Roommates with a Player

Chapter Thirty Five: You Better Not Cry, You Better Not Pout [CHRISTMAS SPECIAL]

            It was bright in my room when I woke up. I think it was because I forgot to pull the drapes over the windows last night, but maybe it was just my bright pink room still toying with my eyes again.

            I gave a sigh and rubbed my eyes, trying to make them adjust faster to the morning light. My vision slowly focused on my messy room. Clothes were strewn about, along with my dress from last night, which sat in a pathetic heap at the edge of my bed. Textbooks and homework from the first semester of school collected dust on my desk; I’d forgotten to put them away for the two-week break, but now I was just too lazy to actually stuff them in some drawer. Actually being able to take in my whole room, I realized I was kind of a slob.

            It was surprisingly cold in my room. I wiggled around in the sheets and realized I’d passed out last night with just my underwear, bra, and socks on. Huh, guess I was too exhausted to physically take the time to undress correctly.

            Last night was a blurry memory. I’m pretty sure I didn’t drink anything alcoholic last night. I didn’t have too much sugar to eat. I didn’t hit my head on anything. After Riley and her family left, I don’t think I stayed downstairs much longer. Maybe I’m just so mentally tired with all this holiday crap and what not.

            Wait…holiday crap…

            “IT’S CHRISTMAS!” I screamed, jolting up from bed.

            Dark brown curls draped over my eyes and I pushed them away from my face. This was no time for hair fixing. It was Christmas, for Pete’s sake! I detangled myself from my covers and quickly found some pants and a shirt to slip on before I darted from my room and down the stairs.

            Was everyone already opening presents? Was I the first one to even set foot downstairs? Were there any gifts? Had Santa Claus decided not to visit? These questions swirled around my head as my feet pounded on the carpeted steps of the stairs. Too soon I reached the bottom and was greeted with the cinnamon scents of breakfast.

            Luna stood in the kitchen, a festive apron wrapped around her, whipping up breakfast for the family. Once again, Christmas tunes wafted from the speakers and the television was turned to the local news, which showed the snowed-in residents of the neighborhood. We hadn’t had a white Christmas in years, but I guess it was a miracle this year.

            “Emma! You’re up!” Michelle called, drawing my attention to my family who sat around the tree.

            “Merry Christmas, Emma,” Henry said as I walked closer.

            “You too,” I smiled.

            Henry, Michelle, Ricky, and Charlie were all dressed in ridiculous looking Christmas pajamas. You know, the kind your grandmother buys you. I couldn’t help but snort at now funny they looked.

            “What are you guys wearing?” I asked.

            “It’s a Stephens tradition! We do it every Christmas morning!” Michelle cooed. “I forgot to give you yours last night.”

            “Yeah. Tragic,” Ricky grumbled.

            I couldn’t help but feel happy knowing I wasn’t looking like a complete idiot on Christmas. And if we have to take pictures, I can actually post it on Facebook or keep it as blackmail if Ricky tries to pull anything over me.

            “Well, now that we’re all here, let’s get to opening these presents!” Michelle announced, throwing us all a present.