While You Were Pretending

Chapter Nine

Even after all these years, even being a nineteen-year-old college student, I am wide awake Christmas morning. If I did sleep eight hours, it sure as Hell didn’t feel like it; the knowledge that Jackie was downstairs making me toss and turn all night. Excitement? Worry? Probably a mixture.

Body itching to get out of bed, around nine o’clock I figure it’s safe. Both my parents have always been early risers and are probably having tea in the kitchen. Sweatpants on, hair pushed back, I rub my face as I walk into the hall. Walk into the hall and right smack dab into someone.

A small someone, “Oh, sorry, M -” but then I see her, “Uh, Jackie. Sorry,” and I take a huge step back.

Hair gorgeous – thick and mane-like. Her face is fresh and clear, and that no-makeup makeup again. In another thick sweater, this one is a deep red, matching the burgundy in her plaid skirt. Pale, tight legs for days…. She pulls out her necklace from under the crew neck, “Hi! Sorry, I just needed to change before I go over to Mom’s.”

I notice her giving shirtless me once over. I notice her giving a rather fit me a twice over, her cheeks flushing. Her eyes quickly find a place next to my ear. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

“Did you want to eat something before you go over? My mom always makes cinnamon rolls. A whole two packs – way too many just for the three of us.”

Nervously, she tucks hair behind her ear. Her head is straight, her eyes looking up at me from under her lashes – the way girls do when they like someone. I can even see her pupils dilate. “S-sure. That would be lovely.”

She quickly steps towards the stairs. “I think your mom said something about tea. See you down there.”

In the bathroom, I’m pleased to see I’m not a mess. I freshen up, grab a shirt, then head downstairs. Mom and Dad are sitting in the usual seats on the far end, Jackie sitting the opposite of my mom. When they all look up and greet me, I realize this is something I not only could see but want to see in my future.

*

So many people, such a little living room. Grandparents, parents, Uncle Jimmy and his family, Aunt Lynn and her husband, and then me. Two couches, two armchairs, chairs pulled from the kitchen, and still, I sit on the floor. We each try to keep a little pile of presents by our feet, but there are so many items and wrappings everywhere.

Minding my own business, I’m reading the back cover of a new paperback. Suddenly, cousin Lindsey couches by me. “I didn’t know you and Peyton are finally dating.”

I don’t look up; this subject comes up every year. “We’re not.”

“They why did she say so on i********:?”

Looking at her now, my brows furrow. “What?”

She shows me her phone, “It’s a picture of you two from the party and she captioned it ‘couple’s first Christmas’ with all these coupley hashtags.”

Jesus Christ. I try to smile, “Just an inside joke.”

Lindsey squints, “Uh-huh, sure,” but gets up anyway.

As quickly as I can, I text Peyton.

What the f**k Peyton?

What?

The i********: post?

I never agreed to lie on social media.

Oh, that.

It’s NBD.

Peyton, com’on.

What?

Lindsey is showing my whole family your post.

So what?

I don’t want to lie to them.

It’s only for another week.

Just tell them it’s a joke or something.

I don’t understand how this is helpful.

Why would Jackie care?

She cares.

Please?

But right when I’m about to call it all off, Peyton texts again.

I’m finally not comparing myself to her.

I finally feel good about my life.

I haven’t had a single panic attack this whole time.

Please, Luke, this is helping so much.

Not on social media, okay?

Just change the description.

*

All my Christmas gifts unpacked, I sit on the edge of my bed, twirling my phone in my hand. If I’m honest with myself, I’m mad at Peyton. If I’m honest with myself, I don’t want to see her tonight. But it’s Christmas… it’s tradition.

Falling back against my fluffy comforter, I try not to think about this whole mess. I haven’t even hung out with Jackie enough to really know if I have romantic, ‘let’s go on a date’ feelings for her. But at this rate, I might not have that kind of time. The more Peyton pushes the faux relationship, the more Peyton pushes her sister away, the more I become a bad guy by proxy.

How would that make Peyton, feel, anyway? If I pursued her sister. Probably like s**t, and irrationally like someone else is picking Jacking over her. This isn’t the case because Peyton doesn’t have feelings for me and I don’t have feelings for her… other than brotherly-sisterly, best friend love.

And what about when Jackie goes home, huh? Goes back to her university across the state? Long-distance isn’t fair. … So, I guess it isn’t fair all around. I guess there’s no point. Guess I better head over to see Peyton for Christmas.

*

Slipping in through the back door, I’m not at all surprised to find the Pullman’s kitchen empty. Boots off, coat up, my fidgety hands sought after something to hold. A fresh glass of Coke with ice, I slowly meander to the edge of the living room.

My second family is smiling, joking, laughing… sharing stories, sharing gifts. These people I’ve come to love almost as much as my own flesh and blood, people I can’t imagine my life without. Leaning against the far wall, I appreciate all that this is and realize I shouldn’t do anything impulsive to jeopardize it.

It takes them a while to notice I’m here, Peyton finally saying, “Luke! Hi! Come look!” at her pile of goodies.

I sit between her and the tree, “Get anything good this year?”

“Oh yeah! Look at this! A Netflix gift card for about six months; a legit Ravenclaw scarf, from the Universal parks store; this gorgeous black, faux leather laptop bag for school; and how cool are these black and white Gomez and Morticia Addams Pop Funkos? Oh! And! Look at these headphones!” she unfolds a matte black pair of 90’s looking headphones, “They’re Bluetooth to my phone, so I can listen to Spotify whenever.”

I see one last thing she very specifically didn’t point on. I gesture to it and ask with a low voice, “And that.”

She gives me a look but then drops her shoulders. “It’s from Jackie. They’re the same infinity roses she got Mom.” She hand’s me the round, white box and I can tell she hates what she’s about to say, “How f*****g cool?”

I look down at the all-black roses. “Really f*****g cool and perfect for your desk.”

She leans towards me, her chin over my shoulder, “Don’t worry, I thanked her profusely. And,” she lets out a long breath, “I really am going to try and be nicer to her.”

What a Christmas miracle. I squeeze her knee, “Good.”

The conversation soon got away from us when Misses Pullman asked how my day went. I told them of all the new books I received, minus the U.K. Travel guide (to avoid any tension with Peyton). I also didn’t tell them about my parents paying for six months of my car insurance but did show them my new phone.

Standing now, glass empty, I explain the gifts from my extended family, some much-needed sweaters and flannels, plus a new pair of running shoes. “Oh, and my little cousin, Terry? He picked out a candle, of all things,” I chuckle. “He’s such a sweet kid.”

I duck out of the room and find Jackie in the kitchen, shaking her Starbucks glass. When I give her a curious look, she giggles, “I have Crystal Light.”

Looking down to my own glass that I was about to fill with more soda, I ask, “Have any more?”

She nods and pulls an individual packet out of the box. “It’s strawberry, that okay?”

“Perfect.”

I clean out my glass and make the Crystal Light. Stirring the mix slowly, I lean against the counter. “So, how was your Christmas haul?”

She slides her hand through the front of her hair and flips the part from one side to the other, the golden layers falling gracefully. “Good… good. Mom and Eric spent way too much and picked out an actual Polaroid camera, with film and a case. Peyton gave me a movie she said I should watch. Joey actually got me something, a candle that smells really nice….

“The gifts from my – I mean, from the rest of my family – my dad and step-mom and step-brother – are still unopened back at the hotel.”

I study her face, “Which you did on purpose.”

Her head bobs and she looks around quickly. “Yep… I just didn’t want Mom to feel bad or Peyton to insult me.” There’s a silence that’s neither here nor there. I think she expects me to defend Peyton. “So yeah,” she comments quickly, “I’ll get to go open those when I get back.”

“Want any company?”

She looks towards the living room, “I don’t think…” ‘that would be appropriate’ going unsaid. She looks back at me “I’m just really tired.”

“I could at least drive you,” I offer. “I bet getting an Uber would be impossible tonight.”

Her face saddens and she clears her throat. “Eric’s going to take me on his way to work.” She starts backing up, “Thank you, though.”

I nod as she heads into the living room. Looking at my coat by the door, I don’t know when, or if I should give her the gift that sits in the pocket.