Xmas 2022 - 5 of 12

Your house is supposed to be safe, warm, and the best place in the world on Christmas Eve.

Oof.

The fire crackles as you sit on the loveseat. Your hands are in fists on your knees and your back is hunched. There’s a sickly feeling like you’ve just been called to the principal’s office. But you are not the one in trouble.

Kayla’s curled up on the other sofa, texting away contentedly. She’s wearing an oversized flannel shirt. There was a time when you’d have noticed her bare legs and the way that doesn’t care at all about her gray, cotton panties showing. You have other things on your mind now. A plate of Christmas cookies sits nearby, untouched.

There’s a slight sound, and you look sharply at the dining room doors, which are tightly shut and locked.

“Only you could ruin Christmas this hard, sis.” There isn’t much feeling behind Kayla’s words. She is mildly inconvenienced by this, but that’s all. You look sadly at the pile of gifts under the tree. You were able to do really well on gifts this year because of FUTA money, but that will be overshadowed by… other things.

The doors finally open. Michelle emerges from the dining room. She looks cautiously neutral and very cute in her ugly Christmas sweater with snowflakes and some kind of little robot on it. Her Santa hat is askew and she pushes her thick glasses back into place. Your mother stands behind her in a more tasteful sweater, arms folded, face stony.

Michelle walks over and you hop up, taking her hands.

“I think I should spend the night at the hotel tonight,” she says quietly.

You figured. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“I can’t stay here with her,” you say, glancing in your mother’s direction.

You had to do this. Your mother had to find out that you and Michelle are together. Breaking it to her at Christmas… not your best work. Your mom just spent the last half-hour savaging Michelle in her quietest voice.

The atmosphere in this house… you feel bad, but you have to bail. Leaving Kayla and Mom like this is bad, but not as bad as staying.

You firmly take Michelle’s hand and walk her out the front door. It’s chilly. With the door shut, you finally breathe again.

“It’s my fault,” you say apologetically. “I’m sorry. The timing was bad. There must have been a better way.”

Michelle takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand. “Don’t beat yourself up. Most would argue that I am the bad guy,” she says with a little smile.

“You’re only, uh, eleven years older than me,” you remind her. “That’s not that much.”

She just smiles at you.

“My mom will get over it,” you assure her. “It’ll just take a minute. I promise.”

“I ruined Christmas.”

“Uh… we ruined Christmas. Mainly me. It’s okay. There’ll be another one next year,” you say. It’s weird to be the one giving a pep talk to Michelle. It was always the other way around when she was your coach. But… it’s the fact that she was your coach that’s the problem for your mom. She probably thinks that Michelle is taking advantage of you. You can’t really… explain to your mom that you had been touching yourself thinking of Michelle long, long before Michelle even knew you had a penis, let alone touched it.

You shake your head. Then you point upward at the mistletoe.

“Anyway,” you say.

“Huh?”

You kiss Michelle passionately. She’s startled, but goes with it. You hug each other tightly and let the kiss last. When you finally loosen that soft, warm embrace, you see your mom at the window, glaring.

“OK!” you yelp, grabbing Michelle’s hand and pulling her down the steps. “Hotel. Hotel.”