Her Name Was December

Day 23

When Greyson woke up on January 10th, he wasn't warm and safe under the covers of his own bed at home. Instead, he was half-covered with a thick blanket that had been weighed down by a night's worth of melted snow. Next to him, December was sitting up straight, wide awake, with the first hints of sunlight dancing in her eyes.

He was confused at first, but then he remembered the hours they had spent talking the night before. By the time he had fallen asleep, the birds were already singing and all the people in Fenton who worked a morning shift were beginning to drive off into the city. It couldn't be but a few hours later.

Greyson never expected to fall asleep next to a beautiful girl in the back of her pickup truck, let alone wake up there. So, he laid there for a while, savoring the smell of the morning dew and the sight of December with her golden hair unraveling at her shoulders. He watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed slow and deep, and it was one moment in his life he swore he felt peace.

"I know you're awake." December said.

Greyson sat up and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "Oh." he said with a small chuckle.

As he stretched his arms into the air, his sleeves slid down and he felt the prick of the cold air raise the hair on his arms. He crossed his legs and pulled the snow-soaked blanket up to his chest, hoping it would warm him up, but instead it stuck to his clothes and caused him to shiver.

He sighed, looking at December as her hopeful eyes awaited the rising sun. "Hey..." he said hesitantly. She turned to him silently with her eyebrows turned upward. "Let's go back to my place, yeah? You can still kinda see the horizon from there. It may not be as magical as this, but, let's be honest. My house is warmer than yours." He laughed and held the blanket up, wringing a small puddle of ice cold water from it. Before she had the chance to refuse, he added, "I insist."

She agreed with an expected amount of resistance, but with one condition. She would drive.

* * * * *

December and Greyson sat on opposite ends of his couch. December was leaning against its arm with her hands in her lap and her legs tucked to the side. She had sat that way for hours, and Greyson couldn't help but think how uncomfortable she must feel. He hadn't heard her say anything but to request that they watch Friends, so that's what they did. All day. It was his own house, and Greyson sat rigidly on furniture that he'd usually be carelessly draped across without hesitation.

Finally, December spoke. "So Grey, who's your favorite character?"

After Greyson got over the fact that she had just called him Grey, the pink flushed from his cheeks and he found the strength to answer. "I know it's the most typical answer ever, but I really like Ross and Rachel."

December shook her head and smirked. "Again, you're such a square."

"Fine then, who's your favorite?" Greyson scoffed and crossed his arms, hurt.

"My favorite is Phoebe, because not many people know the truth about her." she replied.

"Oh, yeah? And what is that?"

"She's a homeless meth addict! The entire show is clearly just her drug-fueled hallucination."

Greyson laughed. "December, what the hell are you talking about?"

"It's not a joke! She's always talking about how she's an outsider. Doesn't it make sense that she's a lonely homeless person who uses drugs to imagine what her life would be like if she just had... Friends?" Greyson continued to laugh, and even though she was trying to be angry, this caused December to giggle too. "It's a real conspiracy, I swear! Look it up sometime."

After their laughter had died down and December reverted back to her favorite TV show, Greyson noticed that it was already late afternoon. Outside the windows, the wind whipped flurries of snow from the tops of the buildings and ice covered the pavement, making it hard to walk and even harder to drive. December finally looked comfortable, with her legs tucked into her chest under a blanket and a steaming cup of coffee in her hands.

"December?" Greyson said quietly. His heart was racing and she looked over at him with a faint smile that made his nervous breathing even shakier. "I think... I think you should stay here for a while. Just, you know... Until the weather gets nicer."

December's coffee left her lips and she looked down into it as she sighed, swirling the drink around in the mug.

Quickly, Greyson continued, "It's just really cold out, and there's supposed to be a horrible blizzard over the next few days, and... I don't want to think about you being out there all alone in that shitty clunker of a pickup." December raised an eyebrow and watched as Greyson tried desperately to keep talking, just so she wouldn't have a chance to say no. "I mean, no offense, but that thing just isn't a home. You need to be warm, and safe, and I-"

"Sure." December said plainly, cutting him off. She took another sip of her coffee and didn't take her eyes off of the television screen for a second.

"What?"

"I said sure, I'll stay." she told him, almost annoyed that she had to repeat herself.

"...Oh." he said, shocked at how casual this was to her. Normally, she'd refuse his help over and over again. Greyson always saw her as some sort of a fortress, like he'd have to knock down a wall or two just to get her to let him in. He figured, everyone gets sick of being alone eventually.

He didn't want to be alone anymore, and even more so, he didn't want December to be alone. He'd used to think high school was hell on Earth, but after nearly two years without it, he began to notice how much he missed the comfort of daily human contact. He missed getting pissed at teachers because he felt they were unfair. He missed crowded cafeterias and smelly locker rooms and late night stress. He even missed following Michael around to house parties and watching in envy as he picked up girls.

The truth is, maybe he was asking December to stay with him for more reasons than just the cold. Selfish reasons. Maybe, it finally hit him that he hadn't been happier in the past two years than when he was with her; watching her gems of eyes light up when she saw the sunrise, or sharing a coffee in the musty old bookstore, or even just sitting on his couch, getting all passionate about fan conspiracies. He finally realized that his life had changed when she walked through that door on December 19th, and he couldn't go back to falling asleep alone on his couch with a soda in his hand every night.

There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Hey, December?"

She sighed deeply and slouched over before setting her mug on the table and turning toward him with her legs crossed. "What is it now?"

"I..."

She was frustrated now. All she wanted to do was watch her show in peace. "Go on, then."

Greyson folded his hands in his lap and pressed his fingernails into his palms. He looked December straight in the eyes for what could easily have been the first time. He spoke with certainty.

"...I love you."