I write out a special card for him later on that night and leave it on his doormat, along with a tiny bag of my special home made Christmas cookies. I want to see if he'll accept them or not. I know he's not going home for the Christmas holidays, as like me he prefers to stay in his rented flat every year, so I know they won't go unnoticed. Still, he could just take the card and cookies inside and throw them away, but I'm sure he won't do this. He'll probably just leave them and the card on the doormat instead if he doesn't want them, so when I leave to get breakfast the next morning from the coffee shop in town you can imagine my surprise when I see that both the card and the cookies have gone. I had been so sure I would find them still sitting on the doormat this morning.
I'm smiling as I head to my favourite coffee shop for breakfast. I finally know what my next good deed of the year can be, and I make it my mission to try and pass on a little of my enthusiasm for Christmas.
While sitting in my usual coffee shop I jot down a short list of small items I can leave outside his door to help him get in the Christmas spirit. And for that next week, when I walk around all the Christmas shops and buy myself some new decorations for my Christmas tree, I leave a few extra decorations outside his front door. I don't know if he has a tree but I still buy him some colourful tinsel, which he can hang up in the flat if he doesn't have a tree, along with a tiny wreath which is dusted with fake snow and hangs on some string. I've hung my own small wreath up above my small mantelpiece and because it had looked incredibly cute and festive I knew I had to buy him one too.
After the decorations I leave him a bag of home made gingerbread men, covered in red and white icing to make them look even more festive. I love baking, especially around Christmas, and it's nice to share my special homemade biscuits and cookies with someone else for once.
None of my festive gifts end up being left on his doormat for those next few weeks, and it gives me a sense of accomplishment every time I leave my flat and see there's nothing still sitting on his doormat. Of course he could have simply taken them all inside and just thrown them away, but I have a strong feeling he hasn't.
As Christmas Day gets ever closer I continue leaving him home made biscuits and cakes outside his door, right up until Christmas Eve when I finally decide to kick my plan into high gear. After putting on some festive clothes I leave my flat and pay him a visit, with some mulled wine in my hands which I've made for both of us to share.
I only have to knock once before he opens the door. 'Hey, Ellis,' I say brightly. He doesn't look surprised to see me from the passive expression on his face, as I flash him one of my friendly smiles. It's as if he had expected me. 'I, uh, thought you might like a glass of mulled wine,' I tell him while holding up one of the small glasses I'm holding. 'I ended up making a little too much.'
He looks at me with those intense, brown eyes and I think he's going to turn me away, or shut the door in my face, but instead he gingerly invites me inside and after setting down the two glasses on his nice looking coffee table, I notice a cardboard box which is full of the few decorations I had left outside his door. The thought that he had kept the few decorations I had bought for him warms my heart, even if I am disappointed to see he hasn't hung up any of the colourful tinsel.
He motions for me to sit down on his plush, green sofa and I happily do, before I hand him his glass of mulled wine.
'I've never tried mulled wine before,' he says as he takes the glass and sits down next to me.
'Really?' I exclaim. 'It was always a tradition when I was still living with my parents.' I swirl the red liquid around in my glass before I hold it up, thinking we should do a toast first before tasting it.
'Merry Christmas, Ellis,' I say.
'Yeah. . . uh, Merry Christmas,' he says as he awkwardly clinks his glass against mine before we both take a sip of the warm liquid. I'm surprised by the sweet taste. I didn't think it would turn out so well and I quickly look at him to see his reaction. He idly licks his lips while raising his eyebrows a little.
'It's. . . pretty nice,' he admits and I smile happily. 'Though I'm not really surprised. You make pretty nice biscuits too.'
His kind words make my smile grow. 'Thank you,' I say, pleased he had actually tried them. 'I've always loved baking. It's nice to share what I make with someone other than myself,' I tell him as I take another sip of mulled wine, before I look over at the open cardboard box again. 'I'm pleased you kept the decorations I bought for you.'
He glances over at the box himself. 'You really didn't need to,' he tells me. 'But I appreciate the gesture.' He swirls his mulled wine around in his glass. 'I didn't really want to celebrate Christmas this year.'
'Why?' I ask him, keeping my voice gentle.
He pauses for a moment before taking a sip from his glass. 'Because of my mum,' he replies. 'She was diagnosed with breast cancer a year ago and has been in and out of hospital all year.'
'Oh, Ellis. . . I'm sorry. . . I didn't know,' I tell him. 'I wouldn't have given you all this stuff if I had.' The very last thing I wanted to do was to upset him. I just wanted to instill some Christmas spirit in him.
'You have no need to apologise, Joan. You were just being your happy and kind self. . . which is why I kept everything you gave me. You're the first person who's reached out to me since I started university.'
He turns to look at me and I flash him a soft smile, a little moved by his unexpected words. 'I'm glad I did,' I tell him before he sets his glass down and pulls out a few strips of tinsel from the open box. 'Will you help me to decorate the flat?' he asks me with a hopeful look in his eyes.
My plan had somehow worked. Not only have I managed to instill some Christmas spirit in him, I've also somehow brought us closer together, which I quickly discover after the Christmas holidays.
'Want a ride to campus, Joan?' he asks me one cold morning, the moment I step into the foyer where he's waiting for me, with a slight smile on his face
'Uh, sure,' I tell him with a smile of my own.
He starts giving me a ride to and from campus every day after that morning, and we even start spending time in each others' flats on occasional evenings, where we watch a random movie while gorging on microwaveable popcorn.
'This movie is so predictable,' he tells me as I reach for another handful of popcorn. 'You know she's going to end up with that guy's brother.'
I playfully chuck some popcorn at him. 'Thanks for ruining it for me,' I tease him with a chuckle.
'I'm just stating the obvious,' he says with a faint smirk.
It had been his idea to start this kind of annual activity just after the holidays, and I have a strong feeling I know why. Like me he longs for company, despite making other people believe that he prefers to be alone. Sharing a movie night together like this is what I've always wanted. I think it's what we've both always wanted. He's no longer pushing me away and we're quickly becoming fast friends.
I even manage to talk him into going with me to a party the student union is holding. And just like me he looks and feels out of place the moment we step into the lavishly decorated building with its colourful streamers and balloons.
'I didn't know you were so into parties,' he tells me as we stand together awkwardly by the drinks table, while other students laugh, chat and dance together.
'I'm not really,' I admit. 'But I thought I might enjoy it if I was with you.' I flash him a smile the moment his eyes meet mine and it's a smile I'm pleased to see him return, albeit incredibly briefly, before we watch one of the other students help themselves to a bottle of alcohol which sits on the drinks table.
We share an intrigued look. Neither of us have paid attention to the kinds of drinks which are sitting on the long drinks table.
'I didn't know they served alcohol at these things,' he says as he picks up the bottle of vodka and holds it up, while turning to look at me. 'Want to share some with me?'
We both gravitate over to a few of the empty chairs which sit against the wall, and for the rest of the night we end up downing one too many cups of straight vodka, which tastes incredibly cheap but is surprisingly very alcoholic, and it does more than just give us both a strong buzz.
'My dad used to be areal alcoholic,' Ellis mutters after downing his last glass of vodka. 'He always used to spend his nights at the bar. . . and would end up beating up my mum when he stumbled home. He even did it in front of my brother and I a few times too. . . that was before he finally took it too far one night and she ended up walking out on us.'
I fall silent as my fuzzy and hazy brain tries to take in what he's just told me, before he goes on to tell me how seeing his dad beat up his mum is actually his earliest memory.
'That's rough, Ellis,' I tell him, not knowing what else I can say. His story isn't much different to mine. 'My parents used to fight a lot in front of me when I was a kid too,' I explain. It's why I spent most of my childhood in between homes after they got divorced. It's not something any kid should have to deal with or witness, especially not at such a young age, so I can understand where he's coming from.
'What does your dad do now?' I ask him while looking down at my empty plastic cup.
'Um, I think he works as a freelance photojournalist,' he mutters. 'I'm not quite sure. The two of us haven't spoken in years.'
He looks across at me the moment he finishes speaking and I see a look in his eyes which I've never seen before. We've both shared extremely personal stories with each other tonight and a sense of solidarity seems to have suddenly formed between us. I've never told anyone about my difficult childhood and I'm sure Ellis hasn't told anyone about his own rough childhood either. I feel like we've become even closer tonight and I'm now pleased he had agreed to come to this party with me.
We're both more than a little hungover the next day, but we still manage to get through our classes. Rebecca manages to catch me before I can leave the campus and meet Ellis for coffee, and she asks me if I'm still joining her and her other friend, Susan, on their annual outing to the beach this weekend. I tell her I am, if only to please her, and she once again mentions, just like she did before the last house party she dragged me to, that I can bring a friend with me. I was already going to as I know I will only feel out of place again if I don't, which is why I ask Ellis if he'll come with me. But I can see he looks a little hesitant at the idea as he stirs milk into his black coffee. However, he still agrees to go with me just so I don't feel out of place, and even offers to drive us there as neither I nor Rebecca or Susan have a car of our own.
I introduce him to them the morning we set out for the beach. Despite knowing Rebecca I've only met Susan a couple of times, but I've still heard that she's a huge flirt when it comes to boys, and just like I had expected she immediately starts flirting with Ellis. I can't blame her as he is very attractive, but I quickly start to notice how uncomfortable he looks as Susan uses her pick-up skills on him, which leads me to quickly suggest that we had better get going or we'll never make it to the beach.
I sit with Ellis in the front and Rebecca and Susan bombard him with questions from where they're sitting in the back the moment we're on the road, wanting to know more about him, but though he mutters a few words here and there it's clear he doesn't like the attention he's receiving from them. And I can't blame him. Rebecca and Susan can be overbearing sometimes with their constant questioning, but they eventually fall asleep in the back of the car, having got up far too early for this road trip to the beach, and Ellis and I finally have some time to ourselves.
'I'm glad you chose to come,' I tell him as I do a quick profile sketch of him in my sketchbook, which sits open on my lap.
'Well, I knew you would only try and persuade me if I didn't,' he replies and I chuckle a little.
'We've become good friends, haven't we?' I point out. Months ago I wouldn't have thought I would be sitting here in this car with him on our way to the beach.
'I guess we have,' he agrees in a small voice, looking a little overwhelmed by the idea as he flicks the indicator down, and I suddenly finds myself wondering just how many friends he's had in his life. We may be good friends but there's still so much we don't know about each other. I know very little about his personal life, aside from the fact that he has a younger brother and his mum is in and out of hospital with breast cancer. I hope when we reach the beach that we'll be able to get to know each other better, without Rebecca and Susan constantly interrupting us.
'You have such a strong jawline. . .' I say thoughtfully as I carry on with my sketching. 'I've never sketched a guy with such a perfect profile before.' I see him glance at me. 'You don't mind me sketching you, do I?' I ask him when I see the frown on his face.
His frown melts away into a brief smile. 'Of course not. . . I find it kind of flattering actually,' he admits. 'No girl has ever told me I have a perfect profile before.'
We finally reach the quiet beach and quickly find an empty space on the sand. Ellis and I both help ourselves to the food Rebecca and Susan have brought with them, as we sit together on a large, picnic blanket, before I remember my instant camera which sits in my backpack. I haven't used it in years, not since I started university, but I feel like I should get some use out of it today as I start taking pictures of the beach. I'm pleased to see it still works as I slip each photograph I take into my backpack's front pocket. Of course, when Rebecca and Susan notice I've brought my camera with me they get me to take a few pictures of them, before they head down to the ocean in their bikinis. I then turn my camera on Ellis.
'Your turn, Ellis,' I tell him brightly, only for him to flinch a little at the flash as I press the shutter release. I pull out the picture and wait for it to develop, only to see how off centre it is. I frown at the outcome. I seem to have lost my knack for taking decent pictures. 'Here. . .' I say, handing him the camera. 'I was going to take a picture of myself. . . but I think you had better do it. You are a photographer after all.'
'I'm not that good at taking pictures of people,' he admits but still takes the camera from me, and as soon as he's holding it I angle my body a little more towards him, while tucking one side of my ginger hair behind my ear. He confidently raises it to his eyes and I give him a sweet smile as he takes my picture.
'Did it turn out alright?' I ask him as he looks at the now fully developed snapshot in his hand.
He simply nods and hands it to me. I excitedly take it and as I look at my smiling self in the perfectly framed snapshot I'm pleased he's managed to make me look pretty. I've always been average in the looks department, or so boys have told me before. But it's never bothered me. I know I'm still attractive in my own way.
'I think you were lying when you said you weren't good at photographing people,' I point out to him.
'I know the basics,' he explains while running a hand through his slightly windswept hair, but I can tell even he's impressed that the final shot turned out perfect. 'Though maybe it isn't surprising,' he continues. 'You're a very pretty girl after all, Joan.'
I feel my cheeks flush a little at his kind words.
'I'm surprised you haven't got a boyfriend,' he says as he hands the camera back to me.
I turn to look at him and when I see the unexpected flirtatious look in his brown eyes I give him a steady look. 'Listen, Ellis. . . it's not that I don't like you. I just don't feel that way-'
'No,' he quickly says, interrupting me before I can finish. 'I didn't mean it like that. I was just asking. I like you as a friend, Joan. That's all.'
I blink at him before I look down at the camera in my hands. 'Good. . . because I don't want us to ruin our friendship,' I tell him in a small voice.
'Me neither,' he admits honestly.
'Good,' I repeat before we both sit in silence and watch Rebecca and Susan splash water at each other and laugh like children.