Cliché with a player

Chapter 40 - Christmas star

Few years later

It's Christmas. My mind is overwhelmed with the list of things to do and the anxiousness of my roommate doesn't help one bit.

He's all over the place, uneasy but efficient.

"Max, chill," beckons Tina. Max joins her by the table where she's rolling the dough for her delicious apple stuffed pockets.

Before he helps her, he turns to me and winks flirtatiously. I laugh, giving him a peck on the lips.

It's Christmas.

As I venture out onto the street to buy the star for atop of our tree — which Tina accidentally broke yesterday — my mind tugs at a memory hidden far away from my consciousness.

"Merry Christmas, Darling."

I shake my thoughts of him and continue past all the stores, richly decorated for the upcoming holiday.

This city is so much different than the one I grew up in. The people, the streets, the vibrant life...

I breathe in a lungful of air, exhaling what seem to be all my worries.

~~~

The sun set hours ago but I still lay awake in Max's and my bed. Memories from earlier don't let me sleep or rest — they demand my full attention.

I haven't heard from Ness in...two years I think, since she moved across the country for a job, and Dan hasn't stopped by in about eight months. He's the only one I have semi-regular contacts with.

High school romances usually don't last long, so theirs didn't either.

They had discussed studying in the same city or somewhere close to each other, but it all went down the drain when their dream colleges turned out to be a five-hour flight apart. They tried long distance — really damn hard — and it didn't work out.

It's tough to love someone from afar without your thoughts interfering with it.

I didn't blame anyone for losing contacts, because I haven't made any more effort than them. People grow apart after high school. I know if I ever see any of them again, we'll greet each other with happiness and of course go out for a drink, we just aren't as good friends as we used to be.

From what I know Myles and Irina have been together since her third year of high school. I occasionally go out for coffee with them since they live in the city.

Wylan and Noah stayed close to home, only moving houses, not cities like the rest of us.

I couldn't take it anymore so I fled.

College was a welcome change, a relief from the pain and suffering that, before, only ceased when I was with Matt, running away from our problems.

I realise now that was not the way to deal with things. Sure, I needed it and I am thankful to him for taking me away, giving me one of the most beautiful weekends of my life, but I should've talked to my family first, resolve the issues that drove me away in the first place.

I never quite did that.

After we returned, our mothers were furious with worry. We both got long, separate and joined lectures about our reckless behaviour and how they had called the police, being worried sick about us.

It never got past that. I never told anyone about how trapped I had felt and I never told Mom what I felt regarding Dad, her, their divorce, anything.

It's all still buried deep inside me, however, I am working on that with my therapist.

Dad got sentenced to three years in prison and got out a week before my 21st birthday. He hadn't tried to contact me or Andrew, he left Mom alone — last I heard of he moved upstate. That is all I want to know, I don't need anything else. My closure has a different appearance than him making amends and being in my life again.

About what happened at that picnic...I don't think I'll ever be ready to discuss that with anyone outside the people who were there. Even Max does know that bit of my history.

Mom died two years ago. Her heart gave out. She died a peaceful death, but how can a death be peaceful when her life was anything but?

Anyway, she's at rest now, without any worries. Finally.

The funeral was also the last time I'd seen Andrew. Our relationship got better after we both got out of high school, though we never managed to repair it past a certain point.

He fell in a deep hole of addictions, ranging from drugs to alcohol, and I'd tried to help him for two years, until Matt had enough of him using me and gave him an ultimatum. He either got better or he wouldn't be able to live with us anymore.

My brother had really tried, but the past was haunting him way more than it did me and he gave in.

I hoped every night I would get to see him again someday and it wouldn't be on his deathbed.

Mom's passing also gave me a lot of time to think about my biological mother. She gave me some pictures before she died along with some basic information about her should I ever want to know more. So far I've chosen to leave that as it is as well.

I hardly need any new wounds opening up.