Brooklyn poked Simon in the ribs. “Stop fidgeting,” she hissed.
“Jesus, this is worse than my college interviews,” Simon complained, pulling at his sleeve. She slapped his hand.
“Stop it. People are staring.”
“I thought you said Averil would be here?” Simon said.
“She is. She’s with Ty, over there, with Romeo and all,” Brooklyn told him, pointing.
“Fine, but if she spends all her time with Ty—“
“Then you’ll spend a wonderful evening by my side,” Brooklyn cut him off. He rolled his eyes.
“Wonderful is not the word—“
“I don’t care. You are so socially awkward. Talk to people at least. Here,” she took his hand. “Let’s go say hi to Averil and all.”
Simon groaned. “Uh, fine.”
She pulled him up to the circle of her closest friends. She couldn’t help staring at Seth, in his tux, standing next to Emma Blake. Brooklyn widened her eyes. She hadn’t seen Emma since high school, and she looked different. She was dressed in a gothic style with her tight black dress and laced up heeled boots. Not something anyone else would wear to a party like this. She wondered what Seth saw in her— in Emma, instead of herself, the beautiful Brooklyn Ryder. She cleared her throat and looked away.
“Hey, Brooklyn,” Ty smiled at her. He was hand in hand with Averil. It struck Brooklyn how opposite they were—Ty all dark, with midnight hair and eyes, and Averil—the golden girl. Averil’s blue eyes widened when she saw Simon.
“Simon! What are you doing here? With Brooklyn?”
Right then, Brooklyn decided to do something nice, for a friend. To help someone else out, so they could at least get their happy ending. So she took Simon’s hand in hers and put on an embarrassed smile. “We’re dating,” she said.
Averil’s mouth popped into a small O. She looked at Simon, who looked extremely surprised, himself, but she stepped on his foot, urging him to go along. He winced when she did, and she realized, belatedly, that her heel must have hurt him. But he smiled and confirmed what she had said. “Yes, it’s true,” he said, and he kissed her cheek lightly. Brooklyn looked to see if Seth was watching, but his face was turned away. She could barely contain her disappointment.
* * * * *
Seth watched as Brooklyn put her hand in Simon’s and turned away, so she wouldn’t see his struck face. Emma stood, oblivious, congratulating Brooklyn. Seth tried to shake it off, but he just couldn’t. Excusing himself, he went out to the balcony. He had always loved it there—the penthouse had the perfect view of New York, in all its sparkling midnight glory. He could see everything from here.
He knew he was being stupid. He should just tell her he loved her. But he couldn’t bring himself to. She didn’t love him back, that was obvious. So what was the point of telling her? She’d laugh in his face. No, she’d be nice, she was Brooklyn. She’d be sympathetic, and he couldn’t bear that. No, he would keep it locked up in him, forever. He had decided.
He turned around to find Emma standing behind him. “Are you okay?” she asked.
He nodded, more like he was trying to convince himself than her. “I think so, yeah. I’ll be fine.”
She lifted a hand up to his cheek. “Are you sure? We can leave, you know.”
Seth closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. She smelled like vanilla. He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m fine, I promise.”
She smiled at that and leaned in closer. He knew what would happen then, and he welcomed it. Even if he couldn’t have Brooklyn, he could still be happy, even a little bit. He tilted his head down, closer to her, until his lips were on hers. He held her tighter as her arms twined up and her fingers curled into his hair. Her lips were soft, and she tasted of cherry lipstick and vodka. He could feel her eyelashes on his cheeks as he kissed her harder. When they pulled apart, they were both disoriented. He had liked kissing her, he knew. She smiled up at him, and he leaned down and kissed her dimple on her left cheek. He ran his thumb under her lip, removing the lipstick he had smudged, and then swept a stray hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.
“We are so not going to Christmas dinner tomorrow,” Emma said, laughing a little breathlessly.
* * * * *
Averil watched Simon and Brooklyn, a little like she was watching a horror movie. And she’d always hated horror movies. She watched how their hands were entwined, how Brooklyn fixed his suit, how they were constantly whispering in each other’s ears. She’d never been so jealous of Simon’s girlfriends before. She’d never liked them, true, but she’d never been so angry. Simon had always been hers. As much as she hated to admit it, she liked having him all to herself. They were so different, Brooklyn and Simon, but he seemed completely taken by her. Averil didn’t know why she was so angry.
Was it possible that she liked Simon? No, she loved Ty. But why did her heart wrench when she saw Brooklyn laughing and leaning into his chest. That had always been her. Ty wrapped his arm around her, trying to get her attention, but she couldn’t rip her eyes away from them. Simon had always needed her so much, but now, it didn’t look like that. And she liked that he needed her. She needed him too, but now, it seemed he wasn’t hers to need anymore. He’d always been her best friend—the boy surrounded by coffee cups and his computer, typing, while his eyes got wide and bleary from lack of sleep. The boy who had always been there for her. She realized, she’d come to love that boy.
She looked up at Ty. He was always enchanting. Like a hero from one of her books. The dark prince, with black hair and charcoal eyes, and who tasted of cigarettes. She loved him, didn’t she? Was it possible that she thought she loved him because everyone in the books loved like that? The ones that were romantic, but alone. The ones who came on their dark horse and whisked the damsel away. Was it possible that, while falling for this story, she had forgotten her best friend? That she never realized that she might love him?
She shook her head. As she glanced down, she realized Ty wasn’t wearing dress shoes, but rather his ratted Converse, with Forever inked on the toes. The words she had written. The words she had believed. And led him to believe.
Ty was amazing, beautiful, and he loved her. So why couldn’t she forget about Simon and give Ty all her love? But she couldn’t. She watched Simon twirl Brooklyn to the music and felt tears coming in. She was so confused; she had no idea what to do.
She turned to Ty. “Can you take me home?”
He looked at her concernedly. “Are you sure? You want to go home?”
She nodded. “Yes, please take me. Please. To my apartment.”
Ty wrapped an arm around her. “Of course.”
He walked her out and into the car, not asking her anything. He was so good, so nice. She hated that she was doing this. But she was disoriented, confused. She needed to be at home, with a mug of hot tea, on the sofa.
He drove her home and kissed her goodbye. She walked inside and sat on her bed. She stared at herself in the mirror opposite. The usually smiling golden girl had eyeliner streaked down her face, as well as tears, and she looked broken. Standing up, she pulled off the pink dress and tied her curled hair in a comfortable bun. She was about to put on her boy short and camisole, but then she put on a robe and padded into Simon’s room. She shifted through his closet and found his worn Coldplay T-shirt. She let her robe fall to a heap at her feet and she pulled the shirt over her head. It dwarfed her, and fell to midthigh, whereas on Simon, it usually made it to his waist. But it smelled of him—of his soap, and aftershave, and his coffee. It felt almost like he was here, wrapped around her. She picked up her robe and went back to her room, where she sank into bed, falling asleep with the feeling of Simon enveloping her.
* * * * *
Romeo watched Kat talking to Brooklyn, admiring the curve of her neck as she threw back her head and laughed, the shape of her mouth, the light in her eyes. He truly was in love with her. He couldn’t believe it had just happened today. They had
gone up to the Empire State Building talking jovially, like friends, but nothing more. However, when they were at the top, looking at the city below them, something changed. He had wrapped an arm around her, on impulse, and she had looked into his eyes. She had smiled, put her arms around his neck, and said, “Well, aren’t you going to kiss me?”
And he had, like he’d never kissed anyone before. And he had realized that he needed her, like a flower needs the sun, or a human needs oxygen. He had just gotten to know her, it was true, but sometimes, he guessed, it didn’t take any longer than that. She was the one. He knew it.
Brooklyn melted into the crowed with Simon, her new boyfriend. Romeo remembered him, from Brooklyn’s senior year in high school. He’d never thought that she liked him like that, though. In fact, it still looked like she didn’t. If he was anyone but her brother, he wouldn’t have noticed, but he could see that it was more like she was acting that she liked him than she really did. He wondered what was going on. He’d ask her later.
He turned to Kat. She smiled up at him. “This party is pretty amazing.”
“My mother throws one every year. I’ve been coming since I was twelve, and they let me in. Before that, I had to stay in my room.” Kat laughed. “The worst year was when I was eleven and Brooklyn was allowed to be here and I was holed up in my room.”
“That must have sucked. I can picture a little you, crying on his bed,” Kat smiled.
“I admit, I did cry a little. But Brooklyn snuck in with a glass of wine, and we both took a sip. We were curious. Of course, we both threw up on my Armani sheets. My mother was horrified when she found out.”
Kat laughed. “I think I started drinking wine at seventeen. You started at eleven. And I thought the French were the wine people. But I can’t imagine Brooklyn as a little girl. She’s so grown up and poised.”
Romeo laughed. “Oh, she was wearing this red frock with three roses on the sash, and her hair was in these ringlets. She spent a lot of time in front of the mirror, staring at herself beforehand. It was her first time with makeup and hot rollers.”
Brooklyn had snuck up behind him by then. “No, it wasn’t.” Romeo jumped and spun around. She was standing there, Simon in tow. “Remember? When I was eight, we snuck into Mom’s room and you helped me steal her rollers. I tried to use them, but I burnt my hair.”
“So that’s why you’ve got a bald stop back there,” Kat teased.
Brooklyn put on a mock horrified face. “I haven’t got a bald spot!”
“Believe what you want, sis,” Romeo said, patting her arm. They were all laughing then, even Simon, who had looked a little uncomfortable the whole night.
* * * * *
Brooklyn rode to Simon’s apartment in the limo to drop him off. They both got out and hugged, somewhat awkwardly as the button on his wrist snagged her dress, and they had to unravel it. “Thanks, for taking me.” Simon said.
Brooklyn winked. “I’m sure she likes you. Did you see her face when we made our announcement? And she left soon after. I really think you have a shot here.”
Simon smiled. “I hope you’re right. Thanks. I’m sorry if it felt like I was using you.”
Brooklyn shook her head. “No, it’s okay, really. And I may have been kind of using you too. Don’t think that worked, though.”
He walked inside, yelling another, “Thanks, bye,” before shutting the door. Brooklyn sat back in the limo as the driver took her home. When she got back to the penthouse, Romeo was waiting.
“Hey,” she said.
“Why were you pretending to like Simon?” he asked her.
“How did you know?” she asked, confusedly.
“Please, Brooklyn. I’m your brother. I know.”
She put her head in her hands. “I was helping Simon to get Averil to notice him. He’s in love with her, and, well—I thought I’d help him out.”
Romeo gave her a small smile. “That’s fine, but I don’t believe for a second that it was purely a selfless act.”
She sighed. “I may have also been using him to do the same thing to Seth.”
Romeo put his arm around her. “Brooklyn—“ he started, but she cut him off.
“No, Romeo. I don’t want to talk about this.” She looked up at him. “How do we always end up like this on Christmas Eve?”
Romeo smiled and shrugged. Just then, Natalia came bounding down to them. Though her hair was still curled, and she still wore her makeup, she was wearing silk shorts and a camisole—her bedtime attire. “Hey, guys. That was an awesome party.”
Brooklyn smiled. “Yeah. Hey, did you see Seth leave?”
Natalia nodded. “Yeah, he left with the combat boots girl. They were making out in the balcony, and then they just left. Why?” she asked innocently.
Brooklyn groaned and hung her head, leaning on Romeo. He stroked her back gently. Natalia watched concernedly, but Romeo just quietly shook his head at her. She nodded and crept quietly upstairs.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Brooklyn said, through her tears.
“It’s okay. Do you want to be alone? Should I go?” he asked. But Brooklyn shook her head.
“I need you, Romeo. Don’t go,” she cried, on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, held her, as she cried. He felt her shake against him. It broke his heart, how much she was hurting. If he hadn’t promised, he’d go to Seth right now, and tell him. Because he was sure, Seth would love his sister back. But he couldn’t, because he had promised Brooklyn he wouldn’t.
Brooklyn wiped her eyes and stood up. She hugged her brother. “Thank you, I needed that,” she said, between hiccups. “I’m going to bed.”
She made her way to her room where Kat was already sleeping on the bed they had put next to her own. She slept so soundly, and was, Brooklyn realized, in Romeo’s shirt. For once, she didn’t protest. She was just happy that someone had gotten the person they loved. Sighing, she let herself be enveloped in her silken sheets, and eventually, fell asleep.
* * * * *
Averil woke up early, when it was still misty and grey outside, and the apartment was quiet. She loved this time, in the morning. When no one was awake and there was a serenity that settled over everything. It was her favorite part of the day.
She slipped out of bed and opened the window. She threw her head out, and felt the cold morning air hit her.
“Hey, Averil, have you seen my Coldplay T-shirt?” Simon’s voice came from the doorway. She spun around, and his mouth formed into an O.
She looked down at herself, in his T-shirt, self consciously. She wasn’t wearing anything below it except her underwear. She tugged the bottom of the shirt. Simon was turning red. “Oh, you—I—I didn’t know. You, can— you can, keep it.”
Averil gave him a small smile, but her heart ached. Suddenly, she blurted out, “Are you really dating Brooklyn Ryder?”
“Why? You don’t like her?” Simon asked.
She shook her head. “No, I do like her. She’s one of my best friends, but I never imagined you two together.” she said, somewhat shyly. She could hardly believe she had asked him about it. She’d kick herself for it later.
He shook his head. “No, we aren’t dating actually.”
She felt her heart leap, but she was confused. “Then, why—“
And then Simon sighed. He looked at her like he was working up the courage to say something. And then he said it so quickly, she almost missed it. “Brooklyn was helping me get you.”
Averil felt her eyes get wider. “What?”
He moved across the room, till they were a foot apart. “I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I loved you when we met. When your hair was this short,” he said, touching the bottom of her neck. “I loved you when you made me sit in every one of your dance recitals. I loved you when we moved here. I loved you when you forced me to watch The Nutcracker over and over again. I’ve always loved you,” the words coming out in a rush. It felt so good to just say it.
Averil heard him say it, and realization flooded through her. He loved her. He really did. And she had no doubt that she really loved him, truly. She threw herself in his arms. He gasped in surprise, like he had expected anything but this. “Averil?” he asked.
She was smiling then, almost laughing with joy. She looked into his deep brown eyes. “I love you,” she said breathlessly. She ran her fingers through his curls, and removed his glasses. Somehow his eyes were darker and bigger without them. And his lashes were long, almost feminine, and they cast shadows underneath his eyes. He smiled, and leaned closer, till their foreheads were pressed together. He had been wishing for this moment for so long.
“Really? You love me?” he said it wonderingly, like he never expected it.
“I think, I think I might have always loved you too. I didn’t know it, but I’ve always loved you too.”
And then, he leaned down, and gently, he kissed her. He tasted like coffee and mint, and his lips were soft on hers. His hands slid into her hair, and she twined her arms around his neck. She’d never realized how much she needed him. Heat radiated off him, and everywhere they touched, there were sparks. She felt their lips fit together like puzzle pieces—perfect. His lips molded against hers in perfect synchronization and his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer.
When they broke apart, she looked up at him, and his dark brown eyes were alight with a fire she had never seen in them before. “I love you,” he said.
She smiled. “You already told me that.”
He pushed a stray hair back from her face. “I know, but, I—“
She laughed. He was so sweet, and so shy. “I love you too.” Then she frowned.
His eyes widened, like she was going to take it all back. “What? What? What could possibly be wrong?”
Her shoulders sagged. “Ty. What am I supposed to tell Ty? I told him I loved him.”
“Did you?”
“I thought I did. I mean, I love him, but as a friend. I don’t think I was ever in love with him. I love you.”
“Then we’ll get through this, together.”
And then he kissed her, again.
* * * * *
“Merry Christmas! Brooklyn. Brooklyn. Brooklyn, wake up. It’s Christmas!”