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TWO

I was always like a sister to Jake. We were inseparable, bound together by a strong bond. He would always rely on me, and I was always sure I could lean on him for support. When we were younger, he would always rant to me about his life at home, and, with nothing interesting happening with me, I'd always listen.

Jake's father left when he was six. We were best friends for four years then. His parents were always fighting. Jake would always be at my house on the holidays. He would try to escape the shouting as best he could. Eventually, his dad left. He just walked out the door with his wallet and phone and never returned. After a year or so, his mum remarried to one of her colleagues at work. They had children, and Jake then got two adorable stepsisters. But he would always complain to me, about how they would always scream, and how he had to play with them after school, instead of doing his homework. Then his stepfather would yell at him if he got bad grades.

Once Sasha and Amelia were old enough to go to kindy, Jake's mum and stepdad were always at work. They asked for longer shifts, and would leave early in the morning, and come back late at night. They were both workaholics, and couldn't care less for their children, especially Jake.

When Jake's stepdad, Ian, was home, he would always find an excuse to shout at him, make him feel small and drive him into anxiety. Jake would always hide out at my house doing homework and helping around the house even.

My mum and dad always thought he was part of the family.

I could sense that Jake was looking for someone to love him, that he could trust, someone more than a friend. He was always hanging around my parents like he was their kid.

And sometimes, in those dark, sad moments when we would climb the large Spruce at the back of my garden, he would confess that his house was a nightmare, that he wanted to get adopted by someone as nice as my parents. Sometimes I would see him with bruises on his face and arms. It would always break my heart, seeing him so broken and hurt. I would hug him, sometimes cry with him, and I would always make him feel better.

We were almost complete opposites. I was loud and was always happy to talk and talk and talk, whereas Jake liked to listen, only talking when he needed to. Nonetheless, we were like two peas in a pod.

We were brother and sister. I guess nothing more could come of that.

*

That night, I was in bed early, but I was still awake by quarter to twelve. It was snowing outside, but my mind wasn't in the right places. I couldn't help thinking about the party. I wanted to go - really badly. It was going to be at this posh guy's mansion. His daughter, Anabelle attended the same school as us, and she threw a party every year and invited everyone. Jake and I were always invited, and we never went. We always thought it was for the cool kids. Jake would always convince me not to go, promise to make it up by getting me early Christmas presents.

It bugged me that Jake never wanted to go with me. But he wanted to go with Skye. I guess that going out with Skye made Jake popular now.

But I always wanted to go. I always wanted to be part of the Christmas magic. I was never quite sure why I never went, but maybe this could be my chance. By twelve-thirty, I sent a hasty, nervous RSVP to Anabelle and got an instant reply, saying that it was too late to be awake.

I still wasn't sure whether I did the right thing, by going without telling Jake, but at that time, I didn't really care. I was going, and I was going to have fun.

The snow stopped falling by then, and eventually, I fell asleep.