Chapter 28
“There is absolutely no way I’m wearing these,” I said. Tanner had handed me a pair of green pajama pants and a bright red shirt covered with images of candy canes, Santa, and cookies.
“Christmas Eve tradition,” Tanner said. “We all have to.”
“No,” I said again.
“Mom will kill you if you don’t,” Zach said lazily, as Gavin laughed next to him.
The four of us were in the basement; Christmas music came from upstairs, and the smell of holiday cookies hovered around us. Zach and Gavin already wore their pajamas, and Tanner raced off to the bathroom to change into his.
When he came back, a piece of a white-powdered cookie dangled in his hand and another in his mouth; a third piece had fallen across the front of his shirt. I hated how even when he acted like a slob, he was still cute.
“What other traditions do I have to look forward to?” I said as I grudgingly pulled up the pants and tossed my shorts on the ground next to me.
“Pictures,” Tanner said. “Lots and lots of pictures.”
“We also sleep down here. So, keep your snoring down,” Gavin said.
“I don’t snore.”
“Yes, you do,” Zach and Tanner said together.
“Yeah, well… you guys could have told me,” I said, grabbing a Hershey’s Kiss from the bowl on the floor and unwrapping it; the chocolate started to melt as soon as it hit my tongue.
“You’re dumb,” Zach said.
“The cousins and stuff come over tomorrow night to play cards, too, but you know about that one,” Tanner said.
I caught his eye, and my cheeks blushed the same red as his. We were both remembering two Christmases ago when Gavin had walked in on us hooking up almost in the exact spot I sat right now.
That day had been the best Christmas of my life until that point—people everywhere, the Quinns making the place feel like home. They had even gotten me new batting gloves, which had been more than I’d ever expected. It’d probably been Tanner’s idea.
Then Gavin had shown up while Tanner had been on his knees in front of me, and I’d run out of both of their lives. I’d apologized to both of them a zillion times before, but the more distance I got from that night, the guiltier I felt. I’d abandoned Gavin, as if it were his fault.
Even worse, I’d acted like Tanner wasn’t a person. Like we hadn’t been friends. Like we hadn’t... anyway, I was lucky he’d ever forgiven me.
“Who’s all coming tomorrow, anyway?” I asked. I’d recently started trying to get myself out of negative headspaces, and subject changes were always a great way to accomplish that.
“Like a dozen cousins and their parents will be here,” Tanner said. “Cal’s going to be in town, too.”
I forced my eyes to not roll.
“I always invite Jake,” Gavin said.
“I’m inviting Nicole this year for the first time,” Zach said.
“So, you guys are inviting your dates? Can I tell Maissie she can come, too, then?” Gavin asked as he looked at Tanner.
“I’m not in charge. I’m sure you can, though.”
“That’s starting to get serious, then?” I asked.
“We’ve been dating for like six months,” Gavin said aggressively. “Of course it’s serious.”
“So, like, serious-serious?” I laughed, moving my eyebrows up and down.
Gavin blushed as red as his pajama shirt. “If you really need to know, we both want to wait until after we graduate before we do anything like that.”
“Ohhhh, so little Gavin is too scared to have sex, then,” Tanner said, mocking Gavin in a way I’d never seen before.
Gavin adjusted his body and looked at Tanner, as if weighing his words. “Nah. I don’t want to nuke my relationship the way you and Easton did yours.”
I wasn't sure what hit the floor first—Tanner's jaw or whatever was left of my composure. Zach burst out laughing and offered Gavin a fist pump, which he ignored. He was serious.
“Not cool, dude,” I said.
“Wasn’t trying to be.”
“You didn’t have to say it like that,” Tanner muttered. His arms crossed over his chest, his muscles flexing as he squeezed his biceps.
“Wasn’t trying to say it any way at all.”
“Well, it came off like you being a little shit,” Tanner said, his voice stronger.
Gavin sat up straight, as if bracing for a brotherly brawl to break out, his legs stiff and his feet on the floor, ready to pounce. Gavin might even have been big enough to take Tanner now, his build quickly molding into Zach’s.
“Alright, you three,” Zach said, still laughing. “Tanner, you deserved that. Gavin, don’t be a douchebag about stuff like that. Now settle down because I’m not explaining to Mom and Dad why Christmas Eve ended with another ER visit.”
I guessed I’d never looked at it from Gavin’s perspective. He’d really had a first-row seat to what’d happened between Tanner and I. Had our mistakes had that much of an impact on him? I guessed it made sense that they had.
We settled down for the night and spread out blankets across the floor before turning off the lights. A Christmas Story played on the TV, the volume a near whisper (apparently, another Quinn tradition).
Tanner and I took the outside of the sleeping arrangements, with Zach and Gavin creating a barrier between us. Gavin ended up inches away from me.
“I’m still mad at you for that comment,” I whispered at him, finding that spot under his ribs he hated to be tickled on.
“Yeah, well, you ignored me for three months one time, so I get a comment when I want one,” he said through spits of laughter, always unable to hold back.
“Good night, kid,” I said, finally releasing him from the torture.
“Night, Easton,” he said.
I put my head on the pillow and looked up at the ceiling.
How had I gotten to this place? It was Christmas Eve, and I was wearing too-tight pajamas on the floor of the basement in a house I now called home with three guys I’d kill for.
Did I deserve this—to be a kid again, waiting to give out presents in the morning, with my best friends right next to me?
No, whispered a small voice that used to be much louder. Then another voice whispered, Maybe. I forced myself to listen to the new voice as Ralphie talked on the TV screen, and my mind wandered into the land of dreams.
I wasn’t sure who woke up first the next morning, but by the time my eyes were fully open, so were the other three sets in the basement.
“Mom says we can go upstairs now,” Gavin said, not even waiting for the rest of us to stand before he jogged away.
I pulled down the pajama shirt and wiped boogers out of my eyes as we made our way to the top of the stairs.
“Pictures before presents,” Mrs. Quinn said from the doorway of the kitchen, her face merry and bright.
The three Quinn boys lined up next to each other as Mr. Quinn handed them Santa hats. I lingered behind, unsure where to place my hands. (Or feet. Or body.)
“Quit being Edgy Easton and get over here.” Tanner smiled at me, tossing a hat in my direction.
I grinned back and joined them, Gavin and Zach putting their arms around me as Mrs. Quinn snapped photo after photo. She finally released us, and Gavin sprinted toward the tree; I hoped he’d never figure out he was too old to act like Gavin.
The five of us followed Gavin into the living room, and I looked over the mountains of presents that had formed underneath the tree.
Mr. Quinn sat in his chair, the steam rising from the mug of hot chocolate in his hand; Mrs. Quinn sat on the couch, the aroma of her tea mixing with the smell of the tree.
I sat next to her, smiling at Zach, Tanner, and Gavin on the ground, each of them unwrapping a present; wrapping paper and the sound of it tearing was everywhere.
“Easton,” Mrs. Quinn said.
I looked over, enjoying the Christmas morning atmosphere. “Yes?”
“Go get on the floor with the boys and find a present with your name on it.”
Presents? For me?
I stumbled onto the floor as Gavin handed me a small box wrapped in green-and-red paper. “From Santa, To Easton,” it read. Mr. Quinn’s handwriting.
“We all got one of these, so we need to open them at the same time,” Gavin said. “Ready?”
“Sure am,” I said, my fingers finding tape in the corner and ripping. The Apple logo appeared on each of the four boxes as wrapping paper got tossed to the side.
That was how it went for the next half hour: gift after gift. The Quinns had gone overboard, even for them. My favorite gift was a box of nothing more than new socks and underwear; it showed the simplicity of what they were doing for me.
The last two Christmas mornings at my grandparents’ house had been silent and stiff, filled with quiet thank yous for gifts I honestly had no use for. Yes, I appreciated them, but those Christmases were nothing compared to the chaos, laughter, and flying paper now surrounding me.
Then I got to my last gift of the morning.
“Tanner helped us pick out this last one for you three,” Mr. Quinn said as he handed a box to Zach, Gavin, and me.
I tore open the gift nearly as quickly as Gavin did. The box brushed against the backside of my hand as I reached inside and grabbed a handle. I pulled it out and realized what it was—a new bat. I put the grip in my hand and gave a half swing as I felt the weight and the length in my wrists.
“Whoa,” I whispered to myself. My first bat since Mom. I walked over to Mrs. Quinn and wrapped her in a hug so fierce I thought I might split her in two. “Thank you,” I said as she patted me on the head, letting me know I could release her.
Why were these people so good to me?
Then I remembered I had gifts to give out, and I ran up to Tanner’s room. I picked up the five envelopes, thrilled Nate had given me a job so I could buy presents. They’d cost more money than I should have spent, but I had to.
I raced back downstairs, my feet skipping off the ground, the bell at the end of my hat jingling all the way. “So, I got you guys a gift,” I said, handing out the envelopes.
Gavin still had his bat in his hands but put it down when I reached him.
“I thought, like—” I started, pulling in a breath, watching as they unwrapped tickets to the Cardinals Opening Day game. It was a game I’d always dreamed of going to, and I knew they’d enjoy the heck out of it, too. “I thought we could go to Opening Day. Kind of like we were a family.”
There was a slight pause as everyone looked at the tickets—they weren’t great, but they were what I could afford.
“You’re so stupid,” Zach said, his eyes rolling.
“We are a family, Easton,” Gavin said, exasperated.
Mrs. Quinn walked over to me; this time, she gave me the hug.
After we ate breakfast, Tanner, Gavin, and I made our way into the cage in the backyard. Snow had fallen on the twenty-third, and it had decided to stick with a decent three inches across the grass.
When we got to the cage, we lifted up the mats we had placed in the batter’s box to catch the snow and hauled the white stuff I hated so much outside the cage. It wasn’t necessarily the snow I hated; it was when the snow turned into slush and we couldn’t hit that I was bothered.
We took a couple of rounds, my new black Nike bat stinging my hands as I made contact in the winter cold. When it was Gavin’s turn to hit, I watched a blur of orange and yellow fly through the air as he smacked ball after ball against the net.
These weren’t the dull thuds of Gavin’s hits two years ago or even the sharpness of his hits at the end of summer; his hits now had the oomph of somebody who could drive the ball with absolute authority whenever and wherever he wanted.
At one point, the whoosh of the ball was nearly as loud as the ping of the bat, and I thought he would put a ball through the netting.
“Nice round,” I said as I entered the cage to help pick up the baseballs scattered on the ground.
“Thanks,” Gavin said as he dropped to pick up a ball from the snow.
I grabbed his new bat and looked at the label. The words “Hype Fire” were sprawled across the top of it with the company logo and name—which also happened to be mine—beneath it. Yeah, I was named after a baseball company, but it was fun to see it on equipment.
Tanner saw my fingers on my name as I took in the new bat. “I figured Gavin was so obsessed with you, we’d get him a bat with your name splattered all over it.”
“Oh, shut up, Tanner,” Gavin said, tossing a ball into the bucket. “It’s kinda cool, though, right, Easton?”
“Yeah, dude,” I said, handing him back the bat.
Gavin grabbed it and started rubbing the barrel with his fingers, not looking at me before speaking again. “Sorry about what I said last night.”
I flinched as I walked toward another ball. “You’re fine. You weren’t wrong.”
“Yeah,” Tanner chimed in. “Easton and I crossed a line we shouldn’t have when we weren’t ready. It screwed us up for a bit.”
It’d screwed me up for longer than a bit.
Gavin took a beat before asking, “How about you and Cal then?”
Tanner looked at me, but I kept my eyes on the snow so they wouldn’t land on Tanner.
“Say what you want,” I said, both wanting and not wanting to hear what came next.
“It’s different with Cal,” Tanner said, rubbing the back of his neck. Fog came out of his mouth when he continued. “We don’t have to hide. Back in high school, I wasn’t even out.”
Just going to ignore the fact I wasn’t, either?
Tanner glanced at me again, like he’d plucked the thought straight out of my head. “With Cal, it’s simple. We’re not sneaking around, not worried who finds out. We’re just... together. So, yeah, we’ve hooked up. But I get why you’d want to wait, Gav. It’s not life-or-death the way it used to be.”
With me.
If I hadn’t acted like an ass, had been more comfortable with myself, that could’ve been us. Probably would’ve been.
Instead, I stayed in my lane, firmly planted where I could survive.