I wake up the same way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.
My eyelids flutter as sunlight fills the room. I turn my face into the other side of the pillow to escape it, letting my eyes adjust themselves. It isn't until I sit up, wincing at the dull throb in my hips, and look around that last night comes back to me. Oh, yeah...
I'm in Jason's bedroom, alone in his bed. The sheets are still rumpled with the imprint of his body. I'm only wearing his T-shirt. I grab my phone to see that it's ten a.m. and I have a few missed calls from Danny. As if all this isn't enough to remind me, when I stand up my legs tremble from the ache in my pelvis, and I almost trip.
I laugh and shake my head as I waddle to the bathroom. Last night. An amazing, exhausting night of first-evers. The confessions, the intimacy, the... pleasure. Jason had me last night. He owned me. I always knew how possessive he was, but after last night his dominance climaxed. Literally. I realize now how much I want to belong to him.
Maybe it's just virgin enthusiasm, but... I don't remember ever falling asleep so satisfied. Not even the first night Jason helped me fall asleep without any nightmares. He always makes me feel like that, though. Safe and at ease. I remember laying with him afterward, fatigued with content. Eventually I got up to brush my teeth and throw on his T-shirt, and he got up with me, grabbing his shorts. He claimed he didn't want to let go of me, so he didn't, dawdling to his bathroom with his arms around me still. We brushed our teeth in the mirror like some middle-aged married couple. Then we fell back into bed, talking for a little while about Danny's engagement and his dad's current scheme. Soon after Jason fell asleep, understandable after his long night, and I followed, drifting in his arms.
Wow. Talk about a Merry Christmas. Giving is just as good as getting, I see.
I come out of the shower wrapped in a towel and grab my clothes from my backpack. Once I'm dressed I text Danny, promising I'll be home in an hour, and make my way downstairs.
Jason must've turned on the Christmas tree already, because I see it from the middle of the staircase. It's an evergreen spruce, towering up to the ceiling, draped in gold ribbon and tinsel, adorned with shiny ornaments and angel figurines. Underneath is a massive pile of silver presents that I know Chantel wrapped.
The house looks different to me in daylight, and without the crowd I remember from Thanksgiving. It's still very nicely furnished and decorated, with the glittering chandelier in the foyer and rich paintings hanging on the walls. But it seems smaller without the goons, the gals, the laughter and wine and noise. Or bigger, depending on how you look at it. I always thought that a big house could get lonely and empty, until Jason reminded me that you make a house a home. You know that old saying, "Home is where the heart is?" It's never been truer than in his case. It took me some time to figure out where his heart is, exactly, but now I know that it's wherever the people he loves are.
Like his mother's grave. I'll never forget the look in his eyes when he introduced me, and told me I'm the only girl he's ever taken there. He's going to be the only boy - the only person - I've taken with me to see my parents. I've gone alone, because I thought it was easier that way, but now I realize I want to introduce Jason to them. It's about time, right?
I find Jason in the kitchen, flipping pancakes at the stove. Pancakes! I have to stop and stare for a minute. He seems so young - disheveled hair, cute nose, cursing when the burner gets too hot. But he's so mature at the same time - insanely chiseled jawline, with muscles and height, cooking breakfast on the morning after. He pours more batter into the griddle before noticing me in the doorway, and we react in sync. He smiles at me - a real smile, not just his trademark smirk or a tug of the lips - and I smile back. He also looks at me with eyes so warm and beautiful it's like I'm feeling sunshine, and I'm sure I look at him the same as I walk over.
"Hi. I mean - good morning," I say, almost shyly, wrapping my arms around myself.
"Good morning," he replies, unfolding them so he can hold my hands between us instead.
"Merry Christmas."
He drifts his gaze down my figure only to return it to my face, smoldering with remnants of desire. I have the urge to blush as he does, but is it really any different than before? He's seen all of me now, I guess, but nothing's changed. I shouldn't even be shy anymore.
So I decide not to be as he scoops me up into his arms, hoisting me onto the counter and kissing me. His hands move over my waist and hips, and I drape my arms over his shoulders, lip-locked. I think that's the sweetest kiss he's ever given me.
"Merry Christmas," he murmurs when we pull away, sounding extremely pleased. His honey eyes are so soulful and evocative, and always show the things he hides. These days, around me, he's been hiding less and less.
"You're making us breakfast?" I ask him.
"I'm making you breakfast," he says emphatically, reaching to grab his food from the island. "I'm eating this good-ass sandwich you made me last night." He takes a huge bite and nods like it's the best thing he's ever eaten.
I laugh. "I'm glad you like it. I put love into everything I make."
"I can tell. I just make sure I don't burn anything."
"Well, baby, your stuff's smoking."
"Thanks, babe."
"No, I mean the food. It's literally smoking," I clarify, pointing to the stove. A faint burning smell fills the kitchen.
"Oh, shit!" Jason hurries over to save the batter, flipping it over and turning the burner down to a lower setting. I giggle as he shakes his head at the deformed, slightly burned pancake.
"Sorry for distracting you, Master Chef McCann," I joke.
"Nah, it's okay. As long as I don't start a fire, set off the smoke alarm, and make the fire department come running. If the cops show up around here again my dad's gonna kill me. Very creatively."
He's totally joking, but I detect a forlorn note in his voice, and the darkness that briefly passes over his face. He did get arrested last night, and he did sit in jail for hours without knowing if and when he'd get out. His depression hit him hard last night too, so hard that it hurt me as much as it hurt him. I need to know that he's okay after all that, but only if he wants to talk about it. I know better than anyone that sometimes, moving on from the past is easier when you just leave it there.
So I change the subject.
"Where's your dad now?" I ask, swinging my legs back and forth.
He glances at the ceiling. "Upstairs."
I widen my eyes.
Jason chuckles at my horrified expression. "TK, relax. He's comatose. He came in early this morning while we were asleep."
"Oh, okay." Relief floods my conscience. "As long as he didn't hear us, um... canoodling."
He smirks and leans over me again, his arms planted on either side of my hips. Suddenly the adorable things get downright hot - the messy hair becomes just-fucked hair, and the cute nose tickles the hot spot on my neck.
"You were so good last night, baby girl," he murmurs appreciatively, his gaze lowering again. He kisses my collarbone. "So ready and confident. You sure I was your first?"
"Absolutely," I declare. Even he wasn't, there wouldn't be any contest. "And I wouldn't have wanted it to be with anyone but you. You made me feel like I was your first. Special. And so loved. Like I belonged to you and no one else."
"You do. And I do. I love you."
"I love you, too."
He kisses me again, softly and sweetly, before returning to the stove to finish up my breakfast. He slaps the last pancake onto the stack and hands me the plate, along with a heated bottle of maple syrup that reminds me of his eyes. He watches me as I take my time drizzling it and, just to mess with him, I wrinkle my nose and twist my mouth at the first bite.
He just looks at me, and his expression reminds me of Danny's - when I called his first attempt at a proposal cheesy. It's a look of defeat, like I crushed a dream. I kick myself internally; this happened yesterday, too: I made a joke and it hit a nerve. Making someone like Jason feel bad, even unintentionally, makes me want to drown.
"Babe, I'm sorry, I'm just kidding," I assure him around another bite. I extend my leg and nudge him with my foot. "Thank you for making me breakfast. It's really good." I'm not even exaggerating - he can cook too! I don't think there's anything Jason's not good at, honestly.
Luckily his casual, nonchalant confidence returns to his expression, and his mouth quirks with a grin. "Good. I'd be depressed if you didn't like my pancakes, of all things."
"Don't say that."
"Say what?"
"'I'd be depressed if you...'" I wave my hand, letting all the hypothetical possibilities fill in the blank. "I'm supposed to help you feel better, not be responsible for starting it."
He pauses, then leans on his elbow beside me. His eyes are clouded, but I can see them clear up as he speaks. "My bad, that's not what I meant. You could never make me feel bad, TK. It's just - little things trigger it. And remember, my depression's unpredictable. But I know what brings it on. And what makes me spiral like last night. The last time I remember it being that bad..." He clenches his jaw. "Was when I found out about Nina betraying us. You know how I reacted - with blind anger. No rationality or thought. Now that I think about it, it was probably pretty selfish."
He pauses again. "Last night I wanted to react the same way, because I could feel it taking over. When that happens, it makes me feel weak, TK. But like I said, I thought of you instead, and - " He stops and starts to scowl like he can't bother to admit this, but then he remembers who he's talking to and goes on. "I didn't feel so weak anymore."
I slip my hand in his and he slides an arm around my waist, pressing his forehead to my shoulder. These are the moments I treasure most - when he tells me his thoughts and shows me things he hides from everyone else. He told me once that I bring out the best in him, and for me, this is the best. This sensitive, self-aware Jason who trusts me with his feelings.
"You know, for a little while last night, I thought it was my fault," I tell him quietly.
He furrows his brow in question.
"You getting arrested, I mean. If we hadn't set the building on fire - if I hadn't insisted, the Wreckers wouldn't have had anything to frame you for."
"If we hadn't set the building on fire, we wouldn't have any advantage in this war right now. No matter what, we - you - caught them off guard with irreversible damage. The turf they thought was so secret and amazing is gone. Yeah, I got arrested for it, but I'm out now. And... it was worth it. You're worth it." He gives me a darkly cheerful smirk.
"I guess I didn't look at it that way," I admit, smiling subtly. "But are you okay?"
"Yeah." He shifts to hug me tighter. "Now I am."
"We're gonna get the Wreckers back for this, right?"
He look at me wryly. "Yeah, we are," he vows. He hesitates, then the shadow returns to his honey eyes. "I just don't know how yet."
"We don't have to figure it out now," I say. I've made it my responsibility to relieve some of the pressure on him whenever I can, because it's a lot. "For now let's just enjoy the holidays."
Another moment, and all traces of his despair disappear. He nods agreeably and gazes at me with tender, grateful affection. "How much longer do I get to enjoy you?"
"I told Danny I'd be home in an hour."
"How long ago was that?"
"Er... Almost an hour ago."
He nods like he suspected as much, and smirks knowingly. "Eat up, then, so you can leave before he starts worrying."
"He doesn't have anything to worry about when I'm with you."
"He might if you come home and can't walk after last night."
"Jason."
"I'm just kidding, TK, eat your pancakes."
I do, but slowly. It's probably everything that has happened in the past twenty-four hours, and the fact that it's Christmas morning, but I don't want to leave. When I finally summon up enough willpower, Jason walks me outside to Danny's car. The snow has melted so thoroughly that it doesn't even look like we had any - the slickness on the pavement is the only indication. The air is cool but there's plenty of sunshine.
Jason pauses outside like he's remembering something.
"Wait," he says, "I forgot your other present." Then he turns and jogs back into the house without another word.
"You got me another present?" I call after him incredulously, but it's pointless. He already bought me the rose-gold Audemars timepiece wrapped around my wrist, and Lord knows how much that cost. A weird sense of trepidation grips my chest when he returns with a small gift box. More jewelry? He bought me more jewelry? Yeah, because the watch and chain I'm wearing aren't enough. If he showers me in any more gold Danny might secretly pawn it all for his education.
Jason smirks at me expectantly as he hands me the box, and I don't even have to fake the coy, knowing smile I return to him. What's his grin about? I unwrap it cautiously, not taking my eyes off his, shining with wicked anticipation. Inside is a plain silver key with no ring or chain.
"What's this?" I ask, holding it up between my fingers.
"A key."
"I can see that. A key to what?"
He clutches his hand to his chest and cheeses. "My heart."
I smile and poke it against his chest playfully, twisting and turning it. "Hmm, it's not working."
"That's because you already have it."
I almost flush at how special that makes me feel. Not to mention he's being unbearably cute right now. I've never seen him smile so much, like actually smile, and when he looks at me there's this twinkle in his eyes like he's seeing the light when he sees me. He said something like that last night - that I'm guiding him. When the crew sees this honeymoon phase we're going through, they're going to tease us for days.
"What's this really for?" I ask him.
He crosses his arms over his chest. "That's a key to my dad's safe house. It's a hideaway that no one knows about, not even his closest goons. In an emergency, if we ever have to hide from someone who's after us, or if we need somewhere to go without endangering the whole crew, we can go there. All of us have a key and you need one too."
"How will I know where it is?"
"The address is on the back. Memorize it and then wipe it off as soon as you do."
I turn the key over and examine the tiny print on the face. I read over it and start reciting it in my mind immediately.
"So, a safe house?" I say, grinning up at him. "That's so... cool. It's like something out of an action movie."
He grins back. "We haven't had to use it yet, but you needed a key to it anyway. If you're ever in trouble and feel like you don't have anywhere else to go, go there. If I can't find you I'll know that's where you are."
I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest. He holds me against him, his arms around my middle, and rests his chin in my hair. He's just enough inches taller than me that I can hear his heartbeat when I hug him, and something about that is even more comforting than the hug.
"I won't feel safe until you're with me, no matter where I am," I confess.
"I know. That's why I gave you the key - so I'll know where to find you. I'll always know where to find you." He kisses the top of my head and rubs my back. "Besides, there's a tracking device in your phone that my dad's hacker installed. It's standard for all my girlfriends."
I pull away and purse my lips.
"You know I'm kidding, right? I listened to your voicemail, though. I'm not deleting it."
"Really? Why?"
"Because it's your voice, baby girl, and you said I love you. I can listen to that until I find you."
*****
Driving home, all I can think about is what's waiting for me there. I think it's time I have a talk with Danny. A mature conversation, without arguing like we did last week. I was just so angry and offended that he ignored my judgment about our parents. Not to mention he abused my trust by going behind my back to the police about them - and Jason. I know deep down that Danny had good intentions, but I don't agree with the way he went about it. He jeopardized my peace of mind, threatened Jason and his family indirectly, and put me in a position of reckless and rebellious desire. What irritated me the most was Danny assuming the worst of my relationship, without even trying to understand what I chose to tell him, and that's why I stormed out. I was pent-up with frustration and I definitely let it out by burning down the Bando.
Last night when I was rushing to the police station, I saw an inkling of understanding in my brother's eyes. If all else fails, I can get him to accept one thing: that this is a time of change. Not just for me, but for both of us. Even if our parents hadn't died, we'd still be adjusting differently, though I know it's a lot harder to manage without them around. I have new friends, a boyfriend, and I'm graduating high school in a few months. Danny is starting med school soon, he's getting married, and he and Anna are having a baby.
I think we're way past due for a talk. I'm also aware that there's some room for apology on my part. At the time anger always seems like the right answer, and the easiest way to deal with the situation, but I don't want to be angry anymore. Not at my brother. I want us to be okay again, because my relationship with him is just as important as my relationship with Jason. Meaning, not only do I want it to exist, but I need it to.
When I get up to the porch at home, the door swings open before I have a chance to open it, leaving me in mid-stride with my keys dangling in my hand. Danny stands on the threshold, his expression vague as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the door frame. He must've heard me pull up and is awaiting an explanation for my hasty exit, overnight absence, and missed phone calls. That's all his face is: a general look of expectancy.
What does he see in my expression? Hopefully not the more intimate details of my night. I know my afterglow has faded already, but I have this bad habit of flushing at the littlest things - especially when I'm thinking about the things that make me flush.
I clear my throat and pat my cheek casually, making sure it's not warm. "Hey, Danny," I greet him. "Merry Christmas."
His eyes narrow fractionally. "Merry Christmas, Tess. Where were you?" He pauses and grimaces slightly, like he wants to be furious and authoritative, but it's not all the way there. There's a different emotion in his eyes, something softer and less overbearing. "I was worried."
"I'm sorry. You shouldn't be, though. I'm not in trouble, and I'm home when I said I'd be, right?"
He remains indifferent to my point. "What happened?"
I shoulder my bag. "There was an emergency with my friends and we needed to be there for Jason. He was - arrested," I confess, not regrettably. I just want to be as honest as possible. Telling Danny the truth doesn't mean telling him everything.
"For what?" Danny says sharply.
"It doesn't matter anymore," I hedge, keeping my voice steady. It's not even that hard, really, because I'm not lying. "He's out now. He's not in trouble and everything's okay now. It was a huge misunderstanding. I gave Miley a ride home and spent the night at her house. Things were a little chaotic and we just wanted to chill out. I'm sorry for making you worry, and trust me, I'm sorry that this happened. But it's over and we're all alright." I hold his gaze for a few moments, making sure that my resolve doesn't falter, then step inside and hand him the keys.
Danny looks at me pensively, closing the door, and then down at the keys. I know he is at least considering my honesty, and appreciates it. Why else would I tell him all that, if I wasn't trying to reestablish our trust? Finally he sighs and nods.
"Keep them," he says, waving off my hand. "They're yours now. Merry Christmas."
I blink at him for several seconds, stunned, before I realize what he's saying. I rush over to the window and peek through the blinds, and sure enough there's another car besides the cobalt Hyundai I drove home in. Danny mentioned buying a new car - the bright red Kia I'm just now noticing - and giving me his old one, but it just flew over my head until now. The freedom and excitement makes me want to spin.
"Thank you thank you thank you!" I exclaim, running across the room and attacking Danny with a hug. He stumbles a little but hugs me back, actually managing a chuckle at my enthusiasm.
"You're welcome," he says sincerely when we pull away, and then an awkward pause follows. I tuck my hair behind my ear and start to say something, wondering if I should go ahead and apologize - but that seems wrong. Like, do I feel guilty and obligated just because he gave me something? As I'm grappling with my morals, though, Danny makes a decision.
"Tessa, look," he says importantly, motioning me over to the couch. I sink onto it cross-legged and he perches on the opposite arm, folding his arms over his chest.
"Yesterday made me realize that I haven't been paying attention to your feelings as much as I should," he confesses solemnly. "And I haven't been fair. I shouldn't have agreed to a full investigation into Mom and Dad's murder after you said you wanted nothing to do with it. Even if I was going to do it anyway, I should've told you instead of lying. I understand that that's the way you want to handle it - by leaving it in the past. I'm not continuing with it anymore. You're right; ignoring your choice and lying to you was disrespectful and I know it hurt your feelings. So I'm sorry." He pauses and I nod, but he goes on.
"As for Jason," he remarks. Instinctively I hold my breath, but he goes on calmly. "Going to the police about his father was completely out of line. I was being stubborn and overprotective. You're right about another thing - you haven't given me any real reason to worry. So I guess I just invented one. You're just being a teenager, which is what you were trying to tell me. And - " He hesitates and scowls a little, like he's about to admit something embarrassing. "I can see that you care about Jason, and he cares about you a lot, too, so I'll stop being an ass. I was inventing something bad about him, too, because he's a good kid. No one will ever be good enough for my little sister, but I'll take him." He hikes an eyebrow but smiles.
I smile back and almost cry with relief. That is all I wanted, and more. "Thank you," I say genuinely. "For everything. And - I'm sorry I yelled at you last week. Like you said, I was really hurt and angry. I am an adult, and you're my brother. I just need you to trust my judgment and respect my decisions. And I know you were just looking out for me, so you don't have to apologize for that."
Danny nods, but his expression is sheepish. "I know what I do need to apologize for, though. Again."
I wait.
"Going to the cops about Jason's father, Frank McCann? I know he's clean, but I'm sure they checked Jason's record, too. I'm not saying they found anything, but the police do this sometimes - approach a random crime with suspects already in mind. Something happened recently and they found enough reason to arrest the first person on their list. It's a scapegoat, and a way to fill their quota. Anyway, that's the reason Jason got arrested last night, isn't it?"
I press my lips together, wanting to laugh at the irony, but something tells me to enjoy it instead.
"Yeah, that's totally it," I say casually. "I just didn't wanna say anything because I didn't wanna make you feel bad."
"Sorry, Tess. If you want me to apologize to Jason myself, I will, because I know you told him - "
"Actually, I didn't. It was ridiculous. And I probably won't, because he doesn't need to get mad at you unnecessarily. He likes you; I wanna keep it that way. If he finds someone to blame for his depression getting as bad as it did last night, he'll just lose his sh - "
"Jason has depression?" Danny interrupts, dumbstruck.
"Oh, yeah," I say meekly. "I never told you because he doesn't like talking about it. He's claustrophobic, too, so last night was really hard for him. The cops questioned and harassed him for nothing. We were so relieved when his dad bailed him out."
I could almost laugh at the horrified expression that crosses Danny's face. It's harmless really, goading him on like this and inspiring some sympathy. Call it payback. He'll just be feeling guilty for a little while.
"I'm so sorry, Tess," Danny sputters. "I'll make it up to you."
"Okay," I say, a tad too cheerily. I put my pouting face back on.
"Are we good?" he asks hopefully.
"Yeah, we're good. I forgive you." I bump his fist.
"Awesome. 'Cause... I need to you bake some more of those gingerbread cookies. And the iced sugar ones shaped like trees and snowmen? And the snicker doodles with cinnamon? Just make them all."
I roll my eyes. "First of all, I thought you were going to Anna's parents' house. You have plenty to tell them over dinner."
"We are. Anna went home this morning and I'm picking her up on the way."
"Great. Have dessert there, tell them I said hello and Merry Christmas. Second of all, I'm having my friends over to open presents, remember?"
He ponders. "Miley, Za, and Khalil, right?"
I raise my eyebrows.
"And Jason."
"Yes," I say, with a duh implicit in my tone. "The cookies are for them!"
"Right, right, fine. Have you thought about going into baking, though? You could be a psychologist with like, culinary methods. People come to you with their problems but once they eat your brownies or cupcakes, they're not sad anymore."
I stare at him until I can't help but laugh, and he laughs too as I head to the kitchen. I do spend the rest of the day baking like I promised - I don't know, it's just fun and it makes me happy. When it's almost time for my company I change and turn on all the Christmas lights. Miley and Khalil show up first, then Jason, and lastly Za, and we all gather in the living room.
Za sits beside Jason and me, unaffected by our affection. For someone who used to tease us so much about having sex, Za is pretty oblivious now that we actually have. Sometimes it's obvious the way a couple acts afterward, but I guess with Jason and me, there's no difference. He's been smacking my butt and kissing me with everyone around anyway, so they must be used to it.
"So who's going first?" Za says, grabbing two cookies and propping his feet up.
"Me!" Miley volunteers, pushing her stack of presents to the middle of the coffee table. "My gifts are pretty awesome if you ask me, so you might as well get the best out of the way."
She's not exaggerating. She got the boys their favorite video games, all the latest editions: Grand Theft Auto for Za, Madden for Khalil, and Halo for Jason. They grin and get really excited. Boys and their toys.
Miley grins back. "Don't worry, I'll still be kicking your asses when we play. I secretly bought those for myself."
She got me a Chicago Bulls Snapback. I start praising her and slap it on my head, doing a victory dance in my seat. NBA season has already started and it's time for me to rep my team with a hat to match my jersey. The boys laugh and mock me for not backing Miami when they're "clearly" going to make it to the Finals. Whatever. Bulls Nation till the day I die. Fuck the Heat.
"Okay, not bad," Za admits to Miley, grabbing another cookie. As usual the crew is munching them up. "But they don't top mine. These are good as hell, Tess," he mentions as he hands all of us small, rectangular boxes.
"Thanks," I laugh, opening his gift. We all have the same expression of awe and appreciation at Za's present for us: phone cases with a sick graffiti design, personalized with our names on them: TK, Bizzle, Blondie, Kalfani.
"This is sick, Za," Khalil compliments, examining his case. "You did all these yourself?"
"Yup," Za confirms, whipping out his phone. His case matches ours and reads Gunzo. "Worked on them in the shop while Tess was there. She got skills, too."
"Yeah, she does," Jason agrees, a smile tugging at his lips. "All for me."
I can always count on this boy to make me blush.
Khalil raises an eyebrow. "She didn't follow the rule either, huh?" He chuckles. "What'd you get him, Tess?"
"Don't worry about it," Jason replies, "since you guys never wanna listen to me. I tell you every year not to get me anything. Now open mine next."
The crew rolls their eyes and mutters about Jason being stubborn and modest as they tear the paper on the boxes, which are all shaped the same. I'm stunned when Jason hands me one too and shake my head, actually starting to refuse. I can't accept anything else; he's given me more than enough. But he puts it in my hands and nudges me to open it, insistent.
"Oh my God!" Miley exclaims, holding the sneaker up like it's the Holy Grail. "These are like the newest pairs! They're so dope! Thanks, Jason."
Shoes. He got us shoes. And not just any shoes - black leather Supra Skytops with glow in the dark speckles on the soles. We try them on with excited thank-yous to Jason, who just nods and props his feet up on the table casually. As he does I notice he's wearing the exact same pair. I smile. This is a crew thing - like our chains and watches. Now we have the sneaks. Our uniformity is so stylish, it's insane.
"Never mind, best gift goes to Jason," Miley says, raising her leg and twisting her ankle to admire the sneaker.
"Right?" Khalil agrees. "I'll go next. Tell me how mine ranks." He hands each of us a Christmas envelope, the kind you put money or gift cards in. Instead there's tickets to Beyoncé and Jay Z's On the Run tour. We almost have a conniption.
"How?" I squeal. "How? These are floor seats for next summer!"
Khalil shrugs modestly but grins. "I got the hookup."
"Best gift," I conclude, and the rest of the crew agrees.
"Wait, Tess," Miley says. "It's your turn."
"Oh," I say absentmindedly, moving to stand. Jason scoots aside and I head over to grab my gifts from under the tree. Jason gets one, too, and he gives me the same hesitant look I gave him. I narrow my eyes, insisting as well, so he accepts it and pulls me into his lap.
"Ready to see what shipment money bought you?" I joke. They chuckle.
When Za opens his gift - silver dice with a reflective surface to hang on his rear-view mirror - he hoots appreciatively. "Tess, these are perfect! They match the rims I'm getting put in next week. Thank you. For real."
When Miley opens her gift - a leather bomber jacket with zipper details and black thigh-high tights - she squeals excitedly. "Tessa, this is hot! I have this white mini-dress that'll look amazing with these! Thank you so much, hon."
When Khalil opens his gift - a Beats dock with charging capability that matches his red headphones - he curses graciously. "This is bomb, Tess! I can hook it up to the turntables when I'm spinning and use my own mixes. Thanks, ma."
When Jason opens his gift - a skateboard maintenance kit to tighten up his wheels, shape up the grip tape, fix the paint, etc. - he grins and hugs my waist. "For my new board?" he asks. I nod. "You think I won't take extra care of it?"
"No, I think you're gonna do railslides, nosegrinds, switch stances and Nollies. It might get a little chipped. And I know you, Mr. Perfectionist."
He raises his eyebrows at my knowledge of his skate tricks - like I said, I did my research - and pecks me on the cheek. "Thank you, baby," he murmurs in my ear.
I beam at everyone's pleased reactions. "I'm so glad you guys like your stuff," I say, wrapping my arm around Jason's shoulders. "I kinda got you things that make you... well, you. Like, the first time I saw Jason, he rode a skateboard into Anderson's class. And Miley, the first time we hung out, I noticed your style. Za, no one knows cars like you, and I remember when we drifted how excited you were. Khalil, you love music more than I do, and I love music, and your mixes at the Halloween party were the best I've ever heard. You guys are so talented and have things that are special to you. That's important, and it makes me proud to call you my friends."
Jason tugs me closer and rubs my arm affectionately. The crew exchanges meaningful looks and smiles.
"Best gifts," they all say in unison.
Later, after we've eaten all the cookies and fawned over all the presents, everyone says their last Merry Christmas and leaves. Jason's last, of course, but at the coat closet he holds out my jacket for me to put on.
"You still wanna visit your parents, right?" he asks at my questioning expression.
"You remembered," I say.
"Of course I did. You wanna drive? I don't really know my way."
"Yeah, I'll drive. In my new car."
His eyebrows shoot up.
"Danny gave me the Hyundai for Christmas. Imma be whippin'." I shuffle my hand.
He grins. "Sweet."
My parents are buried in San Diego, where the funeral took place. I remember it well, and often. It was a very bleak day, drizzling and drab, and the grief didn't hit me fully until I sat down at their graves. It didn't really help that a military regiment was there, firing off honorary shots for my dad, who was a National Guard veteran. It was a respectful gesture, but it almost scared me to death.
At the cemetery Jason keeps a firm grip on my hand as we walk to the plot of land reserved for my family. Two of the spots are filled, long before their time, with headstones marked Jackson Klein, Father, Husband, Brother, and Rosalind Klein, Mother, Wife, Sister. I don't have to worry about bringing flowers because fresh ones are delivered regularly from the school and doctor's office. Students and clients visit the graves a lot, too, because they were everyone's favorite.
I look down at my parents for several minutes, silent and marinating on the many emotions coursing through me. Jason says nothing, only slips an arm around me, supporting me by the waist. I'm glad I didn't come alone this time.
"Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad," I say eventually. "Good to see you. I brought someone with me. This is my boyfriend, Jason. He's helped me get through a lot since you've been gone. I love him so much. He loves me, too. He loves your little girl," I whisper, my eyes stinging.
Jason wraps me into a hug and I sigh, letting the tears fall silently. They're not too bad this time, just unavoidable. Jason strokes my hair, holding me close, and when he's sure I'm okay he turns to my parents, keeping an arm around my torso.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Klein," he says, warm and charismatic. "I do love your little girl. And I promise I'll take care of her."
A few more tears escape at that, but I smile. "They would've said, 'Alright, Jason, we'll hold you to that.'"
"It'd be that easy?"
"Well, yeah. They trusted my judgment and choices. I was a good girl, remember?"
"I know."
"I never gave them a reason to doubt me," I continue, taking a step toward the graves. "I guess they wanted me to make my own mistakes, and learn from them, instead of keeping me sheltered all the time. They protected me, but they didn't suffocate me." I glance at Jason. "Kinda reminds me of you."
A smile tugs at his lips, and he tucks his hands in his pockets. "I treat you like that because you deserve respect for the stuff you can handle, and protection from the stuff you can't. Which isn't much, baby girl. Obviously you can handle me." A smirk now, and he drags his gaze over my body.
I flush. We're going to be on the honeymoon high for a while.
"Shh," I hiss playfully, putting a finger to my lips. "No innuendos in front of my parents."
His smirk grows. "Right. They like me, I need to keep it that way."
"Mm-hmm. I can totally imagine like, having you over for dinner. My mom would be just like this." I hurry to stand behind her headstone. "Remember, she was a teacher, so she had a lot of different smiles. The phony smile she gave the other teachers in the lounge that she secretly didn't like. The professional smile she gave when she was teaching so no one knew what she was really thinking. And she had the megawatt smile, when one of her students impressed her with a project or something. She'd be giving you that one and say something like, 'Well, Jason, you're a handsome little thing. Tess can't stop talking about you.'" I imitate my mom's flirtatious tendencies.
Jason gives his most polite smile, which is actually quite charming. "Thank you, Mrs. Klein. Can I call you Rose? You're just as vibrant and lovely as one. I see where Tessa gets her looks from."
I wink at him, nod, and flash a thumbs-up as if to say, Nailed it.
"Now my dad, he was a therapist, remember? He had a lot of different 'I sees,'" I explain, moving to my dad's grave marker. "There was the suspicious 'I see' that he gave the clients who were borderline crazy, and that he needed to take immediate action with. There was the indifferent 'I see' he gave the clients who were overdramatic or just plain ridiculous. And then there was the impressed 'I see' he gave the clients he saw progress in and was interested in mentoring more. He'd be giving you that one and say something like, 'I won't treat you like a client, Jason, but I will ask you questions. This is my little girl we're talking about.'"
"Go for it, Mr. Klein. You mind if I ask you a question? I saw that you're a Nat Guard veteran. What regiment were you in? My dad was in the Guard too. It's how he got into weapons dealing."
I smile at Jason's easy charm and politeness - how perfectly is he impressing them, without even trying? - and rejoin him in front of the graves. I sit and he follows, letting me lean against him.
"I wish they could've met you," I say quietly after a few minutes. "You're so important to me. And I miss them so much."
Jason rubs my arm comfortingly. "Hey, baby girl, it's alright. God wanted your parents and my mom to walk in his kingdom and watch over us from there. Yeah, it's a lot harder without them around, but he knew we could handle it."
I let him stroke my hair. He's right. Losing my parents has made me stronger. And more eager to fight for friendship, loyalty, and power. That's the whole reason I got into this gang business, besides Jason of course.
"God gives his toughest battles to the strongest soldiers," I quote.
"I like that. And I watch you get stronger every day. That's my girl."
I cuddle closer to him and he massages my neck with his fingertips. I play with the zipper of his jacket.
"You know Danny and I had a talk today," I say eventually. "He called off the investigation."
"That's good, right?"
"Well, yeah, it just... I just thought of something. That person who killed my parents is out there somewhere. What if I end up running into them or something?"
"It could be anybody, TK. It's not like you would know."
"But they would. What if they say something to me? It didn't bother me before, but now I'm thinking. Just... what if I meet them, and they know who I am, and I don't do anything? That seems like a disgrace right there. And... that's where I think my strength would end."
"TK, do you really think you're gonna come in contact with a murderer like that?" Jason questions.
"With the stuff we do?" I point out. "Absolutely."
He frowns and looks like he's about to apologize, but I sit up and hold up a halting hand.
"I didn't mean it like that," I say.
He nods. "No, I get it. It's more likely. But even if you do, you think they'll tell you? To what? Rub it in your face?"
I bite my lip and he taps my thigh immediately in warning. I fix my mouth and sigh.
"I'm sorry," I mumble.
"Don't apologize; just tell me what you're thinking."
"Visiting my parents brings up all these thoughts and feelings, and they're confusing sometimes. It's just... if I ever end up confronting the person who killed my parents - randomly, and not because I'm looking for justice - I wanna be ready."
Jason takes my hand. "You'd be more ready if you knew who did it. Remember what I said. If you ever change your mind, I'm here."
After a few moments I nod. "If I did change my mind, and we brought your dad into this, I'd wonder about telling Danny or not."
"Why?"
"This is gonna sound so totally insane," I mutter, scowling. "You know the real reason he went snooping into your dad's business?"
He waits.
"He thought your dad killed our parents. I convinced him since then that that's ridiculous, but the thought definitely crossed his mind at some point."
Jason stares at me for a while. Then he laughs out loud. Tensely, though, like he's choosing humor instead of sadness.
"I'm sorry, TK," he says.
"Sorry?"
"That your brother came to that conclusion because of who I am. That it was so easy to believe the worst." He looks at me with wary eyes and a smile - or an attempt at one - to match. "That I'm not good enough for you."
My face falls. Jason is used to everyone assuming the worst. He cares about Danny's opinion for my sake, and obviously my brother believing something so terrible, even for a minute, is harsh on him. It's like he's trying his best to be the good guy for me, and all anyone sees is the bad boy he still is and always will be underneath.
"I'm sorry, too," I declare. "That no one else sees the good in you. Because it's amazing."
He smiles and nudges my cheek affectionately. "I love you, TK."
"I love you, too. Besides - I made Danny think he's the reason you got arrested. I guilt-tripped him a little this morning."
"That's evil," Jason acknowledges. He pauses, then grins. "I like it."
When I get home later on that night, Christmas is almost over, according to the clock. I find my last gift on my bed, from Jason of course. He must've slipped it here earlier when we were opening presents. There's a single red rose sitting on top of an elaborately decorated invitation, folded neatly in half. I open it and it reads, in elegant script, You are cordially invited to the Msft Msqrd, a formal masked ball event, hosted by Misses Kendall and Kylie Jameson, this New Years' Eve. Below that is an address in Calabasas, instructions for RSVPing, and an announcement of the party's activities, including a mask contest and a special surprise at midnight.
This is the New Years' Eve party Miley was talking about, hosted by our friends the Msfts. It sounds like a sexy, black-tie affair, and I'm immediately excited. I have to find something to wear! Maybe get my hair and nails done? But just as quickly as it comes, my enthusiasm dissolves. The party is next Saturday, and I'm scheduled to work.
I frown. Then I notice another piece of paper on my bed. It's a quickly scribbled note. It reads, TK, don't worry about work. I convinced Peter to give you the night off. Next time you go in, he might have a black eye, but I promise he provoked me. Otherwise I would've kept my cool. You know me. Love, J.
I laugh, smell the rose, and collapse into bed. Best. Christmas. Ever.