Twenty Eight

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"Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock..." Alice sang to herself as she flipped the fluffy pancake. In spite of the sour mood that had overtaken her leading up to Christmas, she woke up that morning feeling determined to make the best of it. The savory smell of bacon sizzling in a frying pan always seemed to cheer her up.

    Besides, this might not be her only Christmas alone. She may as well start getting used to it.

    "Jingle bell 'round the clock..." she mumbled, placing the pancake and a couple strips of bacon on her plate. Looking fondly at her meal, she placed it on the table and walked back to her cupboard in search of the perfect wine glass.

    After inspecting several glasses to find one that fit the holiday spirit, she settled on a slightly tacky wide-mouthed glass with a gold finish along the rim. Smiling, she brought it to the table and filled it with orange juice.

    That was a tradition in her family since she was a little girl. Every Christmas all the adults would be drinking their boozy coffees and chomping on liqueur-filled chocolates, so to make Simon and Alice feel more included, they were allowed to drink their orange juice in the fancy wine glasses. It was always so fun; clinking her orange juice against Simon's, trying to sound as mature as possible as they would make toasts to the -

    No. Don't get sentimental, Alice.

    Her arms fell to her sides and she towered over the innocent looking juice, staring at it blankly as if it was the poison that caused her stomach to feel as though a hole was being burned through it.

    Without a second thought, she shook the memory from her mind and poured the orange juice down the sink.

A few hours later, she emerged from the shower in her coziest checkered flannel pajamas, drying the edges of her hair with a towel. The clock on her stove read 2:56 and Alice was growing restless, tapping her hands against her thighs as she wandered aimlessly throughout her house.

What to do...What to do...

She could do some work?

As soon as her eyes landed on her laptop, her face fell.

"Screw that," she said. "No one works on Christmas."

In the corner of her eyes, she spotted the poorly wrapped gifts from Blaise and Emily and smiled. How could she have forgotten about the presents? They were the only ones she would be receiving that year, after all.

She rushed to grab the presents and sat down on the floor beside the miniature Christmas tree she and Emily had set up weeks before, reminding herself of a young child. After a long struggle and a broken nail later, she managed to rip the paper off of Blaise's gift to find two packs of cigarettes with a sticky-note that read: "Stop stealing mine. Happy Christmas! - Blaise xx"

She giggled at the note and happily put the free cigarettes to the side before reaching for Emily's gift. The same battle with the wrapping paper and duct tape ensued, but when the corner of the was revealed, she snorted and nearly dropped the present on the ground. Her whole body shook with laughter as she reached for the note that was written in Emily's loopy handwriting and covered with doodles of Christmas trees and hearts.

"Let's be honest, this probably feels better than Mark or Isaac, anyways," the note read with a winky face beside it. "Merry Christmas, girl! Love you!"

Alice immediately texted her friends a long, loving thank-you for the gifts before sitting on the couch and opened up the pack of cigarettes. With a smile still spread on her face, she lazily scrolled through the messages on her phone, until her finger rested on Isaac's name.

Beer, Spaghetti, and Pharmaceuticals ||COMPLETED||Where stories live. Discover now