CHAPTER ONE — CHRISTMAS EVE LIGHTS
1119 Words
December 24, 2023
Snow fell like powdered sugar over the quiet streets of Green Hill. Warm light spilled from the Thompson’s living room windows, painting soft golden squares on the driveway. The smell of cinnamon cookies and apple cider drifted through the air, mingling with laughter and the hum of Christmas carols.
Mrs. Parker kneaded dough with flour-dusted hands; Mrs. Thompson checked on the turkey roasting in the oven.
It was their annual tradition — the Parkers spent Christmas Eve at the Thompsons’ home, and the Thompsons spent New Year’s at the Parkers’. The two families were as inseparable as sisters, and their daughters were no different.
“Mom, we’re heading to Axton’s party!” Megan called out, sliding into her sparkly heels as Evelyn adjusted her coat.
“All right, sweetheart. Be good girls and don’t stay out too late,” Mrs. Thompson replied with a smile, brushing her palms on her apron.
“Yes, ma’am!” the girls chorused before bursting out the door into the glittering cold.
The Axton residence was impossible to miss — a sprawling house glowing with fairy lights, music pulsing from the wide, open windows. Cars lined the street, and the faint smell of bonfire smoke hung in the air. Inside, laughter blended with the beat of the latest pop hit.
When Megan stepped through the door, every head seemed to turn for a split second. Her strapless blue gown hugged her in all the right places, shimmering under the chandelier.
Axton Smith, tall and effortlessly confident, sauntered over, a familiar grin tugging at his lips.
“You look ravishing, Megan,” he said, eyes glinting.
“Thanks,” she replied, cheeks warming under his gaze. Her eyes darted around the room — a whirl of dancing couples, the scent of cologne and soda, and the glitter of tinsel everywhere.
“Oh, and I brought my best friend,” she added quickly, stepping aside to reveal Evelyn, who hovered nervously behind her.
Axton smiled and extended his hand. “I’m Axton.”
“Evelyn Parker,” she managed, shaking it lightly. His palm was warm, his grip firm.
“Nice to meet you. Come on, you two — the real fun’s inside.”
He led them toward the main lounge, where a crowd of teens danced under blue strobe lights. Evelyn’s eyes followed his every movement, wide and awestruck.
“He’s so handsome,” she whispered when Axton turned his back.
“I noticed,” Megan teased, bumping her shoulder playfully.
The lounge glowed with energy — kids laughing, clinking cups, a dozen conversations overlapping under the rhythm of the music.
“I’ll grab us something to drink,” Megan said. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I’ll be right here,” Evelyn promised, settling onto a plush couch near the corner, fingers nervously fidgeting with her necklace.
Megan wove through the crowd, reaching for two cups of sparkling cider from the table when a familiar voice, smooth but cutting, sliced through the noise.
“Well, if it isn’t Megan Thompson.”
Megan stiffened. Maria Jacobs.
Maria stood poised in a scarlet mini dress that left little to the imagination. Her makeup was flawless — smoky eyes, red lips, and confidence sharp enough to draw blood.
“Oh, it’s you,” Megan said dryly. “Guess they’re letting anyone in these days.”
Maria’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, sweetheart. Not everyone can pull off looking cheap.”
“Oh, don’t be jealous. I’d offer you my stylist’s number, but I think the problem’s beyond
fixing,” Megan shot back, voice dripping with sugar.
A few people nearby stifled laughs. Maria’s jaw tightened. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“Sometimes I even make myself laugh.”
That did it. Maria’s hands balled into fists. She shoved Megan — hard.
The push sent Megan stumbling straight into someone behind her. Time seemed to slow — cups flew, liquid splashed, and cold cider soaked into the black tux of the tall boy she collided with.
Megan gasped. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”
The boy looked down — at his drenched shirt, then at her — and smiled. “It’s okay. Happens to the best of us.”
She blinked. Jason Stone. The Jason Stone. Axton’s best friend. The most admired guy at Green Hill High — smart, athletic, impossible to read. Up close, he looked even more like trouble, with tousled blond hair and an easy calm that made everyone else seem too loud.
Maria’s smirk faltered. “Jason,” she breathed, straightening immediately.
Jason frowned. “Maria, what the hell was that?”
“She—she bumped into me first!” Maria stammered.
“I saw what happened.” He crossed his arms. “You pushed her.”
The music quieted. Dozens of eyes turned toward them.
Maria forced a smile. “Jason, baby, don’t embarrass me.”
“Baby?” Jason repeated, voice cold. “Maria, stop. I’ve had enough.”
Her lip trembled. “You can’t be serious.”
He sighed. “I am. I called off the engagement weeks ago.”
Gasps rippled through the room. Maria froze, the color draining from her face.
“You can’t do this to me!” she shouted, grabbing his arm.
He gently pulled free. “I already did.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Maria’s mascaraed eyes glistened. Then, without a word, she turned and bolted through the front door, the echo of her heels lost beneath the returning music.
For a moment, Megan just stood there, mouth slightly open, the sting of cider sticky on her wrist.
Jason looked at her and cracked a grin. “You okay?”
She exhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath. “That was… something.”
“You’ve got timing,” he said. “I’ve wanted to say that to her for a while.”
Megan chuckled softly. “Glad I could help — unintentionally.”
Jason tilted his head, eyes warm. “C’mon. Let’s get you out of the spotlight before someone hands you a medal.”
He led her through a side hallway, away from the music and whispers. The corridor was lined with framed photos and smelled faintly of baking bread.
“Sorry again about your suit,” Megan said, still flustered. “I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.”
Jason smiled. “You’re fine. Besides, cider’s festive. You just helped me match the decorations.”
She laughed, a sound that came too easily. “I’ve officially ruined your Christmas.”
He leaned against the wall, studying her face. “You’ve actually made it more interesting.”
The words hung between them, sweet and dangerous.
- Writer
