Leah opens the basement door. "Chris?" she says. She listens for an answer but doesn't get one. She tries again. "Chris, you down here?"
"Yeah," he says at last.
She takes a deep breath and goes down the stairs. She steps onto the white-carpeted floor.
Chris is lying on the couch, drinking a beer and watching some crime show. He glances back at her, then at the television.
"Hey," she says.
He doesn't respond.
She tries to ignore the awkwardness and sits down on the couch across from Chris. She crosses her legs and watches the television as well. He watches Criminal Minds? she thinks. Is this even safe?
Chris looks at her, wondering why she hasn't left yet. He raises an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be upstairs celebrating or something."
She shrugs. "So should you, but here you are."
"I'm atheist. I don't believe in Christmas."
"That doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself with friends."
"I have no friends."
His words hit Leah strongly, and she doesn't understand why. Does she feel pity? Sadness? Does she want him to see her as a friend? Well, whatever it is, it leaves a small twisting feeling in Leah's chest. "Maybe you should try making some."
"Pass. I'm perfectly fine with my two good buds: Budweiser and Bud Light."
She rolls her eyes. "I think you'd like my family. They make good friends. I mean, they can be annoying at times, but...yeah, no. Never mind. Not even I would want to make friends with my family."
He sets down his beer and looks at Leah. "Why do you even care so much whether or not I make friends? I know by now that i'm not exactly your favorite person in the world."
"That's true. You're not. But I care about everybody equally, whether I like them or not."
Taking a second to think, he moves himself up to a sitting position, now giving Leah his full attention. "You don't like me."
Leah chooses her words carefully. "Well...it's not that I don't like you. You just tend to, I don't know...you tend to be an unlikeable person sometimes. You don't exactly have a class-A attitude."
"It doesn't seem to change how you think of me."
She closes her mouth. Her throat closes as she prays this is not going down the road she's been avoiding. "If you're talking about how I think you can be a nice person and how you can work a little harder to change--"
"No. I'm talking about how you're developing feelings for me no matter how nasty I am."
She stares down at her hands. She runs her thumb over her red-polished nails. "That's not true."
"It's not? Look at me and say that again."
Her chest tightens, but she looks up at him, anyway. She looks him right in his eyes, his dark and intimidating eyes, and nearly shudders visibly. She builds the strength she needs to say it, and speaks. "That's not true." Fail. A complete fail. Her voice is shaky and balances between a whisper and her regular voice.
"It's not true?" he raises an eyebrow.
Leah opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Nothing's allowed to come out; her throat is too tight to even breathe. Not quite sure what to do now, she shoots up from the couch. "I think my dad made it too warm in here. Must be the thermostat. I think I need the bathroom for a moment." She hurries to the bathroom.
