Our First First Christmas

4- Green Against White

When he had confessed, it had been messy, and rushed. I remember the night so vividly- every detail, every feeling, just like it was yesterday.

It was the night before my early flight to New York. I was wide awake in bed from anxiety, knowing full well that I wasn't going to get as much as a wink of sleep that night. But when Nick showed up outside my window in the middle of the night, I was grateful for the distraction.

What if I had never opened that window? Would things have never changed? Or would we have grown like this, anyways?

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"Come out. I have to tell you something important before you leave." He speaks fast and short like he's scared I'll leave any moment now, like he only has a second to say enough to fill hours.

I let him help me down from the windowsill and we sit down in the grass. For the middle of the night its bright outside, the stars and the moon full in the sky. There's a slight chilly summer breeze that leaves goosebumps on my bare arms. His hands are shaky as they take mine.

"What's wrong?" I ask, worried at how strange he's acting.

"You're going off and growing up without me; meeting new people without me. Everything's changing so fast, and I feel like if I don't say this now, I'll never get the chance." And that's when he pulls out that box- a pastel green with floral gold decals. It's beautiful, and small- a box that would hold jewelry. It makes me freeze up, nervous to where this was leading. He's never given me anything like this before.

"I'd do anything for you, Cass. You know that. Anything to stay with you. And I need to be honest with you, and myself. I can't let it continue to brew while you're gone. I want to be yours and only yours. Forever. Please just give me a chance. I promise I'll never leave you and make sure you're always happy and-"

"What?"

He sucks in a shaky, excited breath. "I'm in love with you, Cassidy Byrne."

I'm too stunned to speak, feeling like my lungs have been completely sucked of oxygen. Like my best friend just kicked me in the gut and threw me to the ground.

"Why are you doing this? We're best friends. You- you're not supposed to do this." I'm on edge with everything changing at once. It all needs to slow down.

I'm sick to my stomach in this moment. It's heavy and it twists up my insides and I know it very well. Fear. Fear of the future, fear of the unknown. Fear of everything changing and not being able to ever go back again. Usually Nick would be my rock, anchoring me to the present and easing my worries. But in this moment, he's the very cause of it. The cherry on top.

I stumble to my feet and turn to my window to leave. He grabs my hand but I pull it away. And as I yank my hand out of his grip before walking away, I utter the last words I'll say to him for the next three years.

"Nick, please don't do this."

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"Nick, please don't do this again," I say as he grabs my hand and places the box in my fingers even though I resist, "Please just let it go."

"I can't to let it go. No matter how much I want to. I spent three years trying to get over you in every way possible, which included forcing myself to hate you. But now that you're here again those years of making my memory of you negative was pointless. All the angry, spiteful feelings washed away in an instant. I guess I could never get myself to even really dislike you."

"I love you, Nick. I really do. But I don't love you like you think you love me, alright?"

"How long have we been together? I know you better than you know yourself, and I know for a fact that you like me back. You're just scared of change. Well, news flash, Cassidy!" His voice is loud as it echoes over the frozen lake. "Things are always changing. Get over yourself."

"Get over myself? Get over yourself! I wish you had never confessed. You should've kept it to yourself. You ruined everything. And now you're standing here angry at me for something that's not my problem." I hate that he had to go and make anything change. We could have been happy as best friends. I love being best friends. And I don't want that to be ruined by shifting feelings.

"I'm sorry I screwed everything up," he says sarcastically, "I should've just kept my mouth shut but I was young and stupid and hopeful, and I thought-" He pauses, noticing people are starting to stare. "I'm going home."

"Hey-" my voice cracks. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He picks up the skates and returns them to the stand before reluctantly coming back.

"You'll be okay walking back alone, right? You remember the way home?"

"Of course," I frown and watch him stuff his hands in his coat pockets and disappear down the path, his head low.

I sit and watch the people on the lake. I can't wrap my head around how Nick actually likes me in a romantic way. And why I can't get myself to believe I like him back. What even is the difference between my love for him and his love for me? The butterflies in his stomach? But when you're that familiar with someone, there are no butterflies. Or at least, I never recognized them as such. Does Nick get butterflies around me?

I watch a couple as they hold each other while they move slowly on the ice. The man takes the woman by the waist and kisses her... When Nick looks at my lips does he get the urge to kiss me? 

If he kissed me, would I stop him? Would I want him to stop? Would I finally give in and accept his feelings?

Every time I think about Nick loving me, I'm sent back to that night; what I felt that night. I always dismiss those thoughts, push those memories down, because I don't want to relive that night. Is the reason I'm so keen on not loving him back because those feelings are attached to that night? To that night's fear and change?

I caress the small box in my fingers, and finally look down at it. But if I separate the two...

I close my eyes, erasing the green box from my vision. With shaky hands I flip it open, and when I open my eyes again, I only focus on the inside. No more green; just white, and a gold ring, one I recognize immediately. It's a Claddagh ring. I used to be obsessed with my Irish heritage, researching and blabbing to Nick about everything I found. For years after I found out they existed I had "planned" out my dream wedding, with the Claddagh ring as my wedding ring. The ring consists of two hands holding a heart-shaped diamond, the diamond adorning an intricate gold crown. The heart represents love, the crown represents loyalty, and the hands represent friendship. That's why I always loved the ring so much- how much meaning it held behind it.

Inside the box there's also a slip of white paper in Nick's sloppy handwriting, reading 'Whichever you choose, please never take off this ring.'

I can't stop myself from bawling my eyes out in public. I'm not sure how long I sit on that bench, staring at that ring, but by the time the ice-skate-stand lady comes to ask for her skates back, I've made up my mind.

What more do I have left to lose?