The Christmas Theory

Jingle Belles and Silver Beaus

I was two seconds away from scrutinizing the meaning of it before James' dad forced a flute of golden champagne into my hands.

"I hear you have a job lined up for the new year," he said, patting my shoulder gently. "That's fantastic, Madison. You should be very proud."

I managed to thank him sheepishly, though I was slightly startled by the fact that he knew that information in the first place. Then again, I was surprised that he even remembered my name. I always took Mr. Bennet for someone whose catalog of acquaintances rivaled the length of Santa's naughty list, so the fact that he'd take the time to single me out in a room full of much more important people was an achievement all on its own.

I couldn't explain why, but it also made me emotional. Maybe it was the fatherly warmth that pooled in his sapphire gaze, or maybe it was the nod of approval he cast on me before stepping away to join his family, but that small moment with him went a long way in filling a void in my heart.

In some strange way, I knew it was the closest I'd ever come to hearing my own father say that he was proud of me.

I sipped on the glittering liquid while I watched my friends catch up with their families. I'd met the Bennet's before, so I was relatively familiar with their dynamic. Mrs. Bennet was the sweet and graceful mother hen, while James' dad was always the loudest and most charismatic person in any room. He boasted about his wife and son in a way that almost made easy-going James red in the face, but I knew that it was just a manifestation of his love and pride.

It probably would have made me jealous if I didn't like them all so much.

While Mr. Bennet regarded James pretty much as an equal, I could tell that Dex was always going to be his parents' little boy at any age. His mother, especially, couldn't stop fussing over him, unable to resist the urge to brush down his wild hair and dust the lint off his sweater. His father was also checking up on him in his own subtle way, making sure that he was indeed okay after our brush with death on the road.

I'm sure Dex loved that.

Only three of Noah's eight siblings were at the party, with the other five probably still too young to attend. But, suddenly, so much about my friend made sense. I understood exactly why he was the way he was. His siblings were so boisterous and lively that they demanded that same energy back, while his sports agent father was a lot more composed and refined. It was clear that Noah was forced into the role of a diplomat; the balancing-force between crazy and calm. Much like the role he'd taken on with Dex and James.

And, I guess, with me.

"Trust my cousin to bring the party to a party," a slick voice brushed against my ear.

I turned with a start, only to be drawn in by a pair of sparkling blue eyes.

An unfamiliar boy was savoring a sip of his pink cocktail behind me, a knowing expression teasing the faultless contours of his face. His eyelids were coated in glimmering pastel purple eyeshadow, his neck, wrists, and ears adorned in ornate silver trinkets that shimmered under the warm lights.

"You must be Madison," he purred, extending a ring-encrusted hand toward me.

I returned the gesture, his grip dainty and careful around mine. "That's right," I confirmed for the second time that evening, slightly embarrassed that I couldn't place his flawlessly-made-up face in my mind. I really should have asked my friends for a run-down of the guest list before attending a function with basically every person they knew.

But the stranger wasn't offended. His glossy smile only widened as I continued to search his face.

"Are you Dex's cousin?" I prodded.