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Twenty-four days.
That's how long it had been since Black Friday; it was the 23rd of December.
I hadn't done much. In fact, my life had been one huge routine consisting of waking up, being driven to school by Bailee, doing homework, eating dinner, watching Netflix, taking a shower, and then going back to bed.
Aside from school, though, I hadn't really gone out. I skipped the past three weeks worth of parties and cotillions. The only other time I left the house was to pick up a carry-out meal for dinner or to play in the snow with Anastasia.
Speaking of people, perhaps I should explain how nearly every single one of my friendships fell apart.
Let's start with Lillia Clandy. We hadn't spoken since we were forced into the smoothie shop in the middle of the night, twenty-four days ago. Although, the past twenty-four days had sucked, never once did I run away or so much as touch a bottle of alcohol.
So, I pretty much fulfilled my half of our deal. But, I couldn't force her to befriend me.
Next we had Joseph Blanzata. The last conversation we had was about whether or not I would meet him at Central Park.
Considering he hadn't tried contacting me, I knew it was safe to assume that he was upholding his part of our arrangement. I suppose he truly meant it. Perhaps I had lost him forever.
Jacob Adonuski. Jake didn't hate me, which was good. He was the only one of my original best friends who had seen me in the past twenty-four days. Sometimes, during the evening, he would come over and watch a movie with me. Other times, he would drop off a plate of cookies that his mother cooked for my family. Although it was clearly out of pity, I appreciated the effort.
Whenever he would come over, he wouldn't say much, and I wasn't oblivious as to why. I put him in a tough spot. He was still great friends with Lillia and Joey, who were both actively overlooking me, and I wasn't exactly best friends with his girlfriend.
I didn't really know what I did to Marietta that made her hate me. Perhaps Jake told her nasty things about me while he was mad at me. Or maybe Brandon talked to her about how poorly I treated him. Either way, she avoided me at all costs.
Next up: Brandon Rambly. He hadn't spoken to me directly, but I heard plenty about him. Ever since those few texts from Thanksgiving, I hadn't heard from him. I wouldn't be surprised if he deleted my number.
So, how did I hear so much about Brandon? Well, get ready for the plot twist.
Ashlynn.
That's right, Ashlynn Jacobs, my best friend from school. The conversation where I found about this went a little like this:
"I'm so sorry to hear about your breakup with Brandon," Ashlynn sympathetically said to me the first day after Thanksgiving break.
I stared at her blankly. Yes, it was true: I had been spilling information to her, but I hadn't told her about my breakup with Brandon.
"Hmm...I don't remember telling you about that," I frowned, throwing my last notebook in my locker.
"Alright, you caught me!" she divulged, sighing and watching me with a worried look.
"How'd you know?" I asked, a surprised look etched onto my face. I wasn't angry with her, just curious.
"Brandon told me," she confessed, chomping on her nonexistent pinky nail.
"Um...what?"
"Remember that day we all hung out? Well, we exchanged numbers and have been texting a little since then. He told me about your breakup and a few other stories about you two." She took a big gulp, analyzing my facial expression- -probably for any sign of anger. She was one of those people who hated having people upset with her. "Please don't be angry," she added.
"I'm not angry, just surprised," I truthfully responded. "Did he, um, mention anything about my family?" I uncomfortably asked. If Brandon told Ashlynn about my secret life, I would kill him.
"No?"
"Oh," I sighed. I'm sure he would tell her eventually, but at least I had a little time to prepare myself. "So, what have you guys been talking about?"
So, yeah.
If they weren't dating already, they would be very soon. Surprisingly, I was neither upset nor jealous. If anything, I was a little angry that Brandon hadn't told me himself.
The next relationship I would be complaining about was with my parents. Things had definitely shifted over the past few weeks. Instead of arguing every five minutes, they resorted to completely ignoring each other. I wasn't exactly sure how healthy that method was, or how long they would be able to keep it up, but it seemed to be working for the time being.
Approximately twenty-one days ago, it was decided that my fellow birth givers wouldn't be sleeping in the same bed anymore. In fact, my father either slept in the guest room or on the couch.
However, this was supposedly top-secret information. My dad didn't go into his designated sleeping place for the night until Anastasia was asleep. And in the morning, he left for work before Ana even woke up for school.
The only reason I was even aware of this was because of my recent tendency to have trouble falling asleep. I wasn't sure why, but for the past twenty-four days, I have had trouble falling asleep. Every. Single. Night.
So, I either stared at the wall or grabbed a midnight snack. Most nights, I resorted to both.
Speaking of something new, I should probably bring up my new friend, Jared Johnson. Unsurprisingly, it turned out that he was exactly the same person in and out of school.
And yes, I said out of school. For the past twenty-four days, we had hung out two-to-three times each week. When he came over my house, we usually watched a movie or played a board game. However, when we were at his house, we either played video games or we would ice skate on the like behind his house.
Trust me, there weren't any romantic sparks between us. Our relationship was strictly platonic.
I mean, if it was anything more, Hanna would murder me.
Speaking of Hanna, she didn't know about our friendship. No one did actually.
I explained to Jared that I didn't want people to treat me differently and that I preferred to be under the social radar. He seemed to completely understand and even promised not to engage in any peculiar conversation with me at school. Of course we waved to each other or passed on an acknowledging smile, but that was pretty much the extent of it.
On days when we hung out, he usually parked near the back corner of the parking lot, and we managed to escape school without too much attention.
"Emily!" Anastasia screamed through the door, pounding her knuckles against the light wood. "Are you awake?"
"Yes, I'm awake," I groggily spoke, stretching my arms towards the ceiling.
"Just checking," she replied. Moments later, I heard her footsteps retreat from my door.
Today, being the day before Christmas Eve, had been dedicated entirely to Christmas cookies and last minute shopping.
Unfortunately, I doubted my mother could even work an oven, and my father and sister were going out sledding.
Instead of tagging along, I was going to Jared's to bake with him and his mother. Apparently, each "Christmas Adam" as they called it, they baked dozens of cookies, each batch a different type.
Not wanting to be late, I hopped out of bed and ran a brush through my straggled hair. I quickly set it back in a fishtail braid down my back and threw on jeans and a t-shirt.
Not bothering to put on makeup--there was no one to impress--I slipped on a pair of boots and sat in the passenger seat of my dad's car.
When we arrived, Ana beamed. "Have fun hanging out with your boy-who-is-a-friend."
For the past twenty days, Ana had been awful about teasing Jared about being my "boy friend". Each time she addressed him as that, I corrected her with "boy-who-is-a-friend". I guess she finally caught on.
I walked up the few steps to the grand entrance of his home as my dad drove away. I briskly knocked on the huge, white door, only waiting mere moments before Jared's face appeared on the other end.
"Hey, Em," he smiled, holding the door open wide enough for me to walk in. "Glad you could make it."
"Thanks for inviting me," I smiled, stepping into the warm, cinnamon-smelling home. "It smells delicious. Has your mom already started baking?"
"You know it," he smiled. He hung my coat up for me while I placed my shoes on the welcome mat near the door.
He led me towards the source of the warm air. When his mom noticed me, a beautiful smile spread across her face, and she dragged me in for a hug. "How have you been, sweetheart?"
"I've been great," I lied. "How about you?"
"A little stressed, if I'm being honest. Christmas comes with so many to-do's! Gosh, I hope I can complete my check-off list. Have you finished all of your shopping yet?"
"Not quite. I have a few last minute gifts I have to buy still," I responded, blanketing myself in the clean apron that was set out for me.
"Would you like to join us later? We were planning on going to the mall after we finished up with the baking," she invited, simultaneously sifting through a stack of papers.
"I'd love to," I honestly replied.
"Perfect!" she exclaimed.
"Are you hungry?" Jared asked, passing me a plate of freshly baked, chocolate chip pancakes.
"For chocolate? Always," I joked, helping myself to the tasty breakfast delicacy.
"Found it," Mrs. Johnson suddenly announced, taping a flimsy piece of paper on the stone wall above the stove. "Are you ready to continue baking?"
"We're ready," I answered, saluting her. To Jared, I leaned over and whispered, "How long has she been cooking already?"
"Three hours," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes.
I believed him.
Mrs. Johnson was a passionate woman who loved to cook and decorate. She was super crafty--it wasn't unusual to find her lounging on the couch as she worked on a new DIY project. Unfortunately, she also had a tendency to be wildly unorganized.
"Can you stir these ingredients together in that bowl?" Mrs. Johnson asked me, pointing to a huge, blue bowl resting on the opposite counter.
I nodded, dropping the materials on the marble countertop. I washed my hands, and then poured the ingredients into the bowl and whisked them together.
"Jared, honey, would you please start on this part?" Mrs. Johnson asked, gesturing to a separate stack of flour, sugar, eggs, and milk.
"Of course," Jared smiled, making his way to the bowl before smirking at me and rolling his eyes at his sweet, dedicated mother.
"Be grateful," I silently mouthed, rolling my eyes in return. Jared knew my mom and I didn't get along, but he didn't know why.
Jared playfully frowned. "Sorry," he mouthed back. Soon, his seemingly permanent smirk found itself on his face again, and he returned his attention to the task set before him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We had been baking for five hours.
We made pretty much every cookie imaginable. chocolate chip, peanut butter, sugar, peppermint, powdered, snickerdoodle, and gingerbread. Additionally, each cookie was unique in its frosting and shape.
Needless to say: the kitchen was a mess, we were a mess, and cookies were scattered everywhere. The entire table was filled with containers filled to the top with various cookies, and I had no clue how they would manage to eat them all.
Aside from cooking, I helped Mrs. Johnson decorate the house while Jared took a nap. He claimed to have been tired from waking up early for a workout with the Varsity soccer team. However, Mrs. Johnson and I simply agreed he was tired of the holiday festivities.
Mrs. Johnson and I lined the main floor with colorful lights, wall décor, poinsettias, velvety rope, and we even sprayed fake snow on the windows. To top it off, we decorated his Christmas tree, which was real and smelled remarkable. We littered it with a few strings of lights, ornaments, tinsel, and the an angel on top.
Everything was beautiful.
I was so jealous of Jared. His mother was crafty, sweet, and festive. They had a lived-in, yet completely spotless home, and a real tree with astonishing decorations.
"Better late than never, huh?" Mrs. Johnson asked, nudging me with her elbow. I agreed as I admired our surroundings for what seems to be the millionth time.
"Are you ready to go shopping? We can wake up the sleepy-head and head out," she paused, wiping down a countertop. Like I said, their house was unnecessarily neat. "Wow, I'm starving. Are you hungry? Is a turkey sandwich alright?"
"I can make sandwiches, and you can wake up Jared," I suggested, suddenly feeling bad that she even thought to offer to make me a sandwich. I couldn't even remember the last time my mother offered to make me food. Was making lunch a normal thing for parents to do?
"Nonsense! I'll make them, and you can bring it up to Jared. The smell of food should wake him right up."
A few minutes later, I was walking up the stairs with two Coke's, a plate of cookies, and two turkey and cheese sandwiches.
Time to wake up this heavy sleeper...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Thank you so much for the incredible day," I dismissed, waving to Mrs. Johnson and her son. After shopping for a few hours, we ate at an old-fashioned diner before heading home.
"No! Thank you for helping out, honey," Mrs. Johnson beamed, shivering at the chilly breeze.
"Anytime," I replied. I wasn't going to deny the happy mood that spending time with the Johnson's puts me in. "See you later, Jared."
"See ya," he waved. I made my way into the house, eager to get cuddled into my bed. I was about to close the door when I heard my name being screamed from behind me.
"Um, yeah?" I asked, focusing on Jared, who was running towards me with a small tin.
"You didn't think we'd let you leave without some cookies, did you?" he winked, handing me a burgundy dish.
"Thank you," I beamed, laughing a little. "I'll be sure to return the container to you sometime soon."
"Don't worry about it," he dismissed. He quickly wrapped his arms around my frozen body in a friendly hug before walking backwards, throwing his arm up in a wave, and making his way back towards his mom's car.
I hastily opened my front door, enveloping myself into the warmth. However, this warmth was empty. Unlike the Johnson's house, this wasn't a home. This was a house, occupied by a few individuals. My family lived here, but we didn't live here.
This was my house, but it wasn't my home.
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I swear, I didn't mean to make 3 J names (Jared, Jake, and Joey)...oops.
IMPORTANT: OPINIONS ON THE FRIENDSHIP SITUATIONS? ON JARED?