Best of Me

Chapter Twelve

Hello peoples! I finally am done with my winter intersession class and get the next five days to do nothing until the spring semester starts! Which means I'll be trying to crank out the rest of this book to the best of my ability.

It feels oddly weird to be writing a Christmas story when it's long passed, but that's okay.

This chapter is angsty and little painful, in my opinion. So, forewarning!

Also, don't be afraid to comment any feedback or reactions or commentary. Seriously, it's my favorite reading and interacting with you all.

Enjoy!

Chapter Twelve:

The second night of the holidays is always hibachi night. We pile into four different cars with plenty of room to spare and head off to the nearest hibachi place, Ukiyo Japanese Steak House. There are so many of us we get both sides of the table to ourselves, and two chefs to cook for us. They recognize us from all the previous years and happily make sure to make each of us take a Saki shots-everyone except Julia and Izzy of course.

The chef is banging his knife on the grill counting how long Granny Flora has been taking the steady stream of Saki into her mouth. His eyes widen as Granny continues without stopping.

"Mom!" My mom yells at Granny like she's horrified, but she drank just as long. The chef lowers the Saki bottle and Granny gives him a look.

"I wasn't done, son," Granny states blandly, but the chef has his back turned to start preparing the food for us. Granny grumbles but settles back into her wheelchair.

Quinn leans over to her, "don't worry, granny, I'll order us some shots." She perks back up immediately. "If anyone asks, it was Theo's idea."

"You're a devilish one, aren't you?" Quinn smirks in response. Granny looks over at me with an admirable smile on her face, "I like her. Keep her." My eyes meet Quinn's and we share a quick smile before I turn my attention to granny.

"Wouldn't dream of letting her go."

"You don't meet a girl like this very often," Granny says which makes me roll my eyes. She's watched Mulan way too many times, though I really can't blame her. The words leave a sour taste in my mouth and a hefty knot in my stomach. Quinn notices my discomfort and slyly squeezes my knee under the table and shifts the conversation with Granny into another direction. Everyone around the table is in various states of conversation. My parents are chatting with the chefs, Uncle Grant and Aunt Hazel are sneaking shots when my grandparents aren't looking, Jasper and Elliot are both absorbed in their phones, and Julia is talking about some current social justice issue with Mac. Christopher is staring at me, his eyebrow quirked, his mouth set in a concerned line; he tilts his head at me in question. I avert my eyes and pretend I didn't see him.

My eyes drift slowly toward Quinn; she's laughing with granny, her eyes bright and full of life. The dim lights of the restaurant make it difficult to see, but it wouldn't make a difference because I'm only looking at Quinn. I can make out the contours of her face, the shape of her glasses, the little fly away hairs falling out of her bun.

The sound of cheering breaks through the static noise in my head and a hand grips lightly at my arm. I blink and I'm looking at Quinn. She's smiling, but her eyes are searching mine cautiously. "Where'd you go just then?" She asks, but the words a garbled, like I'm underwater. "Theo?" She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it intermittently, the sensation slowly starts to become more and more real as time progresses. My agency over my body returns and I squeeze her hand back.