Snowed In

/ 11:17 P.M. - Bristle's Dorm Room /

Christmas eve was supposed to be all, well, Christmas-y. I think James thought that too, because he started playing some Christmas songs on the way down to my dorm.

"Really?" I deadpanned. This kid loved Christmas more than Santa loved his cookies, and that was saying something.

James looked at me with a blank expression, then right as I was about to comment on that, he put a finger to my lips. The close proximity of us in the elevator made me blush.

"Listen."

Oh, if I could choose, I would never spend another Christmas without ya.

And if the fat guy in the chimney comes through,

He'll give me the opportunity to all wrap ya.

If you could feel the color of your blush deepen, then I swear I did. He simply had a casual smile on his face. This kid really- I just- He was confusing. A confusing mess I needed to find out more about.

The elevator opened and I was quick to almost sprint down the hall to my dorm. Coral had decorated our door, putting CORAL in big bright blue letters. I pulled out my key and as I was about to unlock the door, I felt the punk behind me, and may I add, way too close behind me.

I could feel his breath on my neck, he was breathing erratically. It seemed like the time-line between the song and now made him a tad more hyperactive.

Instead of spitting out some smart-ass comment, I ignored him and entered my room. The living place was a bright blue with a white accent, black furniture and a small TV, all courtesy of Coral. He whistled.

"Wow, Coral always said she was doing interior design as her major, but wow."

I felt a twinge of negative feelings wash over me, I tried to swallow it. I don't know if it was jealousy, madness, or insecurity, but boy, it was something.

"Yeah, she practically locked me in my room to make sure I didn't mess it up." I looked at my shoes through my brown hair, scuffing them. I then started back in the small hall towards my room. My door was possibly the only thing I was allowed to decorate. It had a picture of my ex-boyfriend and I. (I know, I know, you still keep pictures of your ex? Yeah, because I love the memories).

I twisted the knob and went in, expecting James to follow as well. Though, as I turned back, he was fixated to the photo on the door. It was kind of scaring me, the look he had. It was blank, yet again. He then looked up, pursing his lips.

"Who's this?"

I smile softly and went to rejoin him. His name was technically Zach McKollough, but I ended up with a simple answer, "Just a memory, now come on."

I re-entered my room, looking around, trying to remember where I hid my sketches. When I found them under my bed, I plopped down there, and when James looked at me I motioned him to sit next to me. When he did, there was a silence.

"My art is your stars," I cleared my throat, scooting a bit closer to him. I opened the rugged book to the first page, which resulted James to gasp and snatch the book. He flipped through them, skipping some, or really studying some. I watched him closely, as if I depended on his reactions, on him to find out more about me from my drawings.

Somewhere in there, I ended up closing my eyes. I listened to the flipping of pages. Only when I felt him nudge me did I decide to open my eyes. He looked at me, his eyes filled with emotions of all sorts.

I had no time to ask him what he was about to ask before his placed the journal back in my lap, the page open to the one he must've stopped on. The chills on my body wouldn't stop as I saw what he had stopped on.

It was my favorite drawing, I must admit, it was the only piece I spent countless hours straight on. It was a drawing of this blonde-haired beauty, she was all made up, her eyes shined, the whole ten yards. She casts this big shadow so dark, it could make anyone in it invisible. Though, you could see a girl in her shadow. With brown hair covering her face and dull clothes, dull face, dull everything, it was me.

"Explain it," He said softly pushing his hair out of his eyes so he could see me.

If only he could've just read my mind. I took in a breath, "Well, it could be taken in many different contexts. One could be that this girl is hiding in the shadow of someone superior to her, someone she yearns to be. Another could be where this girl is in the shadow of society's expectations because she can't reach them. Another could be that she is just left in a shadow, because she doesn't feel good enough."

I almost punched James in the face as I felt his thumb wipe my cheeks, but only then did I realize I was crying, so I let it go. There was a silence, one that was accustomed to James and I.

He finally spoke up, "Why do you feel this way?"

I laughed a bit, wiping my tears. It was a bittersweet type of thing. I smiled at him. "That's for a different time," I laughed again.

James opened his mouth to say something, but closed it quickly. He kept opening and closing it, fighting with himself it seemed. When he finally decided on what to say, he smiled at me.

"Bristle, truth or dare?"

//Video on the side. It's December 21st. I really hope I can cram write this story in time for Christmas. Have a good night.