8:11 AM
"So how exactly did you get the invite to this soiree again?" Brooks asks.
"Soiree. What an excellent word for it," I laugh at him.
"Thank you, I've been working on some new vocabulary. This New Years Eve party. Isn't it very exclusive?" He asks.
"Someone my dad works with knows someone who is a big donor. Friend of a friend," I laugh. "My parents are doing Prague this year, so I got stuck with Vail."
"Stuck with?" He smirks. "It's Vail."
"It's Prague." I make my eyes big, like I'm saying Duh, Prague > Vail.
"Seems you lucked out if you ask me," he says, shrugging beneath me.
God that smirk. "Lucked out? You think so?"
"Sure do. Better company," Brooks says, his eyes wild. "So what exactly is this elusive exclusive party?"
"Soiree," I correct him, laughing.
"Soiree," he nods.
"It's supposed to be this crazy time-capsule party. No expense spared." I say.
"Time capsule party?" He repeats, raising his eyebrow at me.
"If prohibition was stranded in the mountains surrounded by wilderness but the booze was falling like snow." I nod.
"Really painting a picture." He laughs.
"I try."
"So we dress the part?" He raises his brow.
"Sure do. You'll be suited up." I say.
"Can't wait to see you in one of those tiny flapper dresses. Can't wait to take it off either." He laughs. I laugh.
"Yea, yea," I laugh, tossing a pillow at him.
"And everyone is coming? Meg and Trix and the guys? Alex too?" He asks.
"Yes, Alex is coming," I say. "Think he's bringing Katie –or that chick from the summer."
"Oh, OK." Brooks shifts. I can't unhear the weird tone of his words.
"OK..." I drop it.
I crawl from the bed and cringe at my dress chillin' in a ball on the floor. I cannot believe I'm about to do the walk of shame from my ex-boyfriend's hotel room ...in my hometown ...on Christmas Eve Day.
"Can't you stay tonight?" He asks, his voice masking some weird hopeful-hopeless hybrid of a feeling. "It's Christmas Eve. Who flies home on Christmas Eve?"
"I know," I say quietly.
"And you're flying home to be alone," Brooks says, like he's reminding me.
"I know," I say again.
Visions of Brooks and sugarplums dance in my head. WHY. But I know I can't stay. Can't spend Christmas with him.
"You're always so ready to leave me," he says.
"I learn from the best," I tease. Well, I meant to tease. He shifts uncomfortably. Shit.
"You're never going to let me forget it, are you?" He asks, his sad eyes slaying what's left of my soul.
"Nope," I smirk. "But don't worry, I won't forget it either." I try to laugh when I say it.
Brooks sighs and rolls his eyes. He decided against a comeback. Good.
"I really do have to go," I mumble.
"I will drive you."
I'm not sure I want Brooks to pull up to my driveway and drop me off at my parents like we are still in high school or like we didn't just spend the night together. I am however definitely sure I do not want everyone strolling the streets in town to see me walking back, heels in hand and shame in tow.
"OK." I nod.
He smiles and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling my back into his chest.
"I'll see you next week," I laugh, stressing each word.
"Five more minutes," he says and scoops me back onto the bed.
"Brooks, I have to go!" I try to squirm out of his grasp. His hands are tight around me.
"Nah, I'll let you stay." He teases.
"You are impossible, you know that?"
I stare into his beautiful seafoam-blue eyes. I'm so close I can see the yellow specs freckling his irises. Yellow specs of sunlight.
"I know that."