Chapter 8

Charlie

It’s the first week of December, and it got pretty cold over the last few days. Today is Friday and the first day of snow. It’s amazing to look at the thick flocks of ice falling from the sky.

I am mesmerised.

I am currently sitting in English class, staring out of the window like a four-year-old. I know I should probably pay more attention to the text we have been working on for the past week, but I can’t tear my eyes away.

Winter has always been my favourite season. I love snow and the cold. I love to sit at home, cuddle up in a warm blanket and read a book during the cold winter months.

If anyone were to ask me, I would do that every day for the rest of my life. Just sit in the safety of my home, with a good book, and never go outside again. But I guess life is about more than just spending it in your four walls, in your own head.

But the idea of going outside, especially on my own, is still a sensitive topic for me. I guess I am just still a bit shaken by what happened a few weeks ago. The worst part being that I still haven’t talked to anyone about it. Jasmine has asked about it once, but I was quick to change the topic.

Ever since it happened, I always take the bus if available, even though it’s just two stops. I try to avoid going outside when it’s dark and stay inside as much as I can. It’s stupid, I know, but I just don’t feel safe otherwise. I even started to keep on the light in my bedroom at night because I can’t stop imagining him standing in the corner of my bedroom waiting for me to fall asleep and do… I don’t know what.

The wound on my head had healed pretty well; it isn’t too visible but is still there. It’s another part of myself, another event the universe won’t let me forget. It’s another scar that will be there forever to remind me of what happened to me.

I force my thoughts away from the topic and look back down to my notebook, still completely empty. Since the beginning of the class, I glance up every now and then to check if my professor has noticed me yet, noticed my mental absence from her class.

In the past few weeks she left me pretty much alone. After our last conversation, she seems to make sure to keep her distance, which I don’t really mind. She has me confused enough, and keeping my distance was surely for the best.

I let my gaze travel once more over the snow-covered landscape. The roof of the science centre is already covered in a thick layer of snow, and I watch as a big amount of snow falls down onto the sidewalk.

When I look up to the front again, to check on Professor Anderson, I find her already looking at me.

Her blue eyes seem to pierce right through me.

My mouth falls slightly open in fear she might lecture me about having to pay attention.

But she doesn’t.

She just keeps staring at me.

“Sorry,” I mouth and look back down onto my desk, taking out my pen to highlight some parts of the text that stand out to me.

When class is over, I quickly pack my stuff and walk over to Hannah and Ellie, Oliver following up behind me.

“Hey”, I greet them. “The Christmas market opens today. Wanna go?”

“Sounds good,” Hannah says. “I’m in.”

“Me too,” Ellie beams. “What about you, Ollie?”

“Yes,” he says from behind. “Charlie already asked me during class. I already texted Jasmine.”

“Jasmine?” Hannah asks.

“My twin sister,” Oliver says with much pride. “She is a medical student. She got all the brains.”

“Cool,” I say with excitement. “Let’s discuss the rest in the group chat; I gotta go now.”

“Okay, sweetie.” Ellie says, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “See you later.”

I wave them goodbye and quickly walk out of the classroom. When I get outside, the snow has finally stopped falling. Still, I loop my scarf closer around my neck to keep the cold from creeping in. I bury my hands in my pockets and stalk through the snow.

The sidewalks are all covered in ice. Nobody was brave enough yet to come outside and clean them up. So the whole way home I try not to slip and break my neck.

Since it’s the last day of university, I really need to plan out the next few weeks until the new year because I have a lot to do.

Multiple projects, essays and other stuff. I am not sure how I am supposed to do all this in just three weeks, but whatever.

As soon as I enter my flat I make some tea and collect my laptop and paperwork and place it all down onto my desk.

Before I sit down I check my phone again. There are some messages in the group chat about tonight.

The Fantastic Four

Ellie
When do you guys wanna meet?

Ollie
can’t before five

Me
me neither
can I add Hannah to the group?

Ollie
Of course you can add her

Ellie
yes, go ahead

Charlie added Hannah

Hannah
hiii

Ellie
hey hannah

Me
how does 5:30 sound to you guys?

Ollie
sounds good to me
your place?

Jasmine
I’ll meet you at the market guys

Me
sure
Hannah? Ellie?

Ellie
I will be there!!!!

Hannah
me too

For the next few hours, I worked, concentrating on my schedule, trying to ignore my excitement for tonight.

I love spending time with my friends. Especially now that we included Hannah in the group, it got even better. She is a ray of sunshine, and I love having her around.

When all the others are jumping around, being their extroverted selves, she is the one who will sit with me by the sidelines and watch.

I think Jasmine will love her too. They are both pretty alike, and I think they make good friends. Jasmine is the kindest person I have ever met. She is not really an extrovert, but she doesn’t hesitate to help people out whenever they need it.

I admire her for that extremely.
Most of the time I am too shy to say something or to be the one to step up first. I always want to be the person that speaks out, but I barely ever do.

The night Stella had to save me from that guy was the first time I actually noticed how low my self-confidence was. I was barely able to speak or confident enough to just walk away.

I was completely frozen in place.

I felt helpless, and it had been a long time since I’d felt that way.

Jasmine would have known what to do, what to say. Ellie would have probably screamed at that guy for so much as glancing in our direction.

But not me.

I was so scared I could barely breathe. I am always scared. And I hate it. I hate being so weak. I hate being unable to speak my mind when everything inside me screams to do it.

I guess that’s another thing my father ruined for me. Telling him what I thought was never a good idea, as he made abundantly clear to me on more than one occasion.

My opinion didn’t count. With him, my voice held no power at all—so why would it with anybody else?

It only seems to be different when I am with Stella. Somehow I always seem to find a piece of confidence to speak my mind. With her I never feared to do so.

Maybe it’s because she is a woman, but deep down I know it’s not just that. I could have never spoken to my mother the way I spoke to Stella. She wouldn’t have let me get away with it the way Stella does.

I suppose it’s simply because of the fact that I am not afraid of Stella. I don’t have to fear that she will punish me for whatever I have to say, at least not in a physical way. She calls me out, likes to demonstrate that it doesn’t really faze her, not on a professional level at least, but she doesn’t directly hurt me.

It takes another three hours for me to get done with most of the things on my to-do list. I notice how my thoughts seem to drift away more frequently. I try to stretch and get back into working mode, but I just can’t seem to concentrate anymore, so I give in and let my thoughts wander.

I think about tonight’s plans and Sam, because of whom I keep checking my area every other minute whenever I walk alone, and then about my friends and how I basically lied to Ellie, or at least conveyed the truth to my liking, and still haven’t found the courage to talk about what actually happened that night.

My fingers trace over the cut, which is now just a thin line above my eyebrow. I am glad that it healed so well and so quickly as well. Even though the accident itself is still the main memory connected to the wound, there is still another moment that keeps coming up whenever I think about it.

My mind always travels back to the moment it was still fresh and started bleeding after class. The worry in my professor’s eyes at the sight of it.

How she had helped me so gently. How she held me up when I felt my head go dizzy. The way her finger traced my skin. Never too much, never too hard, but always just enough to leave a mark. The way she stood over me, trying not to hurt me as she removed the old bandages.

Her scent, her presence.
All of that has burned itself in my mind, and I don’t even know why.

Maybe because kindness is such a rare gift from her. Or maybe because she is just that impressionable. Either way it’s all up there in my head. Every encounter that we had is saved in my memories, playing over and over again, trying to make sense of it all.

For example, earlier today, I kept looking out of the window to watch the snowflakes. I can still see her face, her expression clearly before my eyes. I am not sure how long she has been watching me, but I’m pretty sure she did.

The way her eyes glimmered when she looked at me. Not with hate, but somehow, with adoration. She looked at me as if she discovered something about me that even I am unaware of.

The problem is I don’t know what to make of it. A few weeks ago she probably would have lectured me to pay attention, to stop looking out of the window, but at that moment she chose not to, and I don’t understand why.

She keeps confusing me with everything she says and does.

But I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway.

I always have to remind myself that it is not my job to figure her out. That she is not a puzzle my mind needs to solve. It’s just not worth the time I spend thinking about her without ever coming to a conclusion.

At least that’s what my head, my rational self, is telling me. I can’t interpret quite right what the rest of me is trying to tell me.

As I take a look at my phone, I notice the time. It’s five already, so I really need to make myself ready.

I jump off the chair and walk into the bathroom. My makeup from today still looks good, so I just adjusted it a little and refreshed the mascara.

Then I walk into my bedroom and open my closet.

It’s pretty cold outside, so I considered putting on my thermal underwear. I had to buy it for a skiing trip with my aunt and her husband, which turned out to be a total disaster.

Turns out I am the worst skier the world has ever seen. Even my three-year-old niece Lauren was faster down that hill than I was, and that with a lot more confidence too.

The good thing is that they keep you warm, so I decide to go at least with the pants and throw it onto my bed.

Now I check for something nice to wear over it. I decided to go with some dark blue baggy jeans, a black knitted sweater, and my brown leather jacket. I hate hats, so I pull out a big red scarf and decide to wrap it carefully around my neck and put on my Doc Martens.

As I finally stand in front of the mirror and look at myself, I feel relief wash over me when the outfit looks pretty much the same as I imagined it in my head.

I take out the hair tie from my hair and let my long brown hair fall over my shoulders.

It’s pretty.

I look pretty.

Just as I am about to open the door, I hear the bell ring through the apartment.
I instantly go stiff.

My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment I forget that I and my friends agreed to meet at my place.

I feel the fear creep up my neck, as I check the camera fully expecting Sam standing in front of my door. A sigh escapes my lips as I see Ollie’s green wool hat on the screen.

“I’ll be right downstairs,” I say over the intercom, to which Ollie throws me a thumbs up through the camera, a big smile spreading over his lips.

It’s a fifteen-minute walk from my apartment to the Christmas market. We could take the bus, but since it’s the first day of the market opening, they are all packed with people, so we decide to walk.

Ellie and I walk side by side behind Hannah and Ollie, who are pretty engaged in a conversation about which Star Wars film is the best. I personally disagree with both of them. Ollie’s favorite is obviously the third; Hannah says it’s the second, but I’d say the best of them all is the sixth.

The sixth movie just raps it all up beautifully. It’s about friendship, love, and the hope that in the end the good always wins. That even in the darkest moments of time there is still something stronger than hate and destruction.

I always liked it best, and not just because Luke Skywalker is totally my type.

Ellie just rolls her eyes at their conversation. She grew up with three brothers and has more than enough of such conversations at home.

“When and where exactly do we meet Jasmine?” Ellie interrupts their discussion.

“She said she would meet us there at around six,” Ollie says over his shoulder. “She said she isn’t sure when exactly she’s going to make it.”

“What is she doing anyway?” I ask.

“I don’t know; she wouldn’t tell me.” Ollie shrugs.

I can see the disappointment in his face. They basically tell each other everything; sure, Jasmine probably has her reasons not to tell him, but he still seems worried.

My eyes wander from Ollie’s back to what is in front of us. There are about two hundred small stalls, all lit with string lights and decorated with pine branches. The snow from this morning still lies on the small colorful roofs, from whose chimneys little wisps of smoke are rising.

It looks like a dream. Like a fairytale winter wonderland, and I love all of it.
My heart, which had been completely constricted with fear all the way here, grew lighter, and a warmth is spreading through my entire body.

I didn’t even notice that I came to a halt to look at it all until Ellie grabbed me by the arm. I jump a little at the touch but instantly relax when I see her looking at me.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Let’s get some hot punch; the first round is on me.”

Our first stop is actually not the drink stand but a food spot in one of the first rows of the market. They sell German savory bites like bratwurst and stuff.

I don’t really eat meat and am not hungry anyway, so I just keep waiting for the others by the side. I might regret it later not eating something before drinking, but that’s something I will let my future self deal with.

I let my gaze wander through the crowd, obviously not looking out for a specific someone but still sighing in relief when I don’t spot him right away. Sam isn’t much into… anything actually. Besides going to parties and drinking himself into a coma. That’s his thing, and now that I am thinking about it, I don’t really understand why I ever thought that was something to like about him.

But I do spot someone else in the crowd that I know instead. It’s the red-haired woman, Kathrine Montgomery.

She walks straight past me, but I lose her in the crowd as quickly as I found her. I can only hope Stella is not here as well, and if she is, I hope I don’t meet her, at least not yet.

“Are you looking for someone?” I suddenly hear Ollie’s voice behind me. He leans down to me, his head almost touching mine.

“No,” I say, smiling as I see how he is trying to get to my level, checking the area.

“So, no Professor Anderson in sight?”
My cheeks turn bright red. Why would he think I am looking out for her?

I spin my head in his direction to give him a questioning look. “Why would I be looking for her?”

“I don’t know,” he says with a slight grin. “You tell me, little Charles.”

“I would not,” I say firmly, not sure whether I’m trying to convince him, or perhaps even a little myself.

“Whatever you say,” he banters.

I try not to roll my eyes but just turn back around, fixing my eyes back on the crowd. There are so many people pushing past each other that it’s hard to set them apart from one another.

There is a small family of three standing near the big Christmas tree in the center of the market. Young parents of a maybe four-year-old daughter. She holds a big cotton candy in one hand and shoves the cloud of sugar into her mouth with the other.

Her father is kneeling beside her, making sure she doesn’t drop it into the snow, her mother taking pictures of the scenery.

They look very happy, which makes me smile.

The little girl meets my eyes and waves at me with her whole hand covered in cotton candy, which has me smiling even more.

But my joy is quickly replaced by another feeling, poisoning my mood. There is a sting in my chest, reminding me that I never had that and probably never will.

My parents never really cared about Christmas. We never visited family or friends during the holidays. I only remember that my parents, who believed in the holy spirits only when they needed it, went to church every year. It was the only Christmas-like experience I ever really had.

Sometimes I got a gift; sometimes I didn’t.

I was the happiest girl in the world when my father bought me a football for Christmas once. I spent the rest of the winter waiting for spring so I could finally play with it in the garden. I never got the chance to actually do that.

The only times I saw Santa as a child was in school. My parents never took me to a shopping centre to have my photo taken sitting on Santa’s lap, which they could then stick on the fridge, as other parents did with their children.

In a world full of love and Christmas lights, my parents were like the Grinch before Cindy Lou had a chance to warm his heart.

I guess that’s why I try to make the most out of the holidays now. Because I actually always loved Christmas, I just never got to celebrate it as a child.

“So,” Ellie says behind me, interrupting my spiral of thoughts. “Let’s go get something to drink, shall we?”

We all agree and fight our ways through the crowds. It takes us a moment, but eventually we reach the right stall, and we order our drinks. As promised, I pay for them before we head to one of the empty round standing tables.

Ollie takes out his phone and texts his sister that we are going to wait here for her, and it doesn’t even take ten minutes before she comes walking around the corner.

“Hey,” she greets us with a big smile. Ollie wraps his arms around her, and I can see him whispering something into her ear. She just shakes her head in response before turning her attention to us.

She comes up to me and gives me a small kiss on the cheek to greet me. Then she moves on and hugs Ellie and even Hannah.

“What did I miss?” Jasmine asks curiously, her voice unusually high as if she is nervous, as if she is trying to hide something.

“Not much,” I say. “Just a heated discussion between Hannah and your brother about which Star Wars movie is the best.”

“The third,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“That’s my sister,” Ollie burst out.
We all laugh as Ollie lays his arm around his twin and places a kiss on her hair.

After that, conversation flows easily. Two more rounds of hot punch and I can already feel how I lose control of my senses. My laughter comes easier, my mouth loosens, and the tension in my jaw eases out.

After what happened a few weeks ago, I gladly take the release.

We stand at the table for a while longer before Jasmine and I decide to quickly look for a toilet.

The others stay behind, not wanting to give up the table just yet.

Jasmine takes my hand as we walk through the crowd not to lose each other. My legs feel numb, and I can already feel the alcohol blurring my mind. As Jasmine drags us through the ground, I am glad I don’t trip and fall or push someone by accident.

The other people around me don’t seem to mind doing that at all. After the third person pushed their elbows into my ribs, I stopped counting and was glad when we finally reached the toilet stalls.

We both sigh in unison when we see the long row in front of the building.

“This might take a while,” Jasmine huffs, looking at me. I just nod, leaning against the fence, separating the men’s room from women’s restrooms to steady myself.

“Did you have to work late?”

“No,” Jasmine looks at me in confusion, still holding onto my hand. “Why?”

“Oh, I just thought that since you got here so late, you might have to work late.”

“No,” Jasmine says, hesitating. “It’s just…”

“You don’t have to tell me where you’ve been,” I clarify before pointing at her neck. “You should just hide that hickey before your brother sees it.”

Jasmine grows bright red, her eyes wide as she pulls up her scarf up to her chin.

“Oh my god,” she almost cries, squeezing my hand. “Please, Charlie, you have to promise me you won’t tell Oliver.”

“Why can’t he know that you are dating someone?”

“Because,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut. “We are technically not dating. It’s just… complicated. I just can’t tell him, okay?”

“Okay,” I assure her. “I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you,” she mouths.

It takes us another ten minutes before we finally reach the doors to the toilets. We both go in at the same time, but I am back out first. I take a look around just to make sure I didn’t just miss Jasmine, but instead my eyes find someone else in the crowd. Someone who is surprisingly already staring at me.

It’s no one else but Stella freaking Anderson.

I really cannot escape her.

She seems to think the exact same thing as she rolls her eyes at me. But I don’t miss the small smile tucking at the corner of her lips, which she is trying to hide by turning away.

I still decide to walk, or rather stumble, over to her anyway.

If I can’t escape her, neither can she escape me.

“Good evening, Professor.” I greet her as I reach her, my legs still kinda numb from both the cold and the alcohol.

She turns back around towards me, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Good evening, Ms. Campbell.”

“So firmly tonight,” I say more teasingly than I intended to.

“What else am I supposed to call you?”

“You already called me by my first name before,” I point out.

She raises her eyebrows at me, her eyes wandering over my appearance. I don’t know why, but seeing her checking me out with whatever intentions makes my cheek feel suddenly hot. I still decide to blame that on the alcohol as well rather than on the effect she has on me.

I can’t stop myself from letting my gaze wander over her too. She is wearing a big coat and high boots. Her hair is, as always, perfectly styled in a blowout, framing her face in just the right way. The blue in her eyes was colder than the night air. Her cheeks were red from the cold.

Besides that, there is not much to see but the bag hanging over her arm and the ring on her finger. I suppose it’s the same one that was pressing into my palm the night we met when she took my hand in hers, shaking it so firmly but still with so much tenderness.

“What do you want?”

“Are you married?” I blurt it out without thinking about it further. I didn’t even mean to say that out loud.

Obviously, it is none of my business whether she is or not, and I don’t really care either. I don’t know why I should.

The woman in front of me still follows my eyes to her hand. She lifts it slightly, taking a look at the ring.

“No,” she says, dryly. I am surprised she answered the question at all and am just glad she didn’t lecture me about how inappropriate that question was.

“How is your head?” She then asks, her voice suddenly much softer.

My eyes meet hers, and I’m not sure what I expected to find in them, but it certainly wasn’t genuine curiosity or even concern.

“Fine,” I say, holding my hand up to hide the scar underneath it. “It’s just the scar—it looks a little stupid,” I try to laugh it off, hiding the fact that it actually bothers me a lot.

“It doesn’t,” she says, her voice suddenly sounding much deeper. I watch as she raises her hand and takes my wrist to move my hand away from my forehead. “You still look… beautiful.”

“Was that a compliment, Professor? ” I joke, trying to hide the fact that I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks again.

“The only one you’ll ever get, so keep it close to your heart.”

“I will,” I whisper, biting my lip and cursing myself for letting another thought slip out.

She looks at me with a confused expression. It’s subtle, but I can see it in the way her eyebrows move up and her lips slightly purse.

She didn’t expect me to say what I said. To be fair, I didn’t expect it either, but I am quick to realize that I mean it. She called me beautiful. It’s the first actual nice thing she said to me in weeks, and even though I hate how it makes me feel, I will keep her compliment in mind, and I won’t make her forget so quickly.

“How’s the boyfriend?”

That question catches me off guard, and I slightly flinch. I didn’t expect her to ask about Sam. Why would she?

“Oh,” I begin, trying to get the words out. We broke up. It’s over. He might have caused my head injury. “We—”

Before I can say anything else, I hear Jasmine calling out my name. I turn my head in her direction, watching her as she walks over to us.

“Hey,” she greets my professor, grabbing onto my arm for balance.

“Professor,” I say and point at Jasmine. “This is Jasmine, a very good friend of mine.”

“Are you Oliver Green’s sister?” Stella asks, and I am surprised she noticed it right away.

I mean, they do look pretty similar, but their similarities don’t lie in the obvious features of their faces but in the subtle curve of their chins and the shape of their eyes. I wouldn’t have expected her to ever pay that much attention to notice it.

“Twin,” she says, smiling.

“You look younger than him,” Stella remarks.

“Well, actually, I am older than him. 20 minutes to be exact. But don’t mention it to him—it’s a sensitive topic.”

Stella smiles, almost laughing at Jasmine’s words. I am not sure why, but my heart stings a little in my chest at how easily their conversation flows.

I’m not jealous. I mean, why would I be? It’s just weird how she really seems to only have a problem with me.

As we stand there and Jasmine and Stella are engaged in their conversation, another person enters our group.

Katherine Montgomery.

Jasmine doesn’t even notice her at first, but when she looks up, she seems confused by her presence. She stops mid-sentence and stares at Dr. Montgomery for a moment. The time seems to slow down for a second. There is no one else, just them, looking at each other. Then she turns towards me.

“Oh, we totally forgot the time,” she says, grabbing my arm even harder. “We need to get back, don’t we, Charlie?”

“Yeah.” I confirm when I see her pleading look. I don’t quite understand what’s going on, but I just try to go along.

“Yeah,” she says. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Professor, and have a nice evening, you two.”

She doesn’t even really acknowledge Dr. Montgomery’s presence. She just shortly glances in her direction before she starts walking, pulling me after her.

I don’t even have the time to process any of it. As we walk away, I turn my hand and shrug, waving at Stella and her friend. They both wave back with confusion written all over their faces.

„Jas,” I call out for her as she drags us through the crowd. „ What’s going on? Would you slow down, please?”

I pull at her arm, getting her to stop. She looks at me with a mixture of fear and embarrassment. Her cheeks are burning red, but that may just be the cold; I am not sure.

„What’s going on? What happened back there?”

„Nothing,” she says, slightly out of breath. „It was nothing.”

„That was not nothing,” I say, raising my eyebrows.

Her eyes keep wandering; she seems nervous, and I don’t quite understand why. Was it because of Montgomery?

I can feel her hand getting slightly sweaty in mine, but I don’t let go. Instead, I squeeze it slightly in support.

“Hey,” I say, pulling her out of her thoughts. “You don’t have to tell me what happened back there. I just want to make sure you are okay.”

“It’s her,” she almost whispers, biting her lips as the words leave her mouth.

“Who?”

“Kathrine,” she says, her eyes finally finding mine again. “I mean Dr. Montgomery.”

“What about her?”

“She,” Jasmine begins, seemingly struggling with her words. “I don’t know, she just makes me nervous. I feel like I am on fire around her.”

I tilt my head, unsure of what she is trying to tell me. I watch her as she shakes her head, almost laughing. “God, I feel so stupid.”

“Why?” I step closer to her, assuring her that I am listening, that I am here for her.

“Just, forget it, Charlie,” she says, pulling up her scarf over her hickey. “It was nothing; I just felt uncomfortable talking to my boss outside of work, that’s all.”

I just nod at her words, not wanting to force her into telling me something she isn’t ready for.

I feel like I am on fire around her; I recall her words in my head, and a faint suspicion is beginning to take shape in my mind as to why she really didn’t want to talk to the pretty redhead.

We stayed at the Christmas market for another few hours before we all couldn’t feel our legs anymore. Hannah had to leave at around eleven, but the rest of us decided to go to my place because we all didn’t want to let the night end.

All the way to my apartment we kept laughing and singing Christmas songs. Not a single one of us came even close to hitting the right note when we tried singing Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas.”

Now we are sitting in my apartment around the small table in my living room. We are all pretty drunk, so I make us some sandwiches and some tea and hand everyone a small bottle of water to prevent a headache.

„Oh, Charlie, you are the best,” Oliver sings, as I place down the plate with snacks.

„Don’t eat too much or you’ll throw up all over my carpet,” I laugh as I sit down on the couch beside Ellie.

“What did you all plan for Christmas?” Jasmine suddenly asks. „Are you and your family flying to Ireland again for Christmas, Ellie?”

„No,” she sighs. „Mom said we should stay here for Christmas this year.”

„I see,” Jasmine hums. „What about you, Charlie?”

I look up from my cup of tea, defrosting my cold fingers. The past few years I spent Christmas with my aunt Katie and her husband Daniel in Dublin. But I can’t visit them this year because they will spend their holiday in the states. Obviously I was a little sad about that, but they told me I could come visit them as soon as they are back and stay until New Year.

„Nothing,” I answer truthfully. „My aunt and her family are in the states over the holidays so…”

„Wait,” Ellie turns towards me. „Why didn’t you say anything?”

„I don’t know,” I shrug. „It’s not a problem. I spend a lot of holidays alone. One more won’t kill me.”

„Not a chance,” Ellie says. “You will stay with us. My best friend won’t spend Christmas alone.”

Oliver and Jasmine look from me to Ellie and back, waiting for me to talk back, but I don’t. I know that look on Ellie’s face, and I am not stupid enough to discuss something she already decided is going to happen. Besides, I would love to spend Christmas with her even though I hate the possibility of me causing any trouble.

“I would love that, Ellie. “I smile at her. „But please let me know if it causes any issues. I don’t mind staying at home for Christmas.”

„Won’t happen.”

We keep talking for a while about different things.

I can feel the alcohol slowly losing its effect on me. My thoughts come together again, and I can actually grasp some of them without having the feeling they are seeping through my hands like sand.

I like having control over myself. That’s why I barely ever drink. I don’t like the feeling of disorientation and loss of control.

I know that’s exactly why most people do it, but I never chased that feeling like others, like my friends.

I like knowing what I am doing and saying, knowing that I can’t accidentally say things I would have never said sober.

“What took you so long earlier anyway?” Oliver’s voice suddenly pulls me out of my thoughts.

I look over at Jasmine, who is already looking at me.

„We met Professor Anderson,” I say, rolling my eyes. It feels weird to do it because I realize I am not even actually annoyed by the fact that she was there.

„Anderson was there? “Ellie asks.
„Yeah,” I just say.

“What did you guys talk about?” Oliver asks.

My thoughts wander back to our conversation. You still look beautiful. I can feel the heat creeping up into my cheeks at the thought of her words.

„Nothing important,” I just say, stretching out my legs because they start hurting from sitting cross-legged for too long.

„Do you guys not like her? “Jasmine asks, catching the weird vibe hanging around the topic.

„She is a total pain in the ass,” Oliver explains, leaning his head against the headrest from my armchair. „Especially towards Charlie.”

“Really? “Jasmine scrunches her eyebrows together. „Didn’t seem like it when you were talking to her earlier.”

All eyes land on me, and I just shrug, unsure of what to say.

„I liked her,” Jasmine adds.

„You like everyone, Jas.” Oliver glances at his sister.

„That’s not even true,” she shoots back. „I just think she is pretty nice.”

„Nice is the last thing I would describe her with,” Oliver mumbles, biting into another sandwich.

„Maybe it wasn’t even her, and she has a nice doppelganger. ” Ellie laughs.

„Oh come on, guys,” I say. „Don’t be so mean.”

“You are the one who called her the mistress of the devil,” Ellie says, turning in my direction.

Oliver and Jasmine raise their eyebrows in sync. I almost laugh at that, but I feel kind of intimidated by everyone’s questioning looks at me.

I trace the rim of my cup with my finger and try to think of another thing to say.

I did indeed call her that, and it’s true she can be super mean and bossy, but then there are times when she is…not. I feel like I could never really explain to them how it feels to be looked at by her without the anger in her eyes, burning you alive.

I fear they wouldn’t believe me if I told them how gentle and kind she can be. I can’t even believe it myself. That version of her is so different from the version she usually shows the world.

Ellie is still looking at me, waiting for me to explain my sudden change of mind. But I can’t explain it. I don’t know when or how it happened. I just know whatever I said about her just doesn’t feel as true anymore as it did a few weeks ago. Maybe I just stopped caring whether she showed me the cold shoulder or not, or maybe it was something different entirely.

“I don’t know,” I begin. “I just think we don’t really know her, that’s all.”

I stand up and walk over into my kitchen, emptying my tea into the sink to buy myself a moment to think. I take in a deep breath, trying to calm down, to lower the heat I suddenly feel all over my body.

I didn’t sober up as much as I thought I did. My head still spins and my legs suddenly feel like they will give out on me any moment.

I am still pretty drunk, and I hate every second of it.

Not just because I hate being drunk in general, but because ever since I saw her today at the market, I can’t get her out of my head. She is there, even more than usual, haunting me like a ghost. As if her eyes are still following me every step I take.

“I mean come on, Charlie, tell me one nice thing about her.” I can hear Oliver say, daring me.

“She has pretty eyes,” I let the thought slip out and immediately regret opening my mouth. My hand clasps over it, and I don’t dare to turn around, already feeling their eyes burning into my back.

“What did you just say?” Ellie asks, and I can hear her standing up from the couch.

Why the hell can’t I stop thinking about her?

I think I am going insane.

That must be it; I am going insane, and she is the reason for it.

I feel my head getting dizzy. My stomach clenches, and I suddenly feel terribly sick. I hold stronger onto my kitchen counter, but the spinning won’t stop.

“I don’t know,” I say through gritted teeth before I run for the bathroom and heave into the toilet.