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“He won’t tell his parents that,” I said.

“I would,” Marcus said, “if I were him.”

“Maybe we should do something nice for the Morenos,” I tried. “In the spirit of Christmas.”

My moms paused and stared at me. Marcus looked up again from where he was tying some ribbon around the red box.

Harris laughed. “The spirit of Christmas sounds funny. Is it a ghost?”

“Tom Moreno has been a bully since high school,” Mom said. “He was Mr. Popular and used that popularity to pick on anyone he wanted to.”

“And now his son is Mr. Popular,” Marcus said. “Took over the title that was passed down. Living up to his dad’s legacy.”

“Exactly,” Mom said. “People don’t change, not even with Christmas magic.”

I sighed.

“Harris, don’t run off like that again,” Momma said. “It’s not safe.”

“Jasmine ran off. I couldn’t find her.”

“I had to go to the bathroom,” I lied, feeling immediately guilty because of what I was really doing—kissing Ryan Moreno. “Fiona was with you.”

“Go get ready for bed,” Momma said to Harris. He left, and I started to follow.

“Jasmine, wait,” Mom said.

I turned, my stomach tightening. Was I about to get in trouble for failing Harris tonight?

“We’re not mad,” Mom said, seeing my worried expression. “You handled everything well. Glad you had Mrs. O’Leary announce it. I’m sure that was embarrassing.”

Great. There went my guilt again. I’d almost wanted them to scold me.

“Are you okay?” Momma added, looking closely at me.

“I’m just tired,” I said as my excuse. “And I was upset about Harris. Is your car okay?” I asked Momma, changing the subject.

“Probably needs a new battery, but we were able to jump it.”

“That’s good. You missed most of your last movie night,” I said to Marcus, trying to unwedge the wedge between us.

He slid his wrapped gift under the tree. “I think I’ll survive.”

“Right.” I swallowed down some hurt. “Well, good night.” I headed for the stairs.

“Jasmine?”

I hadn’t realized Momma had followed me. I paused on the bottom step.

“Are you really okay?” she asked softly.

“Yes, I’m good.”

She nodded back toward the kitchen. “Your brother will be back next year and the year after. This isn’t our last Christmas together.”

“I know, but…” We were drifting apart this Christmas. And everything might be different next year. There might be fewer lights and less magic and everything would feel even more wrong. “I know.”

“Love you, kid. Thanks for all you do.”