[18+]
College student Hadley Bell is eager to return home for the holidays, but there's a problem. Her ex-no. 44 Nick Baker, Professional Snocross Racer and member of the Bell Race Team, still resides under her parent's roof.
Tensions run high, and...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
We ate dinner like we would back home, minus mom and dad.
The boys laughed, sharing stories with Janelle of last Christmas while I finished the sugar cookies. I smiled down at the L-shaped counter, unable to ignore the sorrow that crept in as I frosted.
My mom always baked the cookies, leaving me to frost and Baker to sneak in and taste test nearly every one.
I wiped my hands on my apron as the table's laughter filled the tight space.
They came. My brothers came, but as grateful as I was, I couldn't shake that missing piece of mourning in my chest.
Everyone rose, giving their attention to the living room where Johnny collapsed onto the couch and flicked through Netflix. "What are we watching?"
The boys fought over what Christmas movies were better while they cleared the table, insisting they clean. At least my mother raised them right I thought, retreating to my bedroom to grab a pair of sweats, my coat and a pair of socks.
I needed space. If only for a minute.
I made my way to the balcony, avoiding the bed Janelle made on our plush living room rug. "Are you okay?" she asked, quiet so the others couldn't hear.
"I just need some air," I smiled. It wasn't a lie. I was dying from the heat of the stove.
She didn't seem so sure but didn't prod. Not as Nate drew her attention when he asked where the tea towels were.
The night was cold. Not as cold as back home and void of any stars, but it would do.
The sounds of the city rose from the streets below—car horns and light traffic that snaked through the avenues before crawling up the walls of our apartment building.
My heart yearned for the quiet of the cabin. For my bed and Baker's touch.
I curled into myself, lifting knees to my chest as the world went on.
We would've gone out today. Just the two of us. Before the boys and my parents.
A tear slid down my cheek as I took out my phone.
The screen lit up in my hand as I eased back into the armchair.
Pictures of this past week lit my screen—all of Janelle, the boys, Baker.
The door slid open and I locked my phone before Luke could see. "You alright?" he asked, easing into the chair across from me.
"I'm fine," I lied, brushing away a tear before he could notice.
Luke didn't seem so sure. "Do you want to talk about it?"
I looked out to the city lights beyond. "There's nothing to say," I replied, knowing to whom he was referring.
