Chapter 5 Josie
JOSIE
For a week straight, the Elf Shelf battle continued. I hid it in one of his suit pockets. He hid it behind my shampoo and conditioner. I stuffed it in his top drawer just to find it in my top drawer before that same night was up.
Until one day, he barged into my room.
“Hey, Dickhead! I’m getting dressed here!” I pulled my shirt down about as far as I could to cover up the fact that I was only in panties.
“Keep this shit in your room!” He threw the Elf at my bed, purposely missing me, but it still startled me.
“What? It’s a harmless prank! I thought you were having fun with it too!”
I searched his face. It wasn’t like he’d just put it back on my desk or bed every day. He’d been hiding it, too, after the first time.
“I told you, no Christmas decorations!”
“Not even a harmless stuffed elf?”
“Nope, not even that. Also, you listen to way too much Christmas music, and it’s driving me mad.”
“You are impossible! I can’t even deal with you.”
“Look, this is my place. You’re just renting a room. So keep all your holiday bullshit in there.”
“Why are you so against any holiday decorations?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume something traumatic happened to you when you were younger, around or on Christmas.” I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes, watching him closely to see his reaction.
He tried to be stone-faced, but I caught a little twinge of head movement.
“Fuck.” I muttered.
“What was that?”
“I’m sorry.” My tone had completely shifted. I had been forcing him to face something that was a traumatic memory for him, and all the while expecting him to ‘lighten up’.
“What are you sorry for? I just don’t like this holiday.”
“Look, I get it. I suffer from PTSD and can’t handle some things. I’m sorry I pushed you.”
“You’ve got it all wrong. I don’t have PTSD.” His tone was defensive and deflective all at once.
I wanted to get him to open up. I knew that he needed to. But he just didn’t realize it yet, and at this point, it wasn’t right for me to push him.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You just went from shoving holiday shit in my face to not even trying anymore? You’re giving up that easily?”
“You win some and you lose some.” I tried to play it all off.
“Okay. Fine.” He stepped around me and made his way into his room. Without looking at me, he continued, “I’ve got plans with some friends tonight, so I probably won’t be home until really late.”
Then he closed his door without giving me a chance to respond.
“Ugh!” I let my frustration out as I semi-stomped back to my room and let my door slam shut.
He was impossible to deal with most days. It wasn’t just about the holiday decorations but about practically everything else as well.
He refused to try my pies, despite pleading with him. He rolled his eyes and groaned like a child whenever he saw me watching anything Christmas-related. Hell, there were days that I swore he looked at me with disgust.
But what was the most frustrating was how badly I wanted to break through his tough exterior. And why did I want to? Was it because I’m a bleeding heart who just wants to help people? Or was it because of something more?