I even took his advice on the wooing thing. Or, the best approximation of it that I can come up with. I found the perfect gift oneBay, a mint-condition bluePower Rangersfigurine. It looks like the one he had on his backpack the first day of kindergarten. I’m pretty sure he had one of these figures as well. A little cheesy? Maybe, but I’m hoping I can use it to come up with some words about how he’s always meant more than a friend to me.
That’s if I don’t lose my nerve before the end of our morning together. I have another gift for him—a dorky mug that says,Property of Mr. Matthewsand a box of hot chocolate mix. Generic and safe.
I bought that one weeks ago. It’s currently sitting under Aidan’s tree, in a candy cane-striped gift bag. The real gift is safely in my bag.Maybe I should’ve stuck it under the tree. At least then it would keep me from chickening out.
“So I was thinking, since we have the morning to ourselves, we could watch a movie and relax on the sofa for a bit, then open presents right before you have to take off.”
“Sounds good.” I stretch out my legs onto his ottoman, reminding myself to move every so often so I don’t get too stiff. I’ve already done away with the worst of it, going through my morning yoga routine.
“I pulled up a few options, but you can pick. I’ll watch anything.”
My wooing plans do not include choosing the movie. Instead, I flip on the TV and see what he has available.Elfis the first one on the screen, and I smile at the memory of seeing it in the theater together, both a little too young to catch a good portion of the jokes, but laughing our way through it anyway.
“Elfsounds good,” I call to him, hitting play at the same time and getting it ready to go.
When he comes in, Aidan’s carrying a tray full of goodies. There’s a massive pile of pastries, combined with a couple of breakfast sandwiches and other items. “Are we expecting more people?” I ask, eyeing the extravagant breakfast.
“No, I wanted to make sure we have enough.” His face turns bright red, and I decide not to give him a hard time about it.We can always save the rest of it and take it with us to my parents’ house for Christmas.
“It all looks fantastic. Come, sit.” I pat the spot right next to me, hoping he takes the hint. My plan involves a lot of casual touching, hoping to lighten things up and set the stage for what I want to say. Friends-with-benefits time has been short and sweet, but I’m still unsure where we stand outside those encounters. Unclear boundaries are never a good thing. Right?
Aidan sits down next to me, leaving enough space between us for another person. Maybe two, if they’re small. Not off to a great start.
Either way, it’s Christmas Eve and we’re together. That’s enough for the moment. “You sure you’re okay with this choice?”
“Of course. It’sElf.” I click play and get things going.
For a long while, neither of us moves, but by some sort of silent agreement, we eventually dig into the food. Just intime, too, because I need something to do with my hands. We should’ve started with presents; the waiting is killing me. Too much time for something to go wrong or for me to rethink my grand plan.
AIDAN
“Present time?”
“Of course.” Covey’s eyes light up when he looks at my Christmas tree. It’s not the kind of thing that would show up in a magazine, sparsely decorated with little ornaments hung in random places. If anything, it looks like the leftovers from a Christmas store. But it’s mine, a mess of hand-me-downs from my mom, gifts from students, and a few things I’ve picked up on my travels over the years. It’s eclectic—at best—but it’s mine.
Underneath are two presents, both in gift bags with an obscene amount of tissue paper coming out of the tops. Apparently, neither one of us is patient enough to deal with wrapping paper.
“Can I go first?” I ask. I’ve been excited about the gift I got Covey for a month. I bought it back when we first started hanging out, waiting for the perfect opportunity to give it to him. The moment never materialized, so I wrapped it for Christmas.
I want Covey to know how much I care about him; that this friendship is what’s most important to me. As we face the last week of our fake relationship, I want to ensure that what we have doesn’t disappear. Covey’s about to break my heart, but the only way I’m going to be able to put it back together is with my best friend.
And yes, I’m aware that having Covey as both the problem and the solution is complicated. And confusing.
“It’s not big. Just a small thing I thought you’d like.” As Ihand him the bag, I’m suddenly nervous about my choice. It’s not fancy or anything.It’s meant to remind him of both his past and future here in Burlington. With me.
“I’m sure I’ll love it.” He pulls the glittery tissue paper out and digs into the bottom of the bag. I can see the exact moment his hand finds the prize. He pulls it out and stares at it for a minute.
“A snow globe?” He shakes it and watches as the snow falls over a scene of downtown Burlington.
“I, um, thought you’d like it.” There’s a little sign inside it that says,Home Sweet Burlington. “I’m delighted that you somehow ended up back here, with us. I know you always wanted to leave, but we missed you.”
“We?” he asks.
“Well, yeah. Everyone missed you, in case that isn’t obvious. Your family. My family.”Me.I missed him more than anyone and even more than I knew. “Burlington has always been your home, and I’m so happy that you’re back and that we’re friends again.”
His face drops for a second before he plasters on a smile. It’s a slight movement, one I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t looking right at him, but it stops me in my tracks. It’s a stupid gift. Too small and touristy. The kind of generic thing that he’d get from a Secret Santa, not someone who’s known him for nearly two decades.
I wanted him to have a reminder that this is his home. That he belongs here, with me. I’m pretty sure I’ve somehow done the complete opposite.
