This year, it’s just me, my parents, three of my brothers and Kennedy. Alex is still in London managing the overseas sectors of Voss. He rarely comes home for the holidays, but we always video-call him to see how he’s doing and how miserable the weather is across the pond.
Kennedy has been attending my family’s Thanksgiving dinners since she first joined NU, and her mom and sister moved back to South Carolina. Wren and I have always tried to make the holidays extra special for Kennedy. Maybe I’m biased because she’s my best friend, but she doesn’t deserve to be pushed away from her family for deciding to stay here. No one should have to feel lonely at this time of year, and Wren and I have been trying to show up for Kennedy as best we can.
After eating as much turkey and stuffing as humanly possible, we all pile into the huge living room, a Christmas movie already playing on the flatscreen. My mom is the kind of person that decorates for Christmas way before it’s socially accepted to do so, and I love that about her. All of the décor is usually hand-me-downs from her own Christmases growing up, handmade gifts that my brothers and I made together when we were kids, and a freshly cut tree she and my dad pick out every year.
The tree sparkles in warm greens and oranges in one corner, tinsel and stockings hang above the fireplace, and Christmas-themed ornaments scatter across the coffee tables and mantelpiece—a Hallmark-movie-worthy spread that makes my chest glow.
By the window, Arthur is playing a very heated game of chess with my dad, and my mom is texting every single family member and wishing them a happy Thanksgiving, cackling every few seconds when one of our cousins sends a GIF in the family group chat.
Leo, Junior, Kennedy, and I are half-enjoying the film, an abandoned game of UNO on the coffee table, when Leo throws a cranberry at me and asks, “How’s the hunt going?”
I turn, glaring up toward where he sits on the couch above Kennedy and I on the floor. “The hunt?” I echo. He grins proudly. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Or would you prefer ‘the mission’?” Junior asks, a spooky edge to his voice.
“I’d prefer to just call it what it is: ‘stupid,’ ” I argue, folding my arms against my chest.
“If it’s so stupid, then why are you still doing it?” Leo asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Because I want to prove to you guys that I can do it,” I say, hoping that saying it out loud will help it come true. “And Iwilldo it,” I add in a more assured tone, pointing at each one of my siblings. They just laugh, shaking their head like they’re still surprised I’m taking this so seriously.
“Your speech was perfect,tesoro,” my dad says, eyes still on the chessboard. “No notes.”
I smile. “Thank you,Papà.”
“I agree,” Mom adds. “It was very eloquent.” My chest swells with pride as I look over to her. Her eyes are still set on her phone, but I can see the way sincerity seeps into her expression. “And you did it all by yourself?”
I swallow. “Yep. Just like you told me.”
Kennedy nudges her elbow into my side. “Have you given the cannoli recipe another try?”
“Not yet. I’m working on it.”
She smiles brightly. “Good.”
Guilt swirls in my stomach. I haven’t told the girls that Evan has offered to help me with some of the things on the list. Mostly because I know they’ll call me a hypocrite for refusing their help and, I don’t know . . . maybe because I’m not even supposed tolikethe guy.
I don’t know what has gotten into me. Why it suddenly feels so easy to talk to him and be around him. I’ve spent most of my life avoiding spending unnecessary time with him, but recently I’ve started craving that. I want his attention. I want him to talk to me and ask me stupid questions. I want him to bring me to his top-secret library and share his deepest, darkest confessions with me. I want him to show me how to play pool and feel his breath against my neck.
I shiver at the thought of it.
I shouldn’t evenbethinking about him.
“I still can’t believe that you guys do these kinds of things,” Kennedy says, snapping me out of my trance. “This whole thing feels like an episode of a TV drama.”
“You could say that,” I mutter.
“You’re telling me your mom didn’t make you complete a list of absurd things before you got your first job?” Mom laughs, setting her phone down and looking over at Kennedy.
She snorts. “My first job was at a country club, so not really.” Her shoulders drop with a heavy sigh. “Even though working there was hell sometimes, I miss it.”
I lean my head against her shoulder in response, to comfort her. Even though I’ve only known Kennedy since she was fourteen, it feels like we’ve been friends way longer. When she came into Wren’s and my English class on the first day of high school, we immediately knew we had to be her friend. She was all long, curly hair, a slight southern accent, and she just knew somuch. We thought she was the smartest, coolest person we had ever met, and she still is. She jokes about being a bad influence on us, but I think we all needed each other in that way. We needed to be together so all of the different parts of our personalities could shine. We needed to go through every awkward stage of our lives together and be there for each other in all the moments in between.
“How are your family doing, Kennedy?” my mom asks.
I hear Kennedy swallow beside me. “They’re good. You know, at the other end of the country and all that.”
“Do you guys still keep in touch?”
