A Christmas Carol

Chapter Seven

“If you had to choose your biggest regret, what would it be?” Noel asked me, taking a sip from the mug of hot chocolate he had made earlier and subsequently earning himself a whipped cream mustache. I watched him out of the corner of my eye until he wiped it off on the sleeve of his hoodie.

I sat and thought the daunting question over, turning my own red and green polka dotted mug in my hands as I pondered. My biggest regret? I had a lot of regrets looking back, but none of them stuck out to me as something big or terrible. In fact, any regret that I could think of off the top of my head involved little things that I wouldn’t take back. How was I supposed to pick my biggest regret when I couldn’t even think of a single one that stuck out?

“I think that my biggest regret is not having enough regrets,” I finally settled on admitting. “Sure I have a ton of minor ones, but I don’t have any major regrets that stick out. And I don’t know, sometimes I don’t wanna be like Charlotte who lived this perfect life and was a perfect child. I wanna live, make mistakes, learn from my mistakes, and get in trouble for something worth getting in trouble for and not something stupid like forgetting to do the dishes. Is that weird?”

Noel shook his head as he studied a sparkly burgundy and gold ornament that dangled off of his Christmas tree that we were both sitting beside and set his mug of hot chocolate on the floor beside him. After a full day of watching Christmas movies and relaxing on the couch in our pajamas next to each other, we needed time to sit and talk and give our tired eyes a break from the illuminated screen of his flat screen television. I wasn’t exactly sure how we shifted from our positions on the couch over to the floor next to his family’s dazzling Christmas tree that glittered within the otherwise dark household; it just sort of happened. We’d probably been sitting there for twenty minutes, either talking about pointless things or sitting in silence, deep in thought. With Christmas Eve right on the brink of arriving the following day and still no promise of the snow storm on the other side of the country letting up or any positive word from either of our parents, we needed each other more than ever.

“I don’t think that’s weird.” Noel glanced over at me and our eyes locked. “I think that while it’s important to be careful and use a good sense of judgment, doing things you’re not allowed to do and sneaking around more is a part of growing up. It’s like a mark of independence, I guess.”

Sighing, I hugged my knees to my chest as I averted my gaze to a little homemade ornament that Noel must have made when he was a little boy. The ornament was an upside down outline of his little hand on brown construction paper with googly eyes, a nose, and pipe cleaner antlers on the thumb to represent a reindeer. The Henleys’ tree happened to be full of homemade ornaments from back when Noel was a kid, I noticed. I smiled faintly to myself.

“I feel like everyone around me is growing up and I’m the only one who’s still stuck in my childhood,” I mumbled with a faint blush creeping up my neck as I trailed my eyes around the strand of lights which provided the primary source of light in the otherwise dimly lit living room. I wished that I could open up to Noel the way he had opened up to me yesterday. Of course, it wasn’t easy for him at first, but once the words came tumbling out, he had gotten comfortable talking to me. I wanted both of us to be comfortable to talk to each other. I wanted a relationship with Noel.

I just wanted Noel, in general.

“I feel like I’m growing up too fast,” he replied. “Sometimes I wish I would just slow down and enjoy my childhood while I still have it before I become an adult for the rest of my life.”

I hesitated before answering. “Do you remember when we were kids and you said how you would never grow up and made me promise to do the same because I was so determined to grow up back then? What happened to us?”