Chapter 5: Holidays, Heartbreak, and Hope

Winter break.

I took the girl back to her home for the holidays. I wanted her to have a real family Christmas, even if just for a night.

"Ah, go… go to my place?" she stammered, but there was hope in her eyes.

"Of course."

I nodded. "You think I’m joking?"

We packed up and arrived. Her mom was waiting at the alley in a nice wool coat—I’d told her ahead of time. She looked nervous, but happy.

"Mom."

The girl’s eyes turned red. She ran over, then glanced back at me, embarrassed. I gave her a thumbs-up.

I waved her on. "Go on, what are you waiting for?"

Her mom smiled gently and hugged her daughter. She’d always loved her. Sometimes, reality crushes ideals. People might set aside their pride for a while, but not forever. I watched them, feeling like I’d done something good.

On Christmas Eve, the three of us ate turkey in that little duplex. I bought sparklers and handed them out. The smell of cinnamon and pine filled the air.

"Let’s go light them!"

The run-down buildings crowded together, but in the outskirts, there were no restrictions—fireworks burst in the sky. I waved a sparkler, the girl and her mom playing awkwardly at first. I grabbed a skyrocket, lit it, and turned to see them hiding far away.

…Six.

Whoosh—

The rocket exploded in the sky. We all cheered, laughing like kids.

Midnight.

"Merry Christmas!"

The girl nudged me shyly.

"Mason came to see me."

I raised an eyebrow, glanced at her mom, and understood. I patted her shoulder, speaking sincerely.

"Go on, but don’t let that boy steal you away."

She blushed and ran off. Her mom laughed, shaking her head.

"Where’s she going?" her mom asked.

I sighed, giving her a meaningful look. "She’s off to be someone’s sweetheart."

Her mom thought for a second, then laughed. "She moves fast."

We shared a smile. For a moment, everything felt right.

On Christmas Day, I took the girl to the boy’s house. He looked stunned to see us at his door, covered in dust from chores, dressed in black. The place smelled like coffee and old books.

"What, not happy to see us?" I crossed my arms, raised an eyebrow.

"No…" he stammered, trying to hide his face.

"Why so shy? Neither of you should look down on the other."

The girl peeked at him, smiling shyly. He ducked into the kitchen, muttering about lunch.

He hurried to cook. I looked around—there was a photo of him and his grandpa on the wall. The frame was cracked, but the smiles were real.

"Your parents not coming back?" I asked, eating an egg.

He paused, then looked at me through his bangs. "No, I don’t think so."

He lowered his head. The girl looked at him with concern. I glanced at her, feeling like a mom trying to marry off her daughter.

"How’s your grandpa?"

In the script, the boy’s grandpa died this spring. Losing family and the girl’s accident pushed him over the edge. I wanted to make sure that didn’t happen.

His hand trembled. He stayed silent.

I calmly continued, dropping a bomb.

"Focus on your studies—let me handle your grandpa. Everything will be fine."

He looked up sharply, eyes usually full of apathy now brimming with tears. He didn’t know what to say, choking up and covering his face. The girl put her hand on his shoulder. The two of them cried like kids.

…

Damn, now I feel like the bad guy. But sometimes, you have to be the tough one.

I closed the door, leaving them alone, and went for a walk. Standing by a frozen pond, hands in my pockets, I looked up at the sky and let out a long breath, feeling something inside me fill up. The world was cold, but not hopeless.

It’s kind of amazing. Meeting someone can change a story—everyone’s ending shifts because of each other. I hoped they’d remember that.

Senior year’s winter break was short. Everyone soon returned to school. I found time to visit the boy’s grandpa, spoke with his doctor. It wasn’t a big problem—just the hospital neglecting his calls for help. The boy happened to be out of touch, so the hospital covered it up, blamed him, and cremated the body without consent. I transferred his grandpa to a top hospital in the state with dedicated care. I made sure he’d be okay.