London Boy | Jamie Flatters

Thirty-one

Christmas 2022

"Eden," Trinity calls up the stairs loudly, "we're gonna take a family picture, come downstairs."

    I sigh, pouting at my phone screen, where Jamie's face is taking over my screen, tiredly smiling back at me. The time difference was something we had yet to get used to. While it was only 3:00 here, it's nearing 11 pm there. It was hard to keep up with one another. The two of us almost always missing one another. "I should probably go," I say, frowning.

    Jamie's holding his phone so close to his face I can only see him, his blue eyes piercing even through the screen, "okay," he whispers tiredly. God, I miss him. Being over the phone just wasn't the same... I longed to be held by him and kiss him until I felt dizzy. "I got the notification saying your gift was delivered. Did you get it?"

    "It was?" I say, confused, shaking my head. Standing up, I grab my phone from where it's propped up on my desk, moving out of my room. I hadn't bothered changing out of my PJs yet. We never do on Christmas... it's our family's thing. This year, our PJs were matching plaid, with slippers that made it feel like I was walking on a cloud, "did anything come in the mail for me?" I ask my family, walking down the stairs.

    Trinity hums, thinking it over. "Don't think so."

    "That's odd," Jamie chimes in, "said it got there this morning. I paid for faster shipping."

     Rolling her eyes, Mom scoffs, "They probably brought it to the Johnsons again..." For some reason, our delivery people must have a hard time reading numbers because our packages almost always end up next door, at our nosey neighbours who love snooping through our packages before returning them.

    "I'm just gonna go check," I say to my family, who are currently setting up a tripod and camera for our annual family photo. Jamie's screen is now blank, turned from facetime into a regular call, "Where'd your face go?" I say, frowning, "I want to see you."

    Jamie laughs, a tired sound that fills my stomach with butterflies, "I don't know what happened," he mutters, and I can imagine his brows furrowing together as he tries to figure out what button to press, "trust me, I want to see your face too."

    "You two disgust me," Trinity chimes in, gagging playfully.

     Mom ruffles her hair, "you won't always find it disgusting," she's smiling fondly. She's met Jamie a few times, and when I told her and Dad we were together, she was overjoyed, claiming she knew we'd end up together eventually. "One day, you'll fall in love too."

    "Trinity isn't allowed to talk to boys," Jamie says sternly, still figuring out his phone, "I won't allow it."

    Dad laughs, "I knew I liked this boy."

     I roll my eyes, walking out the front door. It's a perfectly sunny day in LA, the air sticky and warm, with a breeze that felt warm like a blow drier. I didn't bother grabbing a coat, allowing the sun to warm my bare shoulders, covered only by spaghetti tank top straps, "on a scale from 1-10, how embarrassed will you be if the neighbours open your gift cause there's a pretty good chance they already have?"

    "You sure?" Jamie asks, his voice coming from somewhere nearby, echoing through my phone's speaker a second later. Pausing, my heart leaps as I turn on my heel. Jamie's standing behind me, phone in hand, "Merry Christmas, Trouble."

    He grunts in surprise when I jump into his arms, hands moving to my thighs to hold me up as I wrap my legs around his torso, my arms wrapping around his neck, "oh my god," I whisper, laughing excitedly. His cologne hits me as I bury my face in his neck, a familiar scent that I hadn't realized I had missed this much until now, "I-I thought you were in London? H-how are you here?"