What The People Don't See

Fake You Out

"Stella, Stella, wake up wake up wake up!"

"Fuck off, Calum...I'm sleepy..."

"It's not Calum, you turd! It's me and we're running late!"

"You?"

"Yeah me!"

"You who?"

"Yoo hoo big summah blowout!"

I started to giggle as I attempted to open my eyes, blinking in the blinding light that greeted me. For a split second, I thought I was on an operating table, the light was so ultraviolet. I felt a heavy weight pressing on my chest and I blinked a few more times, a shady silhouette appearing like a mirage. I groped around the bed covers but what I was searching for was handed right to me and I slid my glasses on. Bug - like blue eyes, honey coloured skin, a cheeky grin. I gasped.

"Toby! Get the fuck off of me, you little freak! You're not to come into my room!"

My brother yawned as if bored by the whole ordeal. He leaned over towards my bedside locker and grabbed my calender, shaking it's unmarked pages in my face.

"It's the 13th...the date we picked for tree sneaking this year, remember? And it's already half six so we need to move our bums before mummy and dad wake up."

My mouth fell open in a perfect 'o'. Tree sneaking. Our annual festivity. I'd forgotten all about it.

Toby and I had the utter misfortune of having parents who believed it was perfectly acceptable to put the Christmas tree up on Christmas Eve and take it down on Stephen's night. We understood that it was part of some people's cultures, and it would've probably been almost okay if not everyone we knew had their trees up by the end of November. The jealousy I used to feel when I was little, visiting friends houses after school and seeing all of their decorations already laid out, as if Christmas was just a day away.

Once Toby was old enough to understand what Christmas even was, we decided that we weren't going to put up with that kind of bull anymore. So we took matters into our own hands, choosing a different date every year in which we put up the tree and all of the decorations before Mum and Dad had even woken up. They never protested to this ritual; a part of my thought that they were just too lazy to get everything sorted themselves.

"I'll head on up first; you patrol. Got the flashlight?"

Toby flicked it twice in answer, blinding me again. White lights danced across my vision but any signs of tiredness had slipped away. I was wide awake, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

I dashed up the second flight of stairs in our house, up to the second floor that really had no use except for storing all our old junk. There was one room though, that held stuff so important to my parents, it was practically gold dust. All of their old band stuff; everything ranging from cassettes and vinyl, to faded photographs and my mum's first fender. The Repeats. The coolest rock n' roll band to ever exist. That room held all of their biggest wishes and regrets. They'd been living the dream. A dream they'd had to shun and lock away once they found out they were expecting me. Screwball Stella, always getting in the way...

After a lot of huffing and puffing, (and a few near death experiences) we had the tree in place. We stood admiring it's bare branches, both giddy about how it'd look once we got our hands on the baubles box. Toby stifled a yawn, and routed around for our stockings, pulling out a long string of outdoor lights. He tossed then in my direction and they landed with a thump by my feet.

"No way" I hissed, glaring down at the string of fluorescent bulbs. They were evil, I swore they were. "I did the lights last year Tobz, I'm not doing them again!" Last year, they'd refused to cooperate, tangling up in my hair, and even giving me a little electric shock.