a small break that could be glued back together. Even if it was, it wouldn't be the same. She'd still be mad at me.

I grabbed a piece of the cup and placed it on the table. Then another. And another. And when I reached for the next one, I grabbed it wrong. Not gently enough. I hissed and dropped it and it broke even further. I got back up and Jack was looking at me in disbelief.

"I fucking told you to grab the broom and dustpan to take care of that," he said.

My eyes narrowed into a glare. "I'm bleeding and you're getting mad at me?"

"I'm mad at you because you were in a mood. Took it out on me." He paused to shake his head. "The cup broke because of you. It's your fault you got cut."

"It's all always my fault, isn't it?" I spit out, holding my finger.

He set the paper towels down on the table and took a step toward me. The lights from the tree danced around his face while he moved. "Nobody has ever said that."

"You literally blamed everything that happened in the past twenty minutes on me," I said slowly.

"That doesn't mean it's all always your fault," he argued. "But yeah, Ken, the fact that you're bleeding is because of you. Let me go get you a bandaid."

"No, I don't want your help."

He took a step back. "Fine. Don't let me help you. Sit in your little pity party and let me fucking clean up your mess."

"Fine!" I nearly shouted it and then stormed out.

* * * * *

"Oh, this one's from Jack, Kenny honey," Dad said, passing a gift to me. Luke and I sat side by side like every Christmas. My legs crisscrossed with my knee on his thigh.

I didn't even look at Jack as I opened it. It was a small jewelry box. Part of me wanted to set it back down without even looking at it. But I didn't. I opened it to see a ring. A pretty thing band, a dark blue stone in the middle. I took it out of the box and noticed the band was engraved on the inside. "J&K 2010".

Quinn laughed, he was on the couch behind me. "What? The plastic Walmart ring wasn't good enough anymore?"

"Guess not," Jack mumbled sourly.

"That's very nice, J," Mom said. I couldn't take my eyes off the ring but could feel her gaze turn onto me. "Ken, aren't you going to say thank you? Or anything?"

"I... have to pee," I whispered, hoping my voice didn't break like the mug. And then I rushed to the bathroom to replace my bandaid and slide the ring onto my ring finger. Because where else would it go? Where else would it fit perfectly?