Our First First Christmas

1- New Old Normal

Ice.

That's all I can see as I look into his normally warm, blue-green eyes. They're cold and bitter as they stare back at me, their obvious purpose to relay a message to my own.

Message received.

I played this moment over and over again a thousand times in my head but the words I had rehearsed all came crumbling down the moment I locked eyes with him.

I expected at least a forced warm hello if nothing else from my best friend since birth. But here he is, right in front of me, all those same emotions swirling around like a blizzard in his irises like they had that night almost three years prior.

But he isn't the same. If I'm being honest with myself, it took my brain a moment to recognize him. I always thought that his eleventh-grade voice drop and the little patch of stubble on his chin was Nick hitting puberty, but now I see I was so wrong. He's definitely taller than before, and dare I say his shoulders are even broader. He lost a lot of weight (but maybe it had still been baby fat)- his face is slimmer, his stubble that he always shaved excessively now forming a light shadow over his jaw and lips. His light brown hair that he always kept shorter in a buzz cut is grown out, tufts of hair peeking out from underneath his baseball cap. He somehow looks both trashy and put together at the same time.

But he's still the same boy I knew. There's still a beauty mark at the bottom of his neck; the little scar from a sledding accident still the same light divot above his lip. His facial expressions are the same, his mannerisms still entirely scream Nick.

And his eyes are still that pretty blue-green I was always jealous of even as they turn away from me.

He's cutting veggies with his mom on the kitchen's peninsula, which isn't an unfamiliar sight. Ever since we were little, his mother's favorite punishment was forcing him to help her cook. I can only assume that now is no different. Even though his looks have changed, he still has that immature, boyish aura around him like always.

A measly, squeaky, "long time no see," is all I can muster up out of my deflated lungs. There's no response, his chopping just gets faster. I shift my heavy duffel bag up my shoulder uncomfortably in front of him in the silence, palming my luggage handle from stress. His mother elbows him in the side. "Nicholas."

"Welcome home." He doesn't bother looking back up. I notice his voice has changed the slightest bit too, not in depth but more in tone. It's gravelly, almost.

"Sorry, honey. Nick's been in a bad mood all week, and he won't tell anyone why."

Ophelia, Nick's older sister, strolls into the kitchen. "He threw a tantrum when he heard you and Anne where coming home for Christmas this year."

"Lia! There's need to share something that. We're all ecstatic to have you back." Irene breathes a big, tired sigh. Both her kids are menaces. I suppose I'm like an angel to her compared to her real children. That's why I'm her favorite. She's even admitted it.

"We all missed you way too much. Especially me." Lia grabs me and pulls me in, giving me a squeeze. "Let me help you unpack."

"Lia, don't make me ask you a third time to set the table. Cassidy, you go and wash up dear, dinner will be ready shortly. Nick can take your bags to your room now and can help you unpack after dinner. Try and curb his attitude while you're at it."

❆  ❆  ❆

"I missed these big family dinners, just like the old days." My mother says, taking a big bite out of her ham.

"It's only been three years, Anne." Irene, Nick's mom, rolls her eyes at my mother.

"Three long, lonely years." She groans. "Maybe I should have stayed here instead of splitting an apartment with Cassidy. It shrunk my lifespan and my wallet."

"So, Cassidy, meet anyone interesting at college? Date any fun boys? That's the best part of college in my opinion." Irene points at me with her fork. "Kissing around."

"Mom. Quit it." Nick grumbles at Irene from across the table, but my own mother quickly intervenes, answering for me.

"Cassidy was too busy on her studies and extracurriculars to have time for kissing around." My mother scrunches up her face at the phrase.

"Actually, mom, I had plenty of time to kiss around. Remember all the late nights at the library?" I cross my arms as my mother gasps. "I wasn't actually studying for my biology exam for the entire weekend." I turn to Irene. "None of them stuck around though. No one to bring home."

She shakes her head. "There's no rush to get tied down, sweetie. They'll find their way to you eventually when the time is right. Remember, we don't chase, we attract."

"If she wants a boyfriend now let her search for one." Ophelia jumps in. "But I wouldn't recommend it. All men are trash."

Nick kicks Lia's legs under the table, earning a coy smile from his sister. "All men except you, my beloved brother."

Soon we're back in the spare room where Nick dropped my luggage earlier. It's a small room, with a plain twin sized bed and dresser. I cleaned it out before I left for college- this was practically my second bedroom growing up, being over at Nick's house more than my own. We'd have holidays here, dinners here. Nick's older sister practically raised us, even though our mothers are still present. Our mothers are best friends; it's just that they don't like to expel too much energy on the home as busy single mothers. Mine's a businesswoman, focusing more on career than family. Irene is more of a social butterfly, occupied by men and going out with friends for drinks after work.

I opted for "sleepovers" on the floor of Nick's room a good number of nights. The weekends would always be sleepovers. We would stay up super late and make ramen or mac and cheese and maybe watch a movie or two. His mother is a light sleeper and a woman keen on her beauty sleep, as well as everyone else's, so we would go around the house with flashlights and whispers and see how long we could go without getting caught.

"For the record," I start awkwardly to try and break the unease between us, "I actually was studying for my biology exam all weekend. Biology is actually really frickin' hard. I just get mad at Mom when she answers for me like she knows everything. She's been doing that a lot lately." She's one of those mothers who act like their child is a business investment, thinking education is more important than anything else, scared I might say or do something that will give people a bad impression of me.

He hums in response, throwing my luggage onto my bed and zipping it open.

"How's community college been?" I say, grabbing my things out of my bag and laying them across the bed, before freezing at Nick's response.

"I dropped out after a year."

"Oh."

"I've been working full-time at a new restaurant called The Olive Branch where the old Pizza Hut building was on Main Street. It's a mom and pop with Greek food." He looks me dead in the eyes. "But you wouldn't know that."

"Hey, look. I'm sorry for not coming back until now. I just thought we both needed some space after..." I let the rest of the sentence trail off, figuring there's no need to go into depth about what happened before I left for college. Even after all this time I gave it to cool off it still feels like it happened yesterday, and I can tell the burn is still hot in both our subconsciouses.

"Yeah, that was kind of shitty of you. Even if you didn't..." He swallows thickly. "...except my feelings, I thought we were at least still best friends."

"We are."

"Best friends don't block each other's numbers-" He closes my dresser drawers, "I think you can handle the rest." I snap my gaze down to where my luggage is and all my clothes are put away except for my underwear and toiletries. I'm in awe of how fast he put them away, or maybe I was too caught in thought to realize how much time passed.

Nick leaves without another word, and I'm left in the silence of the small room. Sitting down on my bed, I open my phone and look at my contacts. I had blocked Nick's number. It was the only way I could focus in college. If I hadn't I would've just kept staring at the keyboard, never deciding on what to send.

I pull up his number and hit unblock. I stare at that keyboard again, before finally deciding on something I should've sent a long time ago.

I'm sorry.