Chapter 12 | Why Are You Touching Each Other?
“Close your eyes and pretend it’s all a bad dream. That’s how I get by.” ― Jack Sparrow
On Christmas morning, I wake up to the sound of my stupid iPhone ringing loudly in my ear. I’m tempted to just ignore it because I’m about 99% sure that it’s no one or nothing important. Then again though, it might be, so I roll over in my bed and fish it from underneath my pillow, about to answer it. Before I can though, it stops ringing, meaning I’ve missed the call. I put it down because I’m sure if it were really that important, they’d just call back or leave a voicemail or something.
I roll back over in my bed, in the hopes of getting at least a few more hours of sleep before I actually get up. Usually, I’m up at the crack of dawn on Christmas, but not this year because I’m just so incredibly tired. Last night, I went to the movies and then bowling with Graham, Aspen and Beckett. Originally, it was going to be just Aspen, Graham and me but then Beckett found out we were going and forced us to let him come with us. I’m not quite sure if he wanted to go just to be super overbearing and overprotective, as usual, or if he just wanted to spend time with Aspen, but I’m assuming it was the former. Maybe not though, but I think that he actually likes Aspen. Anyway though, we didn’t leave the bowling alley until like, 2 in the morning (I have no idea why it stays open so late) so that’s why I’m tired.
Despite the fact that I’m super tired though, I’m really excited about it being Christmas today. I didn’t ask for anything in particular and my mother isn’t here for the fourth Christmas in a row, but still, I’m excited. For the past three years, she’s had to work Christmases and this year isn’t any different at all. Though instead of being at the office of her work, my mom isn’t even in the country. She’s in Australia on business and has been for about a week now but she said that she’d be back before the New Year. She invited Beckett and me to come down to Australia with her, so the three of us wouldn’t be apart but we rejected that offer, obviously.
After lying there in my bed for about ten minutes, I realize that sleep isn’t going to come back to me anytime soon, so I decide to just get up. I get out of my bed and then leave my bedroom, going to the bathroom. In the bathroom, I brush my teeth and wash my face, pulling my hair into a messy bun before walking out.
I make my way down the hallway, heading towards the guest room, which is where Aspen is sleeping. As I’m walking, I hear Beckett and Brett downstairs in the living room, screaming profanities back and forth at each other. I’m not surprised though because they’re stupid and that’s just what they do when they’re playing video games together, which is basically all the time. I have no clue why Brett is even here on Christmas but I wish he’d just go away because I just don’t like him.
When I get to the guest room, I raise my hand to turn the knob and go in but stop when I hear Aspen talking and she doesn’t sound very happy. “She’s miserable!”
“And you think that I’m not miserable?” Another voice exclaims then. I place it as Jason’s and it sounds like it’s coming from like, a phone on speaker or something.
“No, I actually don’t think that you are,” Aspen snaps then. “And if you are, just stop it because you have no reason to be angry—you’re the one who ended things!”
“Aspen, do we really have to do this on Christmas?” Jason asks her with a sigh. I can barely hear his voice because it’s really muffled but I think that’s what I hear.
“Yeah, Jason, we really have to do this on Christmas,” Aspen replies, mocking his voice.
“Look,” Jason sighs again. “I’m sorry that I hurt Piper, okay? That really wasn’t my intent—”
“Did you cheat on her again?” Aspen demands, cutting him off.
“No, I didn’t cheat on her again,” He assures her after an awkward silence.
“Are you lying? Because it sounds like you’re lying,” She says in response.
“I’m not lying,” Jason refutes and it’s kinda obvious that he’s not being fictitious.
“Then what other reason could you possibly have for breaking my best friend’s heart one week before Christmas?”
“I’m not discussing this with you, Aspen. It’s just none of your business, so just back off, okay? I gotta go,” He says.
“Jason Bradley, I swear to God, if you hang up this phone right now, the next time you’re in Andover, I will find you. I will find you and I will kick you so hard in your family jewels that your future grandsons will feel it,” She promises him. I don’t doubt that she’ll do it either because she can be scarily terrifying when she wants to.
“You’re so dramatic,” Jason scoffs, obviously not believing her.
“I’m so serious,” Aspen corrects. “You’re lucky to have a girlfriend like Piper, which is why I don’t understand why you continually fuck it all up,” She irritably snaps.
“Don’t try to turn it around on me,” Jason rebuts, his tone changing from bored and annoyed to irritated and aggravated in about five seconds flat. “That’s not fair.”
“Life’s not fair, Jason,” She deadpans. “And what’s that supposed to mean? I slept with you once and it was like, nine months ago—you cannot blame this on me!”
“What am I supposed to do, huh, Aspen? What is it that you want me to do? Just tell me because I’m not understanding the point of this redundant conversation.”
“You’re supposed to stop being dumb and you’re supposed to tell her that you love her and that you’re gonna make it okay and then you make it okay!” She yelps.
“Piper already knows that I love her,” He tells her, as if that should be obvious. “Seriously though, I have to go—it is Christmas and I have family to spend it with.”
“Okay, fine, spend Christmas with your family but if you don’t get to Andover by this time tomorrow, I’m going to drive down to Tewksbury, force you into the trunk of my car and make you talk to Piper,” She informs him matter-of-factly.
“You don’t scare me, Aspen,” Jason says.
“Well, I should, because I’m serious,” Aspen chimes.
“Bye Aspen,” He replies and then I hear the dial tone.
“Well, that was intense,” I note, walking into the bedroom then, making it known that I was eavesdropping.
“Finally, you’re awake—you sleep like a dead person,” Aspen tells me, putting her iPhone on the charger.
“I do not,” I scoff, shaking my head in disagreement at the ridiculous statement.
“You do—Brett and Beckett have been downstairs yelling at each other over some video game for a good hour and a half and you slept right through it,” She says. “Anyway, that was nothing. I was just trying to talk some sense into Jason’s unfathomably thick skull,” She explains then, sitting down on the already made up bed.
“You’re actually trying to get the two of them back together?” I ask, giving her an incredulous look as I lean against the wall. “But you hate Jason. Like, a whole lot.”
“While it is undeniably true that I hate Jason with every part of me, I love Piper and for some crazy reason, he makes her happy and she so deserves to be happy.”
“How incredibly philosophical of you,” I note.
“I know, right?” She replies, standing up from the bed and walking over to her luggage, which is waiting in the corner to be unpacked. “Dr. Burton says that too.”
Since the night of the football game (we won, by the way, the football team, I mean) a little over a week ago, Aspen’s been staying here at my house. She’s only been home once and that was just to get all of the clothes and stuff that she could pack up in a couple of hours while her parents were at work and her siblings were at school. I don’t know how but she managed to find her car keys too, so she now has her car back as well. She even brought her adorable little puppy, Zoe, too, which I’m happy about because I love Zoe so much. She’s kind of hyperactive but lovely, nonetheless.
Her parents apparently didn’t like the way that she was basically ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be grounded and they told her that if she wanted to live in their house, then she had to live by their rules. So, she moved out. I get it though because her parents have some pretty wacky rules, for not just Aspen, but all of their children. Her curfew is 10:30 (even though she hasn’t been in the house by that hour since like, eighth grade), she can’t have more than one friend at a time over, she can’t have any boys over, even if they’re just friends, and the list goes on and on and on. It’s ridiculous, actually. My mom said that she could stay here for as long as she wants to though, which was nice.
And if you’re wondering, Dr. Burton is Aspen’s psychiatrist. She’s been seeing her for about a week now and she sees her only twice a week, on Sundays and Thursdays. I wish my mom would let me do something like that but she obviously thinks that I’m too mentally unstable to function without daily therapy. She can deny it all that she wants but I know the truth.
Dr. Burton works at the same firm that Dr. Fontana does though and he’s the one that arranged for the two of them to start seeing each other. He offered to be her psychiatrist but they realized it might be a conflict of interest, seeing as how she was intimate with his son on a number of occasions and now hates him.
“Enough of the Pipson drama though,” She says, addressing them by their adorable couple name. “Merry Christmas!” Aspen exclaims, carefully pulling a medium sized box out of one of her suitcases and bringing it to me. I don’t know what she could have gotten me because literally, I didn’t ask anyone for anything this year.
“I told you that you didn’t have to get me anything,” I remind her with a small laugh, taking the pretty box from her and shaking it up a bit, trying to guess what it is.
“I know that but I also know that you got me something and I couldn’t let you get me something and not get you something,” Aspen defends. “Now go on, open it.”
“I guess that makes sense,” I reply, unwrapping it. When I get it unwrapped, I peer down in the box, somewhat confused. “Okay, it’s cute but what is it?” I wonder.
“It’s a cupcake kit, Sawyer!” She excitedly informs me then, reaching into the box and then pulling out a bag of sprinkles, shaking it in my face. “Don’t you love it?”
“I do,” I truthfully reply with a nod. “Are we making cupcakes?” I wonder as she sets the sprinkles back down into the box.
“Indeed we are,” Aspen confirms. “I think that after what happened last year at Sienna’s, we should stick to baking stuff.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I reply honestly with a laugh at the memory of Christmas Eve last year.
Piper, Aspen and I were over at Sienna’s house and there was this huge ice / snow storm thing. I mean, it was bad. Like, really, really bad. We all had our cars there with us but none of them were willing to risk driving in the weather, which was really terrible because we were starving.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Pizza Hut wasn’t delivering because of the weather and Sienna’s family’s chef had already gone home for the holidays. That being said, the four of us decided that we were going to try to make ourselves a pizza from scratch. It didn’t go very well at all. The dough was really weird and kept falling apart, there was way too much pepperoni and not enough tomato sauce and on top of all of that, none of us knew how long to keep it in the over. We ended up keeping it in there for way too long though but we didn’t know until the smoke alarms in the house were blazing and the fire department showed up. It was incredibly bad but it was incredibly fun day.
“I knew you would,” She chirps. “And I got you a real, actual present but I have to go pick it up because it’s being Aspen-fied right now,” Aspen explains to me.
“Pretending that Aspen-fied is actually a thing, okay,” I laugh. “And obviously, I got you something too but it’s downstairs.”
“Is it cake?” Aspen wonders hopefully. “Oh, I hope it’s cake,” She says. I mean, she likes sweets. Cakes, pies, you name it, she loves it.
“Sorry buddy, it isn’t cake,” I assure my best friend in faux sympathy.
“Oh well—downstairs we go,” She says in response, hooking her arm through mine as we leave the room and head down the stairs together.
As soon as Aspen and I enter the living room, there’s this ridiculously loud sound of what sounds like an explosion and on the TV screen, a car blows up.
“I don’t know why you keep embarrassing yourself, Brett—I’m going to win every single time, you may as well just accept that,” Beckett informs his friend.
“You just got lucky,” Brett murmurs, pushing some buttons on the controller that make the game scene thing on the TV go away and then he yawns loudly.
“Okay, sure, if that’s what you need to believe. The truth is, you just suck at that game,” He replies.
“Yeah, whatever,” Brett grumbles, pulling his phone from his pocket and doing something on it.
“Baby sister, there you are,” Beckett says, turning around and see Aspen and I standing there. “I was about to call an ambulance—you sleep like a dead person.”
“I told you!” Aspen exclaims, looking at me with a triumph look on her face as if she’s just proven Newton’s Law wrong or something.
“I do not,” I assure my brother, just like I assured Aspen. I mean, I’m a pretty light sleeper, I think, which is why my ringing phone is what woke me up just a bit ago.
“Merry Christmas, little one,” Beckett tells me, walking over to the pantry closet thing in the living room, which is where keep our toilet paper and stuff of that nature.
“Merry Christmas and as your gift to me, I think you should stop calling me stupid stuff like ‘baby sister’ and ‘little one’,” I say to him because it really is annoying.
“Sorry, you should have told me that before I bought you your actual present,” He replies in a faux regretful tone. Beckett steps back out of the pantry then and he has two gift bag type things in his hand, along with a sleeve holder thing that looks like it might hold a CD or DVD or something like that. He walks back over to me and Aspen leaves the room then, saying that she’s going to the kitchen to start on the cupcakes. “Open this one first,” Beckett says, handing me the smaller box.
It has like, a rectangular shape and it’s somewhat wide, so I don’t know what could possibly be in there but knowing Beckett, it’s something ridiculous and dumb.
I take the box from him and then quickly unwrap it, pulling the box open and then glaring at him when I read the name on it. “Pepper Spray? You got me a bottle Pepper Spray for Christmas?” I ask him incredulously, raising my eyebrows at him.
“No, I got you two bottles of Pepper Spray for Christmas,” He corrects, gesturing to a second bottle of spray.
“Gee, thanks, Beck—I’ve always wanted my own personal bottle of Pepper Spray and now I have two,” I sarcastically say.
“You’re going to college in about a year and a half and I won’t be there to protect you,” He defends. “Now, open this one.”
“If it’s a Taser, Beckett, I swear I’m going to use it on you right now,” I tell my brother half-seriously as he hands me the box.
“It’s not a Taser, you weirdo,” He laughs, holding the box of Pepper Spray bottles as I unwrap the second present from him.
“Oh my gosh,” I gasp when I see what’s in the box. “Is this a joke? Because if it is, it’s really not funny,” I say, looking at him.
“No, it’s not a joke, you said you wanted to go, didn’t you?” Beckett wonders, apparently confused by my reaction.
“Well, yeah but I think you’d actually get me tickets!” I exclaim, taking the five tickets out of the box and glancing down at the date on them, which is in June.
“Yeah, well, it’s kind of a present for me to because you have to use one of those tickets for me,” He explains then.
“Deal!” I squeal, giving my brother a hug because I’m so happy I could actually throw up.
He got me tickets for the Warped Tour, which I hinted at wanting to go to last summer. My mom wouldn’t let me though because the nearest venue was in Ohio and she didn’t think that I could drive to Ohio by myself, which was ridiculous then and is ridiculous now because I’m perfectly fine to drive alone across state lines. I mean, at least one of my friends would have gone with me, I know, but my mom didn’t think that mattered, I guess.
Anyway, if you don’t know what the Warped Tour is, it’s basically like, this touring music festival. Basically, a bunch of bands get together and they tour across the country for the entire summer and play at different venues and whatnot. I’ve honestly never heard of half the bands that play year to year but this year, We The Kings and Mayday Parade are both set to perform and I like both of them, so obviously, I’m excited about going.
“So, there’s one last thing,” Beckett informs me once I pull away from him, putting the tickets back in place for safe keeping because I don’t want to lose them.
“You got me something else?” I ask him curiously, raising my eyebrows. Last Christmas, he bought me pretzels for Christmas and that’s it, so I’m a bit surprised.
“Yeah and mom helped me make it before she left, so it’s kind of from her too,” He informs me, sitting down on the couch and gesturing for me to do the same.
Aspen comes back in the room then but she doesn’t stay for long, she just asks Brett to help her with the cupcakes, which he seems more than happy to do. Beckett goes over to DVD player that sits on the entertainment system and pushes the button to make it open before putting the in CD / DVD thing he was holding. After he pushes the tray back in, he hits play and then sits down beside me on the couch with the DVD remote, turning the volume up on the TV. The screen stays black for about a minute and a half and this intro music instrumental thing is playing but there’s nothing actually on the screen. I have no idea what it could be but here’s hoping that it’s a movie on DVD or something because as much as I love Netflix, it doesn’t have many good movies on it. TV shows, sure but not movies.
After the instrumental music goes off, two words fade onto the screen that read “For Sawyer”, which makes it clear that it’s not a DVD, which is okay because it kinda of seems better than that. Once the words fade away, the black screen cuts to a room that is a hospital room. I gather then that it’s from a video camera.
“Mommy!” I hear the voice of a small child say on screen, but I don’t see anyone, just the wall of a hospital room, at least, that’s what it looks like.
“Yes, Beckett?” My mom’s voice asks then and that’s when the image goes from a hospital wall to a younger version of my mom, laying in the hospital bed.
“What her name?” The little kid voice that I now know belongs to Beckett questions.
“Sawyer,” Our mom informs him in a sleepy voice. “Sawyer Annabelle Jameson.”
“Hi Sawyer,” Beckett says then and the screen shows little kid that’s obviously Beckett circa seventeen years ago. “I’m your big brother, Beckett. That’s our mommy,” He adds and then focuses the camera on our mom, who looks like she’s been run over by a truck, and then over to our dad. “And that’s our daddy.”
Then there’s video of baby me on the screen and it’s so cute that I almost can’t take it. I’m wrapped up in a blanket thing and I have this pink hat on my head, with my blonde hair poking from underneath it. I’m lying in a little plastic, clear box and it’s right beside my mom’s bed. Beckett pokes me a few times in the video in my little baby stomach and I guess it irritated me because I made this face that made it look like I was about to cry but then I didn’t. Then the video goes over to my dad and Beckett starts talking to him about if he’s happy that he has a daughter and a son now and my dad claims that he is. After that, the video fades away.
Then there’s the black screen again and it reads “10 Months” and there’s baby Sawyer again, only this time I’m a lot bigger, yet still super adorable, which is a given. I’m sitting in this very living room on the floor in a playpen and then I shakily stand to my little baby feet and take what I guess are my first two steps. My parents kind of go crazy in the background and then I fall down and start playing with my toys again. I assume that Beckett’s there in the playpen with me too because I keep trying to lick the video camera lens.
From there, the video has basically everything from my birth seventeen years ago up until my very first day of middle school. There’s my first Halloween (I was a pumpkin, apparently), Thanksgiving and Christmas. There’s my first day of pre-K, my first day of Kindergarten, me learning how to ride a bike without training wheels, my first days of first- fifth grade, a dance recital from when I was like, five and thought being a ballerina was what I wanted to do, a swim meet from when I was like, seven and I thought that being the next Michael Phelps was what I wanted to do and a gymnastics meet from when I was like nine and thought being the next Shawn Johnson was what I was destined to do. The video lasts for about fifteen minutes or so and when it’s over, I’m basically bawling because it’s so cute.
“Oh my gosh, it’s so adorable,” I wail, once the video goes off.
“Yeah, mom thought you’d like it,” Beckett explains to me then.
“I love it,” I correct him, wiping a few tears away. “My present for you is going to look like absolute crap next to that,” I tell him with a small laugh.
“No, it won’t,” Beckett assures me. “I really want it though, so go get it,” He urges, gesturing for me to leave and go get his present, which I do.
“Seriously, I want that video,” I inform him once I hand him his wrapped present.
“You can have it,” Beckett says. “We just needed to put all those home videos to use,” He explains, unwrapping his present. “Dude, this cost way more than the Pepper Spray,” Beckett tells me, his eyes widening in surprise as he unwraps his gift and then opens the box, pulling the actual present out and turning it on then.
“Does no one remember that I actually have a job?” I ask, remembering how my mom apparently forget that I actually do have stuff to do after school, like work.
“Yeah but I mean like, you work three days a week,” He reminds me. “How the hell did you afford a new iPad?” He questions.
“They’re really not that expensive,” I shrug, even though it was most expensive thing that I bought for anyone this Christmas, which is saying quite a bit, I think.
“That’s not true at all but because I really wanted this, I’m not going to dispute that,” He informs me. “You wanna try to Skype mom?” Beckett randomly wonders.
“Oh, yeah, we should probably do that,” I reply with a nod as he signs in to Skype—though I don’t know why he doesn’t Face Time her. Hopefully it’s not late there.
“Merry Christmas, babies,” Our mom greets chirpily, accepting the Skype call after it rings a few times. She looks pretty sleepy, so I guess it’s a bit late over there.
The conversation isn’t all that long, mostly because she has to go out for dinner with some of her colleagues in about half an hour and mostly because the connection keeps screwing up. I guess that’s what happens when you try to Skype someone who is on the other side of the world though.
After the Skype call is over, I’m about to go in the kitchen and assist Aspen with those cupcakes and also make sure that she and Brett aren’t like, having sex on the kitchen table or anything. I mean, yeah, she’s promising that she’s celibate now and as far as I know, she’s help up on the promise but I mean, the girl is only human, after all. Before I stand up though, there’s a rough knock on the front door and I assume that it’s Graham.
“I’ll get it,” Beckett says, standing up and leaving the room before I get the chance to say anything. While Beckett’s gone, I turn the TV away from the game channel and to a Christmas movie that’s playing. It’s Grandma Got Run Over By Reindeer, which I’ve seen so many times in my life but it’s a good, funny movie, so I don’t mind watching it just one more time. “No freaking way,” I hear Beckett announce from the front door and immediately, I start to panic, thinking that what creepy Kevin said is true and that it’s Flynn. I realize that that’s not possible though because if Flynn Decker was standing at our front door right now, Beckett would be trying to murder him, not talk to him and this is a fact. I have no reason to believe that Flynn is back in the States—I bet Kevin was just being creepy.
“Who is it?” I call to Beckett but he doesn’t hear me, I don’t think.
“Sawyer, look who’s here!” He exclaims, walking back into the room and my jaw metaphorically hits the floor when I see that’s not Flynn but Tom, aka, our father.
“Tom,” I say with a weird and surprised look on my face. “Um…what’re you doing here?” I wonder, not really knowing how I’m supposed to react to seeing him again.
“I’m here to spend Christmas with my kids, obviously,” He bellows happily. “Now, c’mon, don’t just sit there—come give me a hug, I haven’t see you in six years!”
Awkwardly, I stand up from my seat on the couch and walk over to my dad, hugging him. It’s really short and brief and not to mention awkward because as I’m sure you recall from our phone call a few months prior, my dad isn’t my biggest fan. For some reason though, Beckett seems like, overjoyed to have our dad here, which is ridiculous because he should be down in North Carolina in prison, not here ruining Christmas.
“Um, did grandma and granddad bail you out of jail?” I wonder.
“Let’s not talk about that, Sawyer—it’s Christmas, for Christ’s sake.” He replies. “Where’s your mom?” Tom asks us then.
“Um, she’s in Australia,” I mumble. “She won’t be back for a couple of days, actually, so you should probably go.” I advise.
“Go?” My dad echoes. “That’s ridiculous,” He laughs. “I’m not leaving, Sawyer—I’m home and I’m home for good,” He says.
“Well, mo—” I start to say but he cuts me off before I can finish my statement about how our mom will be absolutely pissed.
“So, tell me how you guys have been! What’s going on? Sawyer, is there beer here? Go get me something to drink,” He says.
“Um, no, there’s no beer, but okay,” I mumble before shuffling out of the room while Beckett and dad start talking about something.
I don’t know why he’s so happy to see him because it’s not like he’s just an amazing dad or anything. He’s actually probably right below the worst. Then again, I’m sure I only think of him that way because of the fact that he’s very fond of calling me by derogatory four-lettered words, which is just really rude and terrible of him. In the kitchen, I see that Brett and Aspen are still trying to figure the cupcake kit out, which is kind of weird because the instructions are really simple and needless.
“Who was at the door?” Aspen wonders cutting open a bag of frosting, eating some.
“Tom,” I mumble, walking over to the refrigerator and taking out a new bottle of water.
“Your dad is here?” She asks incredulously. “When did he even get out of jail?” She asks.
“I have no idea but it just put the biggest damper on Christmas ever,” I complain, leaving the kitchen and going back into the living room, handing him the water.
“So, Sawyer, do you have a boyfriend yet or are you still…what do you kids call it now? Playing the field?”
“Um, no,” I awkwardly reply, shaking my head. “I told you the last time that we talked that I don’t date,” I tell him.
“Oh, that’s right—I remember,” He replies. “That’s really weird and unusual for a girl your age, to not date.”
“Gee, thanks Tom,” I sardonically mumble, standing up and deciding that I don’t want to be in the room with him, so I go back to the kitchen to help Aspen out.
✿✿✿✿✿✿
“Are you sure you don’t want to come over?” I ask Piper about two hours later on the phone. “We have hot chocolate and cupcakes,” I tell her in a singsong voice.
“I’m not really in the mood for hot chocolate and cupcakes or happiness or anything in general,” She complains. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m okay,” Piper says.
“Well, how about Aspen and I come over there?” I suggest, desperate to get away from Tom, who has been here all but two hours and is already annoying me.
“No offense, but I’d rather you guys didn’t,” She replies apologetically. “I’m just going to take a sleeping pill and I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Merry Christmas.”
“Okay, well, Merry Christmas, Pipes,” I respond with a small sigh before ending the phone call and setting my phone down by me on the couch, crossing my arms.
I’m really having an awful time, now that Tom is here. I mean, I wasn’t having the time of my life or anything before he showed up but I was having a pretty nice time. Now I’m just super annoyed and irritated by his presence. Beckett, on the other hand, is ecstatic to have him back. I’m not quite sure why that is though—Tom is just a terrible person and an even worse father. Unfortunately for me though, I’m sitting in the living room, having to listen to the three of them (Tom, Brett and Beckett) talk about something—sports, I think—but I’m not really listening hard enough to know if that’s what they’re actually talking about.
Aspen’s upstairs talking to her parents about something or another. I’m sure they’re trying to convince her to come back home, which I hope she says no to because it’s pretty awesome, getting to live with your best friend for a little while, I think. Anyway though, Graham still hasn’t show up, which is kind of weird because I thought that he’d be here by now but obviously, he’s not. Hopefully, he’s still coming though. Last night, while were at the bowling alley together, he said he’d be here, so I’m assuming he’ll be here soon enough.
I get a text from Graham about half an hour later, saying that he’s outside, which I’m thankful for. As soon as I get the text, I spring up from the couch and exit the room, saying that I have to get the door. Aspen’s still upstairs, talking to her parents, which is weird because the longest that I’ve ever seen them talking was five, maybe ten minutes. Maybe.
When I reach the door, I pull it open and see Graham getting out of his car, walking around back to the trunk, taking two bags out. I also notice that not counting Graham’s car, there’s only four cars here—Beckett’s, Aspen’s, Brett's and mine. I thought Tom drove himself here, but I guess not. Another thing that I notice is how hard the snow is coming down now. I’m surprised that Graham was even able to drive over here in this crazy weather, but I’m glad he did.
“Hello,” I greet Graham with a small, friendly smile once he reaches the front door.
“Hey,” He replies with a grin. “Merry Christmas,” Graham adds.
“Merry Christmas,” I say in respond and because it’s just a little bit awkward, I lean forward and give him a friendly hug, a hug which he returns. “You didn’t bring Bono?” I wonder, referring to his gorgeous puppy as I invite him into the house and then close the front door shut behind him.
“Nope,” Graham answers, shaking his head. “I bought him a bunch of dog toys for Christmas and he didn’t want to leave, so I just left him there.”
“He’s so adorable,” I sigh in envy, wishing I had a puppy. Sadly, my mother just really isn’t keen on animals though and Beckett doesn’t like dogs.
“Except for when he pees on the carpet,” Graham notes.
“Is he not like, potty trained?” I ask him with a light laugh.
“He is, he’s just a weird dog and likes to be bad,” He explains as we walk back into the living room.
I’m about to lead him towards the kitchen, just so we don’t have to sit in here with Tom but before I do, Tom talks. “I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?”
With a sigh, I reply with, “Well, I don’t, th—” Before I can finish my statement though, he cuts me off, standing up from the couch, walking over to Graham and me.
“I’m Sawyer’s dad—Tom and you must be her boyfriend that she said she didn’t have,” Tom says, trying to be funny, I think, but failing because he’s just not funny.
“It’s nice to meet you—I’m Graham,” He replies politely, shaking Tom’s outstretched hand. “But Sawyer and I are just friends—we’re not dating,” Graham tells him.
“Well, that’s a relief because you look like an athlete and I think we all know that athletes only want one thing. Thank God Sawyer is smarter than that,” Tom says.
“Tom!” I exclaim, my face going bright red at his ridiculous insinuation.
“I think we both know it’s true, Sawyer,” Tom nonchalantly replies then.
“Why don’t you just go back to where you came from? You are obviously not wanted here,” I murmur, grabbing Graham’s forearm and leading him into the kitchen.
“I take it you and your dad aren’t close, huh?” Graham questions, sitting down on one of the bar stool chairs.
“Is it that obvious?” I query, walking over to the oven, taking out the cupcakes and bringing the muffin pan thing that they’re in over to the table before sitting down.
“Yeah, a little bit,” He confirms with a nod, setting the two bags from his trunk on the tabletop.
“I just wasn’t really expecting him to show up,” I admit. “And I don’t really like him that much.”
“Well, that’s understandable,” Graham replies. “I’m definitely not my father’s number one fan.”
“Yeah, dads are the worst,” I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “Do you want a cupcake?” I randomly ask. Surprisingly, Aspen and I didn’t even burn them.
“Sure,” Graham chuckles, taking one out of the pan and setting it on the table top. “But first,” He says, sliding the first of two bags over to me. “Merry Christmas.”
“I didn’t think that you were seriously gonna get me something,” I admit sheepishly, pushing a lock of my hair behind my ear, eying the gift bag that my present’s in.
“I told you I was,” Graham reminds me with a laugh. “This one is for you too but open that one first,” He replies, peeling back the paper on his cupcake and biting it.
“Oh my gosh,” I squeal, taking the first of two boxes out of the decorative bag. “Is this real life?” I wonder, looking over at Graham in awe. “This can’t be real life.”
“It’s real life,” Graham assures me with a grin. “Why, you don’t hate it, do you?” He wonders, raising his eyebrows in question.
“It’s a Sennelier l'Aquarelle French Artists' Watercolor Set, of course I don’t hate it!” I shrill, hugging the set close to me because I just can’t believe that I actually have one. Like, my own personal one that I get to use and don’t have to share with anyone ever. I mean, I’ve been asking my mom to buy me a set for like, the past two years and she always says that if she happens to be in Hobby Lobby and sees it, she’ll get it for me but she never did and I had a feeling that she never would, so I just kind of stopped asking. But now that I really have it, I’m so happy that I could actually burst out into tears of excitement right now. It’s that serious.
If you’re not an artist, I’m sure you can’t even begin to understand how amazing it is to have a freaking Sennelier l'Aquarelle French Artists' Watercolor Set, but I’ll tell you, it’s super amazing. Sennelier makes pretty much the best art materials ever, which is why they’re so disgustingly expensive. Clearly, they’re watercolors, but they aren’t just normal watercolors. It’s not like the Crayola stuff you can go pick up at Wal-Mart. It’s about a hundred thousand times higher quality than that.
“Good because that stuff is non-refundable,” Graham tells me with a grin as I reach down into the bag and pull out the second box there, which makes me gasp.
“Raphaël Kolinsky Round Watercolor Brushes?” I incredulously question, reading the name on the box.
Raphaël Kolinsky brushes are like, the highest quality type of paint brush that you can find anywhere. Basically, they’re the paintbrush equivalent to the Sennelier l’Aquarelle set. This is actually a big deal and if I didn’t care about embarrassing myself in front of Graham, I’d be bawling my heart out but since I don’t want him to make fun of me or anything, I don’t. “I really cannot even this.”
“Well, there’s just one more thing,” He informs me, standing up from his chair and walking around behind me. “And before you think that this is me like, making a pass on you or something, I should tell you that even from the Netherlands, Sienna knows how to nag someone. She called and said that if I didn’t get you some kind of jewelry, then I might as well not get you anything at all,” Graham says and I feel his hands in my hair, gently pulling it back before putting a necklace around my neck and clasping it at the back.
“That sounds like Sienna,” I reply with a small giggle, pulling my hair over the chain of the necklace and looking down at the pretty, silver pendant on the necklace.
“She was very adamant about getting something with a heart on it but I thought that’d be too…you know, romantic or whatever. So, I got that one because an elephant is basically the most platonic animal in the world,” He explains, referring to how the pendant on the necklace is an adorable little silver elephant thing.
“I love it,” I truthfully say, spinning around in my bar stool chair so that I’m facing Graham. “I love it all,” I correct, glancing up at him. “Thank you so much,” I add.
“Good—I was worried for a second that you’d hate it,” Graham tells me and I don’t know if it’s because of the Christmas spirit or what but I wanna hug him, so I do and he hugs me back.
“Why are you touching each other? And why are you alone?” Beckett suddenly demands, walking into the kitchen about two seconds later and being all weird.
“It’s called a hug, Beckett,” I tell my idiot brother, spinning around in my chair to face him after pulling away from Graham, who goes back over to his seat and sits.
“Yeah, well, I don’t like that,” He replies, crossing his arms across his chest and eyeing Graham like he’s some kind of sex offender. “C’mon back in here with us.”
“I don’t want to be around Tom, Beckett,” I complain with an annoyed sigh. “And besides, I was about to give Graham his present, so go away.” I tell him in reply.
“You don’t need to be alone to give Graham his present,” Beckett assures me. “C’mon, Sawyer, we haven’t seen dad in six whole years and now he’s back home.”
“I don’t like him, Beckett,” I stress to my brother, trying to get that through his skull. “I haven’t had a dad for six years and I am perfectly fine with not having one.”
“Stop being stubborn,” He demands. “Besides, Aspen’s done on the phone or whatever she was doing, so she’s in there too and dad wants to play Heads Up.”
“Tom wants to play Heads Up on Christmas?” I query, raising my eyebrows in question. “Who plays a board game on Christmas?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“It’s not a board game and we’re gonna play it, so stop being stubborn and move your little self in there,” Beckett demands.
“You’re being very annoying,” I sigh, getting out of my chair and deciding to leave my expensive art materials here, away from danger, i.e., my dad and Brett.
“It’s on the list of duties that come with being a big brother,” He assures me matter-of-factly as Graham and I walk past him and into the living room together.
“You guys look cuter and cuter together every time I see you,” Aspen says as I sit down by her and Graham sits on the other side of me, putting me in the middle.
“Gee, thanks,” I sarcastically reply to her.
“Hi Aspen,” Graham greets my weird friend.
“Hi Graham,” She chimes, waving at him, which is weird since he’s only like, three feet away from her, if that many. I’m actually not very good at measurements.
After that, Beckett plops down on the couch near our weird and unwanted father before grabbing his new iPad (courtesy of me) and starting the game. I like the game and all but I don’t really want to play any games that my father or my brother’s creepy best friend is involved in. If you can’t tell, I really hate them both a lot.
My dad is definitely the worst of the two though because he’s actually really, really mean to, whereas the worst thing that Brett does is subtly check me out, only he’s not that subtle with it because I can tell every time. So can Beckett, which is why he hits him in his head a lot, which seems pretty dangerous but it happens. While we’re playing the game, the Christmas movie that’s playing on the TV suddenly stops and the voices are replaced by that irritating alarm thing that the National Weather Service plays on your TV and radio and everything whenever they have an announcement to make. Given the crazy snow, I’m not surprised.
“Governor Patrick has declared a level 3 snow emergency over the state,” The voice announces, which gives me an immediate sense of relief.
The voice says more after that but that’s when I stop listening. A snow emergency is basically just an active response thing to snow. Whenever there’s a certain amount of snow, the governor or some other high official like that will make an announcement.
A level 1 snow emergency isn’t that serious and we get those all the time—they just mean that the roads are dangerous and if you drive on them, be extremely careful. They get announced when there’s like, two inches of snow outside.
Then there’s the level 2 snow emergency, which is a little more serious. It strongly discourages driving and that’s when they usually let school out. That’s about 6 inches.
Then there’s the level 3 snow emergency, which is what the Governor of Massachusetts apparently just declared. A level 3 snow emergency is the most serious of them all, which is pretty obvious, I think. When a level 3 is issued, all public roadways are prohibited and if you’re caught driving on them, you get fined or even arrested if it’s not an absolute emergency. They declare a level 3 when there’s about 8 or 10 inches of snow outside, so I guess that’s about where we are.
Not that I like being stuck in one place but if I have to be, I’m glad it’s my own home. Another good thing about being prohibited from driving is that Flynn can’t come over. I mean, I guess he could but he would have to drive and surely he won’t do something that stupid when the Governor is specifically saying don’t.
After the announcement goes off, we continue to play the game. At least, that’s what they do. I’m just lying on the couch, trying to beat my high score on Flappy Bird, which is embarrassingly low. So embarrassing low that I won’t even mention what it is. Just know that it’s low.
There’s a knock on the door about five minutes later though and I decide that I’ll go get it because the rest of them are so enveloped in the game. Not to mention the fact that Graham’s presents are in the closet that’s near the front door, so I might as well just get them on my way. It’s probably an officer, coming to make sure all is well—they do that in a snow emergency.
“I’ll get it,” I announce, standing up from the couch and making my way out of the living room, down the short corridor to the front door. When I reach it, I pull the door open, about to assure the police officer that we’re all safe and that everything is okay but when I see that the person standing before me is definitely not a cop, my breath catches in my throat and my knees immediately go weak—and not the good kind of weak obviously. My heart starts pounding and my mouth dries.
“Merry Christmas, Sawyer,” Flynn greets with a wide grin on his face as if we’re best friends that haven’t seen each other in forever.
I think he waits for me to say something but I really can’t. I try to squeak something about but it feels like I’m about to throw up, pee my pants and faint all at the same time, which makes talking pretty impossible. I feel my knees buck beneath me and I nearly lose my balance, grabbing onto the door handle to steady myself.
I honestly was starting to think that Kevin was just bullshitting me—I was praying that’s what had happened, actually, but evidently, he was telling the whole truth. I never bothered to tell Beckett that Flynn might be coming back though because I knew that he’d have a cow and be even more overprotective than usual if I’d told.
“You know,” Flynn says in his stupid voice, looking down at me. “You get hotter and hotter each time I see you. Granted, the last time that I saw you, you were crying like the world was gonna end or something,” He laughs, like anything about this situation is funny, which it clearly isn’t. “Well, aren’t you gonna invite me in?”
“You have to go,” I whisper and I’m sure I sound incredibly winded, because I can barely even catch my breath.
“Go?” He echoes, looking at me like I’m crazy. “No, I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. At least, not until next semester starts for college. I told you that when I saw you again, we’d settle everything that’s what we’re gonna do,” He firmly informs me. “Is anybody home? Because if not, we can just go ahead and squash it.”
“Sawyer, who is it?” Beckett calls from the living room before I have a chance to reply to Flynn’s question.
“It’s like, negative eight degrees out here, Sawyer—have a heart,” Flynn tauntingly says, pushing his way past me and into the house.
“Flynn,” I quietly whisper, my voice coming out as a whimper. “P-please go,” I plead, feeling my eyes fill with heavy tears. “You have to.”
“I don’t have to and I’m not going to,” He assures me and then he grabs my wrist in his hand, squeezing it tight and glaring down at me.
“You have approximately half a second to get your hands off of my sister before I break every bone in your body,” Beckett says, suddenly in the corridor with us.
“Beckett,” Flynn says, tightening his grip on my wrist and looking over his shoulder at Beckett, who looks angry enough to commit mass murder right now. “It’s Good to see you again, buddy. Merry Christmas. I meant to tell you I’d be home for Christmas and I couldn’t resist coming to see you and your lovely sister again.”
“Let her go, Flynn or I swear to God, I will kill you,” Beckett says and I see his fists clench together like they always do whenever he’s really angry, which is rarely.
“I’m just trying to have a conversation with her, dude,” Flynn replies, tightening his grip around my wrist again.
I think that if I weren’t busy hyperventilating and trying not to pass out, I’d cry out in pain because it actually does really hurt. Beckett takes two steps forward them and punches Flynn dead in his face, which he obviously wasn’t expecting. Flynn’s hands fly to his nose, which I think might be broken, and he drops my wrist then.
“Go to your room, Sawyer,” Beckett demands and his voice is so cold that I don’t even dispute it.
I know I’m not going to be able to make it upstairs without throwing up though, so I run out of the corridor and to the downstairs bathroom, throwing the door open and falling on my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. I hear Beckett yelling profanities at Flynn in the hallway and the sound of flesh hitting flesh, which makes me think there’s a full on brawl between the two of them going on right about now.
When my stomach is empty of all the cupcakes that I’ve consumed today, I curl myself up in a ball there on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest and rocking back and forth while I wait for the shouting and screaming to stop. I hyperventilate uncontrollably there on the titled bathroom floor for a while and then close my eyes, trying to calm myself down before I just pass out in here. As soon as I close my eyes though, all of the memories of the night of the party flood my head along with the voices. I’m not like, schizophrenic or anything but whenever I get really upset and start triggering flashbacks from the Halloween party, the voices are as clear in my head as the images are and they’re so vivid.
“Fuck, Sawyer, stop crying.”
That line keeps repeating itself in my head because that’s what Flynn said that night. He said it over and over and over again but I couldn’t make myself stop.
“It’s just me, Sawyer.”
Another repeated line from Flynn that night. I feel like I’m back at that frat house party because the memories and the voices and even the smells are so clear.
“Red cups and sweaty bodies everywhere, hands in the air like we don’t care.”
The lyrics from that stupid Miley Cyrus song that was playing throughout the frat house that night that successfully masked any attempts at shouting or anything.
“You’re gonna kill him, Beckett!”
My shaky voice after Beckett finally found me that night at that stupid party and proceeded to beat his ex-best friend into a bloody pulp like there was no tomorrow.
Weeee-errrrrrrrr-weeeeee-errrrrrrr
The sound of the police sirens that I thought would never show but eventually, they did. They were a lot more concerned with the drug use and underage drinking.
“Sawyer,” Graham’s voice suddenly sounds, immediately pulling me out of my unbridled flashback. I open my eyes and see him standing in the bathroom doorway.
“Hi,” I weakly reply and because I’m such a crybaby, the tears immediately continue to stream down my face and I know I look crazy and it’s super embarrassing.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Graham assures me, walking into the bathroom and sitting beside me on the floor. He wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer him. “It’s alright,” He adds, trying to comfort me. I’m not really one for close psychical contact but seeing as how I’m about to have a nervous breakdown right now, I don’t refuse it. I let Graham pull me closer to him and I bury my face in his shoulder, soaking his shirt with my salty tears while he gently rubs my back with his hand. “You’re okay,” He coaxes which is kind of crazy because he has no idea what even happened with Flynn. Well, I didn’t tell him. He’s really smart though, so I’m sure he can somewhat put the pieces together but still. “Aspen’s calling the police right now and they’re gonna come and get him—he’s going to jail,” He adds.
“But even if he does, his dad will bail him out and he’s gonna try to kill me or something,” I wail, not even being dramatic. “He’s never gonna leave me alone.”
“If I have to break both of his legs to keep him away from you, then that’s just what I do. But not gonna let him hurt you, Sawyer,” Graham replies. “I promise.”
Author's Note: Hello beautifuls! I know that this chapter is a day late but I was super busy this weekend. Also, my internet is being super weird and Wattpad was doing maintenance or something a while ago, when I was going to post this. Anyway though, I'm going to do my absolute very best to not update late anymore, so we'll see how that goes. Besides this is the longest chapter- almost 10,000 words, which is super insane- and I hope you think it's the worth the one day late wait.
1. Thanks a whole bunch for the lovely comments on chapter 11, you guys are so lovely.
2. This chapter is dedicated to HippoUnicorn123 because I loved her comment the most.
3. Thoughts on this chapter? Flynn? Tom? Sawyer? Graham? Beckett? Aspen? Anyone?
4. Notice the picture- Zac Efron, who plays Sawyer's brother, and notice the song as well- Look After You by The Fray, which I thought was a pretty fitting song for this chapter and whatnot.
P.S., Don't forget that whoever leaves the comment that I love the most on this chapter gets the next chapter dedicated to them, so yeah. And if you think you've figured it all out between Flynn and Sawyer, think again because I have some tricks up my sleeve. Alrighty, that's all I've gotta say, I think. ♡