Adeline
“Let me get this straight?” Nat asks over the phone. “Your extremely good looking boyfriend with a cute Irish accent is going to Vegas for New Year’s?”
“Careful.” It’s a video call, so she gets a front row seat of me struggling to wrap Christmas presents. “Or people might start thinking you like men.”
“You’re completely fine with this?”
“Why do you sound doubtful?”
“Remember when you dated that piece of shit Sebastian”—she exaggerates the name by gagging—“and you panicked because he went partying on his dad's yacht without you?”
“Okay, admittedly, Sebastian is an awful example.” I met him when I snuck out to a nightclub. He had no business dating a sixteen-year-old, and I had no business dating a guy with a coke habit.
“Yeah, now that I think about it, maybe Dad is correct when he says you pick the shittiest guys to date,” Nat deadpans. She’s on the couch in her living room, her hair sleek and frizz-free after a full day of work.
“Dad is just mad Mom told Ciaran that he’s welcome to come over for Christmas.”
She’d made it sound like it was a given already. Dad might have been close to an aneurism.
“You’re seriously okay with Vegas?” Nat asks.
“Why do people keep asking me this?”
“I don’t know,” Nat says with a quizzical tone, her lips pursing as she frowns. “It’s just. . .”
“What?” My fingers get tangled in tape, a box slipping out of my hands.
“You’re acting a bit mature.”
“Thanks for sounding surprised by that.”
“I mean,” Nat clarifies. “Like you’re more confident.”
The box slips from my hands again. I haven’t felt confident in a long time, but how can I explain that to my sister? She’s got Lia, her girlfriend of ten years, and a brownstone in Brooklyn.
I’m actively avoiding my dorm room. I hyperventilated after my statistics final because I’d been so scared of failing. My boyfriend started dating me because he wanted a mafia princess on his arm. Jokes on him—he got one hot mess of a princess.
“I mean you’ve always been confident,” Nat says, and my frown deepens. “You know, marching around in high heels and telling most men to go fuck themselves. Sebastian was shit, but the meet cute was hot. Just grabbing a man and kissing him out on the dance floor.”
“When I told you that story, you launched into a lecture about how it could be classified as sexual assault and said I needed to immediately cease and desist when it came to dating men.”
“Of course I did. You were sixteen, and you’d snuck out of the house!” Nat pops a piece of chocolate in her mouth. “But now you’re in university and you seem. . . more laid back.”
“Are you saying I was uptight before?”
“You try too hard.”
It’s an unvarnished truth. The best way to describe Adeline Marie Akatov. The girl who kills herself trying so damn hard.
I’d told Ciaran to be a better pretend boyfriend instead of admitting I’d gotten trapped. Nat’s sisterly talk would make me feel better if there wasn’t a rock in the bottom of my stomach.
Under no circumstances can my family ever find out the truth about Ciaran and me, about how things are ten times more complicated than they seem.
But surprisingly, she’s right. I don’t care about Ciaran jetting off to Vegas with his cousins. They should explore while they’re in the US, and I can already envision how much the bartenders will love them.
Ciaran asked me again if I’d like to go when we were both fully awake and back in his apartment. I hadn’t been lying about my Christmas plans.
After my last final, I’d packed a bag and gotten the hell out of those dorms. I’d spent a few days at Ciaran’s apartment, but now I’m back home. My days are about sleeping in, watching TV with Lennie, and family festivities. Christmas has an especially warm feeling to it this year.
Ciaran is going to spend most of Christmas Eve with his family before coming over. Then he flies out to Vegas for New Year’s.
“I thought you’d be sad.” Nat breaks off another piece of chocolate, a sign that she too is partaking in the holiday season. “Missing out on a New Year’s kiss.”
My own family is surprised that I’m so chill with Ciaran going away because of all the times I’ve snuck out to go partying. I can see where the mistake lies, but Nat has touched on a slight truth.
“I will miss a New Year’s kiss,” I murmur, trying to tie a green ribbon around a box. “But it won’t end the world.”
Nat hums under her breath. “I feel like you’re about to experience a good time in your life. I’m excited for you.”