As my eyes flutter open, I can't help but feel like there's a strange absence beside me. As I roll over and face an empty bed, I realize why. Sitting up, I rub my eyes groggily before noticing a note on the bed next to me where Margot was just hours ago.
Aspen,
A couple things. One, did you know that you drool in your sleep? It's both cute and absolutely disgusting. Two, Ivy kept texting you right after you went to sleep and I didn't want to wake you so I just texted her and told her that you were ok. Three, I just hope you're feeling better. I wish I could've stayed for longer but it is Christmas Eve. So four, happy Christmas Eve? Whatever. Text or call me if you need anything else.
- Margot
The note sets off so many thoughts in my head that I nearly have trouble choosing which ones to focus on: the memory of the kiss, the pain from those memories, the memories Margot and I made that were a decent attempt to cover up the pain, the fruitless hope that Ivy texting me represents a type of love despite my knowledge that this love has been clearly displayed as absent, the realization that it is in fact Christmas Eve.
And so I try to focus on the most positive, as that's what most people would tell you to do isn't it? Think positive.
Margot's laugh is the first thing that I can remember from last night. Then I remember her hugs. She had a way of holding onto me tightly to where I never felt suffocated but instead felt safe and cared for. She was never the one to pull away first. Next, I recall her stories and the tidbits of information she gave about herself. I repeat a couple in my head a few times so that I remember them.
And yet as much as I wanted to stay positive, the negativity eventually creeps in as if it never left.
Except all the negative now is sharply directed towards me. It tells me how I'm not good enough and never will be. I had years to get Ivy to fall for me and yet Jaxon clearly managed to do it in the span of a couple months.
And maybe there are some things that I could work on. Maybe I'm a little too annoying. Maybe I'm a little to loud sometimes. Maybe I don't work hard enough in school. Or maybe I'm just not smart enough to begin with. Maybe I'm not a lot of things: not pretty enough, not funny enough, not honest enough, not stable enough, not....
Not enough. That's what it all boils down to.
Ivy's known me for years and probably knows me better than anyone. And perhaps that's the problem. She knows too much. She knows I'm a mess and doesn't want to have to handle me.
And I can't help but think that's understandable.
Text or call me if you need anything else.
My eyes wander down to look back at Margot's words. Maybe I should call her.
However, once I open Margot's contact back up on my phone, my finger hovers over the button to call her. It's Christmas Eve and she probably wants to spend the day with her family and not be bothered by me. I surely bothered her enough last night.
Fuck. I'm such a burden.
And maybe that's what pushed Ivy away from the possibility of ever liking me as something more than a friend.
That thought is what leads me to call up the one friend that has constantly stuck by my side even when they haven't exactly always wanted to.
"Hey, Aspen. What problem of yours do I need to solve now?"
"Fuck you,"
"Dude. We're both gay. I'm just interested as to how you would think that could happen," Dustin says with a chuckle.
"I could turn you straight," I joke with a shrug.
"Oh. I don't deny that, but you'll still be gay. So what then?" Dustin asks me, clearly amused.
"I mean, you're already a bottom right?"
The other end of the call goes dead silent for a moment.
"I'm not even sure how to respond to that. So I think I'll be going now...."
"No! Dustin, wait!"
The phone call then hangs up. Bitch. With a sigh, I call him back and he decides to not pick up until after the fourth ring, as if to make a statement.
"Dustin McCob. And this is?"
"The bestest friend you've ever had who you just hung up on," I say sickly sweet.
"I don't remember having a phone call with Ivy," Dustin jokes.
The sound of her name hits me like a sack of bricks. I go silent as my breath catches in my throat.
"Aspen.... You still there?"
"Can I come over?" I manage to choke out. I can almost sense Dustin's demeanor change with the sound of my voice.
"Shit. Yeah. Of course. Do you need me to pick you up? Or I could even come over to you-"
"I'll be there in ten," I simply tell him before hanging up the phone call and finally letting out the sobbing and the tears that I had been holding in. Yet at the same time, I try to stay as quiet as possible because I'm not exactly sure who's home at the moment and don't want to cause any unnecessary worry.
So after a good minute or two of crying, I decide to wipe my tears and head downstairs to go to Dustin's house.
————
Dustin's worried expression only deepens once he lays his eyes on me.
"Shit," Dustin says under his breath.
"Is that a sly way of telling me what I look like right now? Because believe me, I know," I try to crack a joke despite the serious air of the situation. Dustin offers me a fake smile, his worry for me clearly preventing anything more.
"Come on," Dustin simple says before stepping aside and letting me walk into the house. Dustin's house is similar to mind in many ways. The lay out is generally the same though the bedrooms and bathrooms here are upstairs and the only room other than the kitchen, dining room, and living room on the lower floor is his mother's study. The McCobs are a decently sentimental family, Dustin's mother being the head of such decorating. The only art displayed throughout the whole house is "creations" made by the children within it and collections of photos hang on nearly every wall of every room.
"Who's here, D?" I hear Dustin's mother yell from the kitchen as the sound of running water almost cancels out her voice.
"Aspen," Dustin answers.
"Door stays open," his mother yells at him, and I can't help but notice the irony.
"I know, mom," Dustin says almost in a whiny tone.
"Merry Christmas Eve, Aspen!" his mother calls after me, making me smile slightly.
"Merry Christmas Eve to you too, Mrs. McCob," I call back.
"My aunt's having us over for Christmas again tomorrow," Dustin explains why his mother is staying in the kitchen rather than walking over to greet me.
"I swear, your mother and aunt have the strangest relationship,"
"It's not normal to obsessively compete over who can cook the best food for the holidays and make the entire family judge and turn against each other as a result?" Dustin asks jokingly. I pause for a moment, as if contemplating.
"Well, never mind. That will totally be Alex and I in twenty years,"
Dustin chuckles at this as I follow him up the stairs and into his room where he quietly closes the door behind us. Dustin's room is rather basic for a teenage boy, muted dark colors with a general "plainness" to it. The only true sentiments he holds are the pictures set on the top of his dresser.
One thing I really do like about Dustin's room though is his movie collection. He quite honestly owns one of the most extensive movie collections I've ever scene, all neatly and thoroughly organizing on a decently sized bookcase. He owns nearly any movie I can think of and even has multiple copies of a few. Yet he still doesn't usually let people borrow them, scared they'll scratch the disc.
"Oh. What a bad boy," I say, wiggling my eyebrows as the door closes.
"Shut up,"
"Where's the little brat? I didn't see her," I change the topic.
"The litter terror is probably organizing a sophisticated tea party in her room about now," Dustin says with a shrug, though I can clearly see the love for her he holds in his eyes.
"Of course she is," I huff.
Having met at such a young age and quickly becoming practically attached at the hip, Dustin and I almost instantly adopted a brother/sister type of bond. Growing up, I was just the "annoying little sister" to my actually brother whereas, while I was probably still annoying in Dustin's eyes, he nevertheless wanted to hang out with me. Therefore, I can vividly remember the day that Dustin told me he was going to have a sibling. My heart was broken, but I still held out hope that he would get a little brother and I wouldn't be directly replaced. Then Alesia came along.
But after spitting up on Dustin after one of the first times he got to hold her, she quickly became the "little terror". And despite Alesia quickly growing out of that title as she became one of the most sophisticated children I knew, only listening to classical music and oddly enjoying proper tea parties with her stuffed animals, it stuck. Further, it served as a reminder to me that I would always be Dustin's first little sister and makes me smile every time it comes out of his mouth.
"Well," Dustin plops down onto his bed and turns to face me, "what's wrong?"
Suddenly, the memories and feelings that I had strived to repress bubble to the surface yet again. As it turns out, joking and avoidance can only carry you so far before you crack. Before I crack.
And that's what happened. As I fall into Dustin's open arms for a much needed hug, I quite honestly don't have many more tears to shed, though I'm sure the frown speaks for itself. My body feels heavy and my chest aches. And while I want to tell him everything, I also want to just tell him nothing at all.
"I'm sorry. I would've went to Naomi but she's on vacation. And-"
"Wait. Was I the second choice?" Dustin pulls away from the hug and holds me by the shoulders so he can attempt to look me in the eye, something I quickly avoid.
"I just-"
"You know I'll always be here for you, dude. I always have been. Kindergarten crew,"
Even if I'm not looking at him, I can still picture the lopsided smile on his phase because of that title. Kindergarten crew.
"Yeah! You always have been. And when's the point where you get tired of being there?"
"I won't! You were there for me when my dad...."
Dustin trails off and I feel his body shift slightly, so I follow his gaze across the room to the photo of his dad displayed on his dresser, one of the strongest and kindest men I have ever met who truly died too soon defending his country when Dustin had only just entered the sixth grade . I see pieces of him in Dustin some days and I wish he could've seen it for himself.
"And you were there when my mom left," I say, lowering my voice to match his tone.
"What is that? A rebuttal? Are you trying to say that we're even or something?" Dustin snaps at me, clearly slightly torn up because of the reminder of his dad.
I stay silent, not exactly sure how to respond.
"If that's how you're playing, then you'll just have have to owe me one, I guess," Dustin says with a shrug. I glance up at the boy before leaning forward to fall back into his chest.
"What's wrong?" Dustin asks again, as he runs his fingers comfortingly through my hair.
"Ivy kissed Jaxon," I plainly state. Dustin stops moving for a moment as I feel his entire body tense up.
"Shit," he says under his breath. I let out a pained laugh.
"Yeah,"
"Are you okay?" he asks me.
"No," I say with yet another forced laugh.
"I know," Dustin says quietly before moving his arms to wrap them tightly around me. It's one of those hugs that just forces you to cry, with so much sympathy and care that the tears just pour uncontrollably from your eyes. And that's what happens. As Dustin whispers words of reassurance to me, I loosely wrap my arms around his torso and just hold on.
After a few minutes, my tears finally dry up and I'm able to pull away from my best friend so that I can sit on the bed beside him.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Dustin whispers to me, as if unsure if it's the right thing to ask right now.
"I don't think there's much to talk about," I say with a shrug. Dustin nods in response, but he already triggered my thoughts to begin racing again. So I choose to ask the question that stands out most, the one that I most need to be answered.
"Am I not good enough?"
Dustin turns to look at me with wide eyes, as if shocked by my question.
"What do you mean?"
"Am I not good enough for her?"
Dustin lets out a sigh as he shakes his head.
"You can't rate your worth on this, Aspen. You are one of the most amazing people I know and Ivy would've been lucky to be with you,"
"Then-"
"Maybe you two just don't fit like that. And that's okay. You don't need to. You'll find someone who you perfectly fit with and when you realize that, you'll be able to look back and see all the wrong here. Maybe things could change and that person could be Ivy. But you're such a catch that I can't imagine there aren't others out there for you, others that are going to want to sweep you off your feet right from the beginning with no hesitation," Dustin tells me.
"Thank you, Dustin," I say quietly as I rest my head on his shoulder.
"Any time,"
We sit in silence for a few moments before Dustin suggests we watch a movie to take my mind off of everything. Yet, I still manage to completely zone out during the movie to think about what Dustin said.
One day I'll find my person that fits.
While the statement gives me hope, it also brings sadness because it points out the strong possibility that person isn't Ivy. And I had always imagined it would be.
"Hey. What did I say about leaving the door open?" Dustin's mother's voice resounds around the room as the door swings open.
"Sorry. Must've forgot," Dustin makes up a half-assed excuse, clearly still concentrated on watching the movie.
"Hmph. Forgot. Sure," his mother says with an eye roll before turning to me.
"Hey, sweetie. Sorry I didn't get to say hi earlier. Things have been a little hectic in the kitchen," Mrs. McCob says with a small laugh, and I offer her a smile in return.
"It's alright. I understand. Though, knowing how much of an amazing cook you are, everything probably still turned out wonderful,"
"Kiss-ass," Dustin says under his breath, covering it with a fake cough. I pinch his leg I retaliation before turning back to Mrs. McCob who is still smiling politely at me, clearly having not noticed Dustin and I's little interaction.
"Oh. How's your father doing?" Mrs. McCob asks me, as if I don't know that question was her whole point in coming up here.
"He's doing fine. He's been working a lot recently because of the amount of snowfall," I tell her.
"Oh, yes. Well make sure you let him know that he's also welcome around here any time just as you are, Aspen,"
"I'll make sure to do that, Mrs. McCob,"
"Oh. It's Sharon. You know that, sweetie. I swear, you and Dustin have been attached at the hip for as long as I can remember," Mrs. McCob says with a laugh.
"Well, I'll leave you two be. I hope you have a merry Christmas tomorrow, sweetie," Mrs. McCob says.
"Thank you. And I hope you have one as well,"
With that, Mrs, McCob walks back through the hallway and down the stairs, most likely to put the finishing touches on her dishes so she can absolutely beat her sister's ass tomorrow. As soon as he hears her reach the bottom of the steps, Dustin jumps up to quietly close the door yet again which earns an eyebrow raise from me.
"I wasn't actually serious about that whole 'fuck you' thing earlier but...."
"Gross no. I just didn't think my mom would appreciate hearing us discuss her obvious crush on your dad," Dustin replies.
"Yeah. And?"
"And that's been our dream for as long as we can remember right? We could be actual siblings, dude," Dustin says, though he's clearly half joking.
Yet it still pushes my mind to really think about the situation: my dad, the man still recovering from his wife walking out in him by nursing a bottle of alcohol almost every night, and Dustin's mom, a sweet woman who lost her husband in the Air Force only a few years ago who clearly doesn't deserve to have to take care of my dad.
"Yeah. I think I'll pass," I say, trying to pretend in a way that my passing is due to Dustin himself and not my father who Dustin doesn't know is broken behind closed doors.
Dustin pushes me over playfully and it's then that I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.
Ivy: Merry Christmas Eve! Sorry I didn't text you sooner. Things have been kind of hectic over here!
Taking in a shaky breath, my fingers move over the screen to reply.
Me: It's alright. Merry Christmas Eve!!
"What's up?" Dustin asks, clearly reading me like a book.
"Nothing," I brush it off before tucking my phone back in my pocket. However, it's not even a minute before I feel it buzz again and I hesitantly look at the message, not sure if I actually want to have a conversation with Ivy right now. Yet, some luck clearly is somehow in store for me.
Alex: Dad just got home so get your ass over here for a family dinner
Aspen: Ew.
Alex: I would flip you off if I could
Aspen: Ever heard of emojis, asshat??
Alex: Ever heard of using punctuation like a normal person, shit for brains?
Aspen: !!??
Alex: !?
Aspen: Bitch..
"Hey. I've gotta go. Family dinner," I say to Dustin as I lock my phone and shove it into my pocket, ignoring it as it continues to go off with what I assume to be messages from Alex.
"You wanna invite my mom to that? I'm sure she'll love it,"
I send him a glare before hopping off of his bed and making my way across the room.
"Wait," Dustin says just as I open the door. I turn around, confused, and am suddenly enveloped in a bone crushing hug.
"You'll be ok,"
————
"Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up," Alex says dramatically as I walk into the dining room where he and my father are sitting.
"Well, well, well. Look who is still as annoying as ever,"
"You could've done better than that," Alex says with a huff.
I just roll my eyes at him before sitting down in my usual spot and filling my plate with the food neatly organizing in the center of the table.
"Store bought?" I ask my dad as I point to the chicken in the center. My dad doesn't respond, but instead gives me a look as if to say: "obviously".
I smile before digging into the food, having to catch up with my dad and brother who clearly didn't want to wait for me to get home to begin eating.
"So," our dad clears his throat as if we weren't already listening to him, the only person in the room speaking, "I'm probably going to be plowing snow tomorrow. But your grandmother is having Christmas dinner over her house and I expect you two to be there,"
"What is she making?" Alex asks the important question that we both were wondering.
"Probably pierogis? I don't know," our dad asks, slightly exasperated.
"Ok. We'll be there," I decide for the two of us as Alex nods in agreement.
"You two are so strange," our dad says, shaking his head.
"And you raised us. So what does that say about you, old man?" Alex says, pointing his fork accusingly towards dad.
"Some pretty unfortunate things apparently," dad says, shaking his head solemnly.
The rest of dinner goes by pretty quickly, most of us too concentrated on our food to really talk. It's rather peaceful that way. Mom was always the one to keep the conversations going.
"Hey, Aspen," my brother hisses at me before pulling me aside from collecting the dirty dishes on the table, our dad taking a work phone call in the other room.
"You've been acting.... different lately," Alex tells me.
"What do you mean?"
"I just.... are you okay?"
"Wow. Do you actually care?"
"No of course not," Alex says with a huff.
I hum in response before I continue the task I was previously carrying out.
"It's just. I'm your big brother. I'm here for you, alright?" Alex tells me as he follows me into the kitchen.
"Mhm,"
Alex lets out an exasperated sigh before shaking his head.
"Ok. So I know I wasn't really there for you when we were younger. I get that. But I am seriously here for you. After mom left.... well, I'm just here for you. Ok?"
"Ok," I confirm. I stare at him for a minute as if trying to decode the situation before finally giving up and appreciating it, though I would never admit that to him out loud. He's still an assface of a big brother. And yet I strangely enough wouldn't want him any other way.