Wayward (Wayward #1) ✓ [bxb]

Chapter 27

SONG - THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE - BANKS

Strangely enough, I hated Christmas in New York. In Greendale, I didn't fancy it either but it was more indifference than anything. When I was younger I loved it but growing up became a different case. Gone was the magic and wonder of the most special month of the year; it's replacement was that Christmas had simply become the second holiday in a year that I was allowed to eat whatever I wanted without (some) guilt.

But moving to New York, I hated it for different reasons. As early as November, the major stores and shops would start putting up signs and decorations. Most people started shopping early on before the retail craze began.

During the second week of December, it became a fully mad thing. Almost everywhere you went Christmas carols were blasting around. Some cheeky carolers would come out to screech annoying renditions of holiday classics (oh Boney M how you've suffered). Red and white streamers were everywhere along with ridiculous Merry Christmas neon signs.

Then the pressure to buy Christmas gifts for people would mount on my shoulders.

Each year I sent presents to my family since I never went home for the break. The only person I'd ever really looked forward to see was my Dad but he couldn't leave my Mom and Chris home just to come and visit me.

My avoidance was a known fact but not one any of us acknowledged. Mom pretended like she didn't know how much it agonized me to call her at the end of each month, acting like we were on good terms rather than the strained individuals we both knew we were. Dad acted like my refusal to visit home was some prolonged hiatus and not because I surely would be burned on a stake the minute I stepped into town.

They knew what I'd done during my senior year before bolting to college, yet it was never spoken of. Just another incident swept under the rug.

In a way I should be grateful. With no one to make me remember, it was one less memory that allowed me to sleep better at night.

Over the past few years, that had slowly become my own personal motto. Forgot your actions and pretend they never happened.

That must be how murders live with themselves.

"The two of you are being extremely unhelpful right now," Jay commented at Patrick and me. We were both draped lazily on one of the short couches in the clothes store where he had dragged us to go shopping. He and Patrick were hosting a dinner party for the holiday which would consist of Patrick's co-workers and some of the guys at NYU where Jay and I went to. Therefore, it was decided that Jay needed a new outfit for the occasion and as his boyfriend and best friend respectively, Patrick and I were forced to come along.

"You look good. Like you've looked in the past ten outfits," I said exasperatedly.

He rolled his eyes "I'm going to try the next one," Then disappeared back into the changing room. Patrick took the opportunity to sigh "He's like this every Christmas. Holiday crazy."

I grinned "Well you're going to endure it for the rest of your life so no use complaining."

He sighed but I could tell he didn't care "Like the past four years haven't told me anything."

Jay jumped out of the dressing room wearing a grey sweatshirt "How's this look?"

"Beautiful," Patrick said with a dreamy look. Jay wrinkled his nose "It's just a shirt babe. Don't get a boner." But he was cleared endeared by the compliment. I pretended to gag "As wonderfully disgusting as this is, I'm bored and hungry so speed up the process."