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“If I never have to say the words ‘Happy Holidays’ again, it’ll be too soon,” Joy-Ce grumbled, stretching his sore shoulders. T-Bam nodded, arms twisted in a similar position.
“And those people who get pissy that you didn’t say Merry Christmas or whatever. Like, okay, I hope all your holidays suck. Forever,” T-Bam chuckled, rolling his eyes.
“Ready?” Joy-Ce nodded, following T-Bam to his tiny, powder blue car.
The pair found themselves in an elegant bookstore across town, rifling through shelves and squinting at titles.
“You think Gray would like this?” T-Bam waved a novel in front of Joy-Ce.
“Maybe if you stopped moving it I could look,” Joy-Ce teased, gently grabbing the book from T-Bam’s grasp. T-Bam merely stuck his tongue out in response.
Joy-Ce rubbed his thumb along the embossed edges of the cover. It looked like something Gray would enjoy-smart and refined, but there was one thing missing.
“I…” Joy-Ce trailed off as his thoughts took shape, “What if you got this, but as an audiobook?”
“Genius!”
The two scurried over to the bookstore’s audio selection-a small room full of lacquer painted wooden crates that were bulging with records, tapes and CDs. The book was easy enough to find, a large record boasting the same image as its hardcover version.
“Do you think this is good? Like, not a CD?” T-Bam frowned, holding the record up.
“Have you seen Gray? He loves records.”
“Point taken,” T-Bam laughed, “okay, this for Gray and I got some paints for Haze. Think I’m ready. How about you?”
“I’m good on Gray and…” Joy-Ce trailed off a little. He’d made a gift for Haze too, but the thought of presenting it made him want to throw up a little. His eyes fell on a stray CD, tucked between two records. He snatched it up. There! Looked like a band Haze would like.
“This for Haze,” he said triumphantly.
“And I thought I was last-minute,” T-Bam rolled his eyes playfully.
The drive back to Joy-Ce’s was a short one, with the friends belting Christmas songs off-key as the radio crackled.
“See you tomorrow!”
“Bye, T,” Joy-Ce trudged up his sagging steps, door squeaking as he opened it. The lights were off, the house chilly as if it had been vacant for some time. Joy-Ce shuddered a little before flipping on the overhead.
“Grace? Dad?” He called out tentatively.
“He’s at work, like always,” Grace emerged from her room, squinting at the bag in Joy-Ce’s hands. “Who’s that for?”
“Haze,” Joy-Ce took the CD out of the bag, Grace oohing and ahhing right on cue. He took his time repackaging the CD, trying to phrase his next question.
“You got plans tomorrow night?” Hopefully it came off casual. Grace was plenty capable of handling herself, but a little part of him would always worry. What if something happened and she couldn’t reach him?
“Yep! With Ari,” Grace nodded. Joy-Ce tried to hide his relief.
“You’re funny,” Grace chuckled. Okay, so he hadn’t hidden it very well.
“Wanna make cookies?”
“Sure,” Grace shrugged, following him to the kitchen. It was their tradition, started when Joy-Ce was just nine. Their mother had left, and he wanted cookies, so he and Grace made some cookies. When the oven was on, baking the room and melting the butter they’d spilled on the stove, the house felt full. Like it had before she left.
“I’m not ready for flour yet!” Grace chastised, swatting Joy-Ce’s dusty hands away.
“What does it matter when you add it?” Joy-Ce scoffed.
“It’s a process, Joy-Ce. Go babysit the wet ingredients,” Grace yanked the measuring cup from his hand, pointing towards the small cluster of bowls on the counter. He methodically dumped them in, mixing them until they made an unappetizing looking brown sludge.
Once the dough passed Grace’s judgmental eye, they poured a heap of chocolate chips in, loading a tray in the oven.
“We are so good at this,” Grace remarked happily, breaking a chunk off a cookie and popping it in her mouth.
“We really are,” Joy-Ce agreed, dunking a cookie in milk.
After squabbling over who would do the dishes and stockpiling a few cookies to keep in their rooms, Joy-Ce and Grace retired for the evening. Joy-Ce had the CD and his handmade gift for Haze out on his bedroom floor. No, he should just go with the CD. With a half-disappointed, half-relieved sigh, he wrapped it in pink tissue paper.
People live here?!
Joy-Ce’s car crept down the street as he tried not to gawk at the towering houses. Inflatable decorations waved at him from every corner, and rainbow lights illuminated house numbers. Let’s see…he was pretty sure this one was Haze’s. A tiny powder blue car in the driveway only confirmed his suspicions.
Joy-Ce scooped his small pile of gifts under his arm, frowning slightly at the top one. Of course Haze’s gift would be the one with the squished bow. The man lived in one of the nicest houses in town, and Joy-Ce was about to hand him a present that looked like a dog’s chew toy. Great way to thank the host.
The Christmas party had been at the diner after hours for the past two years. It just made sense-it was a convenient location, Gray had keys, and although the place normally looked grimy, Haze’s decorations made it magical. He’d downright insisted on hosting this year-something about moving and finally having a proper space to decorate. A little part of him wished they were going to Gray’s or T-Bam’s instead, and he tried to squash it down. This is your friend, Joy-Ce chided himself, don’t be weird.
As if Joy-Ce had telepathically summoned him, Gray opened the door as he was walking up the stone steps, a wide smile on his face.
“Gray! Hey, hope you weren’t waiting long,” Joy-Ce returned the smile, juggling his gifts.
“Not at all, Joy-Ce. May I give you a hand with your parcels?” His voice was smooth and silvery, instantly making Joy-Ce feel a little calmer. He accepted the offer with a grateful nod.
“Oh, careful with that top one, it’s already messy-” Joy-Ce blurted out. Gray adjusted his hold on the package with a knowing glance.
“It looks lovely, Joy-Ce. I’d be thrilled to accept this if I were the host,” Gray finished with a feather-light squeeze of Joy-Ce’s fingers. How did he always know exactly what to say? Joy-Ce stepped in the doorway, vision bombarded with strings of colorful lights draped across the walls and shimmering ornaments hanging from feathery green garlands. Judging by the piney scent, they were real too-yet the floor didn’t have a single needle on it. Just perfect, gleaming marble, so polished Joy-Ce could almost check his reflection. He slipped his shoes off, slightly worn sneakers screaming from the floor.
“Shall we?” Gray tilted his head towards a twisted brick archway.
-
To put it mildly, the main room made the entryway look like Joy-Ce’s tiny artificial tree at home. There were not one , but two Christmas trees-the biggest pine Joy-Ce had ever seen, decorated with soft golden lights and crystalline glass ornaments that cast a thousand tiny sparkles on the wall. A bundle of pristinely wrapped gifts huddled under its branches-in gold and silver paper, of course. The other tree had snowy white branches, decorated in splashes of pink, yellow, blue and lavender. The uniformly wrapped gifts under it were flanked with a few outsiders-oh, his were getting added to the pile. Silver string lights bathed the room in an eerie, yet peaceful glow.
“Joy-Ce!” A hand entered his field of vision. Oh! Haze saw him staring, but judging by his smile, it wasn’t a problem.
“Hey! Sorry, I was…y’know,” Joy-Ce gestured to the decorations. Haze laughed, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Honestly, super flattered,” Haze shifted so the two were standing side by side, “I redid it a million times, but I think that reaction made it all worth it.” He punctuated the phrase with a final squeeze and a warm grin.
“It’s nuts. I can’t imagine what the place looks like year round,” Joy-Ce commented, trailing Haze through a small hallway at the edge of the room. As they approached the door at the end of the hall, a flurry of spices tickled Joy-Ce’s nose. His stomach rumbled appreciatively, making Haze giggle.
“Paintbrushes. So many paintbrushes,” Haze twisted the kitchen’s silver knob, jingle bell knocker chirping from the force. He ushered Joy-Ce in with a flourish, clicking the door shut behind him.
“Look who I found!” Haze said in a sing-song tone, making T-Bam look up from the tray of brownies he was fiddling with. Upon seeing Joy-Ce, he broke off a chunk and passed it to him.
“Will you taste this for me? Haze says it’s good, but he’ll eat anything.” Joy-Ce lifted the steaming morsel to his mouth, salivating as the chocolate melted on his tongue.
“Maybe…” Joy-Ce trailed off, “some dark chocolate on top?”
“See!” T-Bam turned to Haze triumphantly, “I told you it needed something else.”
“Well excuse me for trying to be a supportive friend!” Haze put a hand to his heart in mock offense.
Joy-Ce hoisted himself on the counter next to T-Bam as the latter and Haze put the finishing touches on the food and beverages. The kitchen fell into a comfortable chatter, the group’s sub-conversations occasionally overlapping. The oven baked the room in a cozy heat, bathing Joy-Ce in a sense of comfort. It felt like cooking with Grace, hanging out in the kitchen long after their dish had finished.
“As fun as this little kitchen soiree is,” Haze cleared his throat, bringing Joy-Ce back to the present, “I didn’t do all that decorating in the main room for nothing! Move out!” He pointed towards the door with a flourish, other hand carrying a tray of snacks. Joy-Ce slid off the counter, hurrying to grab the door for the others.
“Let’s do gifts!” T-Bam suggested, failing to hide the eagerness in his tone.
“Your subtlety is charming,” Gray cut in, mouth curling into a smirk.
“What subtlety? It’s Christmas and I like stuff,” T-Bam retorted with a shrug.
“I agree with T-Bam,” Joy-Ce piped up. They’d brought gifts, he reasoned. What was the point in pretending like they didn’t want them?
“As a fellow stuff enjoyer, I have to agree,” Haze cut in, flashing the group a bright grin.
Thankfully, his friends fell into the ‘open everything at once’ school of unwrapping, though they had different ways of doing it. T-Bam and Joy-Ce pelted each other with as much wrapping paper as they could, while Gray was so methodical you could have re-used even the tape pieces.
“YOU GOT ME A SKATEBOARD?!” T-Bam shrieked, making Joy-Ce look up from the sea of wrapping paper he was buried in. He grinned, sliding over to T-Bam.
“You mentioned wanting to learn, so I got my old board fixed up. Figured we could go together sometime. Oh, flip it over!” He’d applied a simple, powder-blue finish on the board’s underside-nothing special, but T-Bam gasped like it was something beautiful. He placed the board down gently before tackling Joy-Ce in a hug.
“You’re the best, dude. Thank you so much.”
All too soon, the unwrapping was over, and Joy-Ce had a cluster of treasures to take home. The gifts were thoughtful-new shin guards from Gray, a cookbook from T-Bam, and a headphone case from Haze.
“This is like, my favorite album of all time,” Haze squealed, plopping down next to him. “I have it on record, cassette, and digital.” Joy-Ce internally chastised himself, face beginning to burn.
“I’m sorry, I can take it back-”
“What?! No! My collection’s finally complete!”
“So you,” Joy-Ce frowned a little, “ want the same album over and over?”
“Well, that’s simplifying it,” Haze began, “various mediums make it sound different-the same album won’t sound identical on your phone vs. a record player. So, I get to experience my favorite album all over again for the first time. Plus, when I love something I want it in as many ways as I can get it, y’know?”
“That makes sense,” Joy-Ce nodded. Granted, Haze could have just made all that up on the spot, but it was still sweet of him to come thank Joy-Ce. Man, he really had the best friends in the world. Now if only his mug weren’t empty, this would be the perfect evening.
He strode through the empty hallway with a slight shiver, eager to get back to the warm, cramped feeling of the kitchen. His friends’ laughter got quieter before crescendoing into a wave. Probably Gray. You wouldn’t know it by looking at him, but he had a knack for storytelling.
Joy-Ce closed the kitchen door with a soft jingle, scanning the floury countertops for the pitcher of hot cocoa. There! In all its chocolatey, ceramic glory-Joy-Ce’s hands shook a little as he held it. It would be just his luck to drop something right now. The liquid sloshed against the side of the mug, and Joy-Ce took a swig.
Nope. Not even slightly warm chocolate at this point. He grimaced a little-if his hot chocolate wasn’t boiling, it was basically a waste, right? His eyes fell on the microwave above the stove-vintage, the strangest looking microwave he’d ever seen. What could be the harm in warming his mug up a little? Joy-Ce reached for a few marshmallows, plopping them into his chocolate with a grin.
After placing his mug in the microwave, Joy-Ce turned his back to the machine, hunching over his phone to check his text messages. Oh, Grace wanted to know where his sweatshirt was. Not like she wasn’t constantly stealing it. She was probably the one who had it last.
What was that sound? Joy-Ce whipped his head around in annoyance at the mechanical grinding, fully prepared to tell the microwave off-
the blast sent him reeling.
Joy-Ce laid on the ground, struggling to inhale, head scraping against the quickly-warming linoleum. The coughing fits felt like glass slicing into his throat. He’d just lay there for a second, until he got his strength back. Maybe his hot chocolate would be done, too. The more he tried to breathe, the more exhausted he felt, coughs and wheezes wracking his body. He tried to sit up, take a look around, but his eyes had something dripping into them.
“Joy-Ce, you need to move, now ,” He barely caught the words through the pervasive ringing in his ears.
Gray?
“I got hurt,” It’s one of those things Joy-Ce didn’t fully realize until he said it, until he brought a hand to his cheek and it came back streaked with red. But if Gray was telling him to move, he had good reason.
“Joy-Ce, you aren’t safe. Go. Stay low, bud.”
Joy-Ce stuck a shaking arm in front of him, pulling himself forward a few inches. Then another. Then another. Tears dripped down his cheeks, splashing in the thin stream of blood from his-well, he didn’t know where exactly he was bleeding from. His breaths only got more frantic, thin gasps between even more violent coughs.
Occasionally, Joy-Ce sank his palms into a sharp edge of debris, and his already weak joints would give out completely. The room stank of burning wood, hair, and vomit-though he couldn’t remember throwing up. Though it couldn’t have been more than a few moments, it felt like the longest time of Joy-Ce’s life. He was alone. Completely, utterly alone.
“You’re almost there, Joy-Ce.”
No, not completely alone.
Finally , he made it to the door, heart sinking when he realized it was closed. He reached up as much as he could, fingertips blistering against the scorching metal. With the last of his effort, he pushed himself up on his palm, falling against the door when he heard the soft jingle of the knocker.
“Don’t go,” he barely got the words out, voice thick and clumsy in his ears. His eyelids began to droop.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
-
Haze didn’t think anything of the crash -sure, he’d heard it, but he figured someone had just dropped something in the kitchen. Luckily, he’d remembered to set out his ‘guest dishes’-the ones he wouldn’t be too brokenhearted over if they shattered. He shook his head a little, refocusing on Gray’s story.
A shrill beeping slapped him across the face, a sound he was intimately familiar with-he did work in a restaurant, after all. Judging by the grim look on Gray’s face, he knew it too. Haze gave the air a tentative sniff, hoping it was just a false alarm.
Yeah, not a false alarm.
Haze rolled his eyes, more annoyed than anything. Hopefully it was just a small blaze, and he wasn’t going to have to fight with the insurance people. He, T, Gray, and Joy-Ce would hang out outside until the fire department came, have endless jokes about their Christmas party going out with a bang.
Wait.
WAIT.
“T,” Gray was already on his feet, “Get outside. Call 911. Don’t come back in.” How was his voice so calm? T-Bam gave Gray a quick nod, racing past him and towards the entryway. Seemingly satisfied, Gray turned his attention to Haze.
“Haze. We have to go.”
“Joy-Ce,” Haze looked up at Gray and towards the kitchen hallway, hoping he could hear what Haze was trying to say. Gray let out a string of curses, turning to the kitchen hallway.
“Haze. Go unlock the door and get outside.” His voice was somehow even more measured. Haze got up, stumbling towards the door, when the sight in the hall stopped him cold.
Angry tongues of fire licked past the kitchen doorway, devouring any sign of life they could sniff out. Smoke clouds billowed through the hall, casting Joy-Ce’s crumpled form in odd shadows. He didn’t get up. Gray shouted for him. He didn’t get up.
The thought that Joy-Ce could be dead, that Haze’s house was the last building he’d ever walk into, was unmooring. It was enough to make Haze remember how to move, to stumble after Gray. The smoke blurred his vision, and he zeroed in on a large spot of bright pink. Joy-Ce had been wearing that, right? He could hear Gray’s hacking fits over his own, and he silently prayed that Gray wouldn’t pass out too.
“Gray!” Haze wheezed, making Gray-or at least what he thought was Gray-whipped his head around, giving Haze a quick nod. Haze stooped, circling his hands around Joy-Ce’s ankles and lifting upwards. Gray got a similar hold on Joy-Ce’s shoulders, and the three took slow, shaky steps towards the front door. Every so often, Haze’s fingers would brush against a burned piece of fabric, and he winced.
“Finally!” T-Bam shouted, throwing the door open with a thunderous crack. Haze didn’t trust himself to respond, taking deep breaths of chilly night air. His throat burned like a volcano, and he could only imagine how Joy-Ce’s felt.
They laid Joy-Ce on the grass, turning him on his side-Gray insisted-and Haze took a good look at his friend for the first time.
The sight turned his blood to ice.
He just had to host the Christmas party this year, didn’t he?
“Haze!...HAZE!” Someone was trying to get his attention. He slowly opened his mouth to respond.
The sirens cut him off, crescendoing with a harmony of blue, red and yellow lights. Cruelly, they reminded Haze of the string lights he’d spent so long picking out. He could faintly hear Gray and T-Bam shouting, trying to flag the trucks down. He knew he should join them, but his tongue felt like lead in the bottom of his mouth. Haze watched numbly as four firefighters raced into his home, carrying a snaking hose that looked impossibly long as one of them shouted orders in a cool, sharp tone. Black patches began to bloom in his vision, and he had to look away.
Someone was trying to lift Joy-Ce, and Haze’s fingers tightened around his wrist.
“Darlin’,” The EMT’s voice was syrupy southern. Her partner was considerably less warm, scooping Joy-Ce up in a businesslike fashion.
Haze let go just enough for the paramedic to hoist Joy-Ce onto a stretcher, strapping an oxygen mask to his face and spreading a blanket over his legs. That was nice. He was probably cold.
“You alright, darlin’?” The EMT squatted to meet him, dark eyes furrowed with concern. Of course he wasn’t. He could barely hear her over the whooshing in his ears. But he nodded anyway. Seemingly satisfied, the EMT turned to Gray, checking him over despite his insistence that he was fine and she needed to focus on Joy-Ce.
“One of you can ride with us,” the EMT offered, eyes shifting from T-Bam to Gray to Haze.
“I will,” Gray spoke up, “T, you two meet me in a bit?”
-
Haze barely heard anything the firefighters said-it felt like they were talking underwater.
It was his fault.
The black patches were back with a vengeance.
Once the fire crew had departed, Haze still sat, staring into the night until a loud sob broke him from his stupor.
T-Bam sat next to him on the grass, shoulders shaking as wails poured from his mouth. It was the kind of crying a little kid does, the kind that almost sounds like screams.
“Hey, I got you,” Haze’s voice was soft as the wind. He put an arm around T-Bam, stroking his shoulder with his thumb.
“Don’t do that again,” T-Bam choked out, wiping his eyes with his powder blue sleeves.
“Don’t do what again, T?”
“Leave me alone like that. I know you’re scared, but I am too, and I had to deal with that shit alone!” A fresh wave of sobs began, and Haze could practically hear his heart snap. He patted his denim jacket pocket-miraculously he’d grabbed his keys, and stood, offering T-Bam a hand. T-Bam looked at his outstretched fingers, then up at Haze.
“I’m right here, T.”
T-Bam’s face melted into an exhausted relief, tightening his fingers around Haze’s. He didn’t let go until he fell asleep, which was almost immediately after the car started. Haze cranked up the heater, driving smoothly as possible. Least he could do was let T-Bam get a little rest. Every so often, his fingers would tighten around the steering wheel, and he had to remind himself that T-Bam couldn’t have breathed in that much smoke. He was just asleep, not unconscious.
“T,” Haze said gently, shaking T-Bam’s shoulder, “we’re at the hospital.” T-Bam stretched awake, face darkening as he took in the sight around him. He looked down at Haze’s hands, and Haze interlocked their fingers.
“Right here,” Haze reassured him with an attempt at a smile.
“Okay,” T-Bam inhaled, “let’s go.”
-
Gray was seated in a hard, plastic chair, leg bouncing more intensely than Haze had ever seen. He was joined by Grace, who kept fidgeting with her phone, and a man who looked like an older copy of Joy-Ce. Same black hair, same shiny dark eyes-although his father’s were currently swimming with worry.
“What…do we know?” Haze wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer. Gray looked up standing to meet Haze and T-Bam. He pulled them away from Grace and Joy-Ce’s father, into a dark hall with vending machines.
“They took him when we got here, and I haven’t heard anything since-”
“And you?” Haze interrupted, remembering Gray’s coughs. Gray flashed him a crooked smile.
“The very nice EMT-Brezziana-made me promise to come in tomorrow to get checked out. Said I seemed fine, but to come in earlier if anything changed. Gave me a whole list of things to look for. Called me ‘Darlin’’ approximately 87 times on the drive.” It was a terrible attempt at a joke, but the three burst into exhausted, panicky giggles anyway.
“Pull yourselves together,” Gray chastised, wiping his eyes, “we need to get back out there.”
Their steps quickened upon seeing an official-looking white-coated figure approach Joy-Ce’s family. They arrived just as the figure did, and she eyed Joy-Ce’s father with a questioning eye.
“They’re fine. Friends of my son,” he replied gruffly, waving the three over. The figure gave a sharp nod before continuing, adjusting some notes on her clipboard.
“I’m Dr. Nova, a burns specialist here at Golden Trifecta Hospital, and I’ve been working on your son, along with my colleagues…” Haze tried to focus, but wow he was exhausted, and Dr. Nova was throwing out words like ‘eschar’ and ‘perfusion’ like they were all as smart as she was. He wondered if Gray understood more of this. Probably. Focus, Haze!
“We’re going to keep Joy-Ce in a state of reduced brain function, in layman’s terms, a medically induced coma,” Dr. Nova paused for a moment, a reassuring smile spreading across her face. “Sounds scarier than it is. Essentially, we need his brain to chill out for a while to monitor the swelling. We’ll be checking in on him around the clock.”
Yeah. swelling in the brain. Not scary at all!
“When…when should we know? About the swelling?” Joy-Ce’s father asked, voice oddly thick.
Dr. Nova gave him an understanding nod. “Good question. We’re wanting it to drop considerably within the next 48 hours.”
Haze squeezed T-Bam’s hand tightly as Dr. Nova continued.
“He’s stabilized in intensive care. If you’d like, you can come see him? Immediate family only, I’m afraid,” she flashed the three a sympathetic smile. Joy-Ce’s father jumped to his feet, not giving the trio another look.
“Thank you for taking care of him. We’ll call you, okay?” Grace promised before racing to follow her father and Dr. Nova. So Haze, Gray, and T-Bam found themselves stuck in that less than desirable position of leaving the hospital with nothing. No friend, no answers. Part of Haze wanted to stay here, make a diet of the vending machine chocolates and a bed of uncomfortable chairs until they knew more. Not like he had a home to go back to, anyway.
“Haze, you want to stay with me tonight?” Gray offered. Haze nodded gratefully. T-Bam shifted from one foot to another.
“My roommate’s out of town…”
“Come over, T.”
Once they got to Gray's, T-Bam curled up on the nest of blankets he’d found, out within seconds. Haze was glad at least one of them could sleep. Every time he tried, it felt like the room was full of smoke, and he awoke with a start, prepared to bolt.
Haze’s breath came in short gasps as he awoke. It was okay. He was at Gray’s. Nobody was slowly burning to death in his kitchen. He sighed as his breathing evened, pushing his blanket back and quietly slipping out the front door.
Wow, the moon was beautiful tonight. He was so enraptured in its silvery hypnosis he barely heard the door open. Gray sat next to him, draping a thick quilt around his shoulders. No words were exchanged, and no words were needed. Despite the horrible circumstances of the evening, the moment was oddly peaceful-just Gray, Haze, and the stars. He felt his eyelids begin to grow heavy, and finally, sleep overtook him.
-
“I will go open today,” Haze insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Haze-”
“Gray,” Haze mimicked, shaking his head. “You’re going to the doctor. Wouldn’t want to disappoint the nice EMT, would we?”
“I hate when you’re right,” Gray sighed.
“And you,” Haze turned to T-Bam, “cannot carry plates like that.” He gestured to T-Bam’s shaking hands, which hadn’t stopped since he woke up that morning. Leftover stress, maybe. He wasn’t sure.
“Fine,” T-Bam reluctantly agreed.
The shaky energy seemed to radiate through T-Bam’s body as Gray and Haze left. He couldn’t just sit around and watch the clock tick down to 48 hours, down to the call that would determine if he got to have his best friend again or not. So, he decided to go for a walk. Haze’s house was far by foot, but T-Bam didn’t mind-it gave his shakies something to do. He kept up a stream of nervous chatter on the way, flipping between pleas to songs to jokes that Joy-Ce would’ve cackled at if he were there. Occasionally, he’d hear a soft chirp, and he yanked his phone out of his pocket like it was on fire.
Wow, Haze’s house somehow looked worse in the daylight. The firefighters had smashed the front windows to get inside, and glass glinted off the ground like string lights. They’d barricaded the door, and yellow tape screamed at him to stay away. He should. He really should. But he’d come all this way.
T-Bam looked around nervously. Let’s see, no cars in the neighboring driveways, no open curtains. If anyone asked he could be a believable resident. He crossed the tape, jogging up the steps before he lost the nerve.
It was alarmingly easy to get into Haze’s house, really. He just had to stand tiptoe at the edge of the steps, tentatively sticking one sneaker through the broken window. Nobody stopped him, or even gave him a second look.
The entryway looked as perfect as it had last night, down to the last cheerful red berry. The only sign anything was amiss were a few scuff marks on the floor-likely his own. Oh, and the smoke smell. Hard to miss that. Should he cover his mouth? He wasn’t coughing any, and he was pretty sure smoke itself couldn’t linger that long. He reflexively flipped on the light, only to be met with an empty click. Oh. The power was off.
T-Bam crossed the room quickly, grabbing his new skateboard and tucking it under his arm protectively. He should probably get out of here before trying it out-no sense in testing his luck further. Luckily there was a smooth stretch of pavement at his apartment complex, and he should probably take his car back there too.
He plopped the board on the ground before tentatively hopping on…and immediately wiping out, knees scraping the concrete. How did Joy-Ce make this look so easy ? He tried again. And again. And again, until his palms were red and his knees were raw, and he was laughing every time he fell.
“Man, I wish Joy-Ce were here,” he said to no one in particular, lying on his back on the cool concrete. It suddenly occurred to him that they were nearly halfway through the 48 hours, and an odd heaviness settled over his heart.
“Wake up soon, dude,” he whispered, fiddling with one of the skateboard’s wheels. T-Bam was going to stay at his apartment, even though his roommate was gone and being alone made him miss Joy-Ce more, until Gray called and said he was more than welcome to come back.
“I’m not intruding?” T-Bam asked over a carton of takeout he’d picked up for the group. Gray shook his head emphatically.
“Having you two around is what I want most right now.”
The friends ended their night sprawled on Gray’s sofa, watching a terrible Christmas movie that Haze inexplicably loved. They laughed at the cheesy special effects while Haze tried to convince them how good it was. It was all in all, a perfect evening.
Well, almost perfect.
-
BRRRRIIIING!
Gray sat up from a dead sleep, half a mind to run until the sound registered as his phone. He blindly felt around his end table for it, squinting to try and read the contact information. Unknown. Yet he had a feeling he knew who it was.
“Gray speaking.”
“Hi, it’s Grace-sorry to call so late,”
“No!” The word jumped out of his throat, and he took a moment to collect himself. “I appreciate it. Do you have news?” He softly padded down the hallway to the living room where Haze and T-Bam were. Whatever this was, he didn’t want to hear it alone. They were awake, Haze with a ghostly look on his face and T-Bam’s arms around his shoulders.
“Yeah! Dr. Nova said the swelling in Joy-Ce’s brain is going way down and,” Gray could hear the smile in Grace’s voice, “she’s going to reverse the coma! If everything goes well, he could be awake tomorrow.”
“YES!” Gray blushed a little at the shout, but Grace just giggled. “Grace, thank you so much for calling. We can come by tomorrow if you need anything? It is the least we could do for you.
“That’d be great, actually! I’ll text you a list.”
“See you tomorrow, Grace.” Gray hung up with a grin, excitedly relaying the news to Haze and T-Bam.
“THATS OUR BOY!” T-Bam whooped, pumping his fist in the air. Haze sat quietly, a stony look etched onto his face.
“Are you alright, Haze?” Gray laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. Haze jerked it away.
“I’m angry,” Haze whispered in a chilling tone, “I don’t want to be. But I am.”
Gray waited for more, but Haze seemed to be done for now.
“Haze, you have nothing to be angry with yourself for.”
Haze let out a dry, joyless laugh.
“I don’t believe you.”
-
The air was filled with a sharp, slightly sweet scent that pulled Joy-Ce’s eyes open. Well, mostly open. He seemed to have something in one that he couldn’t shake out. He was in a bed that wasn’t his own, draped in an unfamiliar blanket, but he couldn’t make himself care about that right now. His head felt like someone had scooped his brain out and replaced it with cotton candy, lolling against the stiff pillow.
“Grace?” His throat was raw, words tripping out in a hoarse, strained fashion.
“She stepped out to meet some folks in the lobby, Joy-Ce,” a cool, smooth voice replied, looking up from their computer with a smile.
“ Who…” he tried to say ‘ who are you and how do you know me,’ but that was as far as his vocal chords got. The figure still nodded as if he’d said a complete thought.
“I’m Mihaly, and I’ve been your intensive care nurse.”
A familiar pair of footsteps raced down the hall, and Mihaly gave him a knowing smile.
“That sister of yours, no doubt. She’s a good kid. Would make a good medical professional someday.”
They strode to the door, sliding it open with a swoosh.
“Hey Grace. Yes, he’s awake-a bit out of it, but that’s to be expected. He asked for you, actually.”
Mihaly stepped to the side, and Grace tentatively walked in, as if she might scare Joy-Ce off by moving too fast. She plopped down by Joy-Ce’s bed, taking his hand in hers before quickly dropping it.
“Sorry, does that hurt? They said it might.”
It did, but Joy-Ce shook his head anyway, holding Grace’s hand as tight as he could manage.
“Oh, Dr. Nova just got here. I’m going to let her know you’re awake,”
Mihaly reached for a gray switch by the side of his bed. “If you need anything while I’m gone, push this.”
Joy-Ce nodded-with great effort-before hearing another familiar set of footsteps.
“Joy-Ce?”
Joy-Ce broke into a syrupy smile, reaching his hand out towards his father’s voice. His father crossed the room in large steps, kneeling over Joy-Ce and planting a kiss on his forehead. Joy-Ce could see tears shining in his father’s eyes-he hardly ever cried.
“You’re gonna be just fine, bud.”
Joy-Ce drifted back off, holding his father and Grace’s hands in his blistered ones.
“Hey guys! Yeah, he’s awake. Here I’ll ask,”
Grace covered the bottom half of her phone with her hand, looking at Joy-Ce quizzically. As he had for the past two days since waking up, Joy-Ce shook his head. Grace’s brows furrowed, and she frowned a little as she responded.
“He’s kind of out of it, but we’ll talk later. He’s getting transferred to the burn ward soon, so maybe you guys could come visit. Bye Gray!” She hung up with a click. “You have to talk to them eventually.”
“ I… ” Joy-Ce cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the scratchies in his voice. “I will. Just not right now.”
The cotton candy had mostly cleared from his brain, leaving uglier things in its wake. It was a confusing, tangled mess of things. They weren’t in the hospital right now, he was. He was glad for that. Really. He was. Mostly he just felt stuck in the nightmarish moment he got knocked on the floor.
He couldn’t hold them off forever, especially not if he was leaving intensive care. The sliding room door swooshed open, and the silhouettes of Dr. Nova, Mihaly, his father, and two transports darkened his room.
“Ready?” Mihaly asked, offering him an outstretched hand. Joy-Ce nodded, taking Mihaly’s grip with all the bravado he could muster.
Oh this sucked. These could not be the same legs that spent hours on a skateboard. Joy-Ce moved with tiny, wobbling steps, squeezing Mihaly’s hand so hard their knuckles turned white. Once he got to the chair, he plopped down unceremoniously, chest heaving with exertion. Was he sweating?
“You did awesome,” Mihaly grinned as if he hadn’t just broken every bone in their fingers.
As the odd party started their journey down to Joy-Ce’s room in the burn ward, his mind raced the way his legs couldn’t. What if this was it, and he couldn’t skate anymore? The thought made him tear up, but he shook those away.
The wheelchair stopped in front of his new doorway, with Mihaly looking at him expectantly.
“Not again,” Joy-Ce groaned.
“The more you do it, the easier it gets. Here, you can break my other hand this time.”
Still sucked. Still sucked so bad.
-
The general wards definitely had a different feeling to them. The nurses weren’t around so much, and they seemed a lot more relaxed now that most of their patients weren’t on death’s door. Mihaly and Dr. Nova were occasional visitors now, checking up on his progress and talking to the doctors on the burn ward.
By far his favorite new visitor was a nurse technician named Sara. Talking to her felt like talking to a friend, and he found himself opening up more. She’d even pop into his room on her breaks-said it was quieter than the lunch room.
“So, these friends of yours seem pretty persistent,” she remarked after he’d screened yet another call from them. He grimaced.
“I…it’s awful, really.”
“Try me.”
“I’m scared, Sara. I…I don’t know how to be my old self right now. What if they don’t want me anymore?” He whispered the last portion, hugging his arms to his chest. Sara nodded as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.
“I get that-I’ve felt that. It’s pretty common. Like you just went through this awful thing and everyone expects you to be okay when it’s over, but it doesn’t feel over to you.”
“Yes!” Joy-Ce sat up straight, “Exactly.”
“Well,” Sara tapped her fingers against her chin, “what if, you give me a signal if you need a quick exit, and I shoo everyone out of here.”
Relief flooded Joy-Ce at the suggestion.
“You…thank you…”
“It’s what friends do.”
“Breathe, Joy-Ce,” Sara mouthed to him as the time drew near.
“DUDE!” T-Bam shouted, sneakers squeaking against linoleum as he raced into Joy-Ce’s room, tackling him in a hug the way he had the night of the party. Joy-Ce held him tightly, tears beginning to bead at the corners of his eyes.
“Don’t you ever leave me with these two again,” T-Bam mumbled into Joy-Ce’s shoulder, drawing a genuine laugh from him.
“Good to see you awake, Joy-Ce. You look bright eyed as ever,” Gray gave Joy-Ce’s hand a gentle squeeze, reaching around T-Bam to do so.
“You guys…did you get burned?” T-Bam shook his head against Joy-Ce’s shoulder. Gray shrugged.
“A bit, but I got treatment. No concern.”
“Haze?”
Why did Haze practically flinch at Joy-Ce saying his name? He stood stiffly at the edge of the bed, never quite meeting Joy-Ce’s eyes. He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. It was Haze’s kitchen the fire happened in. Haze could very easily just hate him now for wrecking his beautiful home. Then there was that new scar Joy-Ce had, right around his left eye.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
His ears began to ring as the visit continued. He made it another half hour before catching eyes with Sara and doing their signal. She gave him a tiny, imperceptible nod, pasting on her brightest smile.
“You guys are adorable-seriously like watching a bunch of puppies in a field. Unfortunately, I gotta steal Mr. Joy-Ce here for PT, and we won’t make it back until visiting hours are over.”
“I’m down for PT,” T-Bam mumbled, making everyone laugh. Well, almost everyone.
“T,” Gray shook his head playfully. He bid Joy-Ce farewell with another squeeze of the hand and a promise to be back soon.
“Kick PT’s ass!” T-Bam called as he left the room.
Haze was silent.
Once everyone was gone, tears rolled down Joy-Ce’s face. The cries quickly grew into wails, sounds he couldn’t stop for anything. They spread through his body, radiating from his shoulders with violent aftershocks.
“Let’s get out of here,” Sara said suddenly. It was so abrupt it stopped Joy-Ce mid-cry.
“Where?” He croaked.
“PT! Just, the unofficial kind. I know a guy,” she winked.
‘A guy’ turned out to be Joy-Ce’s new physical therapist, regarding the duo with a look of amusement on his face as Sara told him her plan.
“Wander, pleeeease? Just this once, let us into the PT Garden?”
“Are you even on the clock, Sara?”
“No, but you are!”
“How do you figure that?”
“I don’t know man, you always are!”
Joy-Ce found himself smiling a little as he listened to their banter. Wander sighed, stepping outside his office and grabbing a rack of keys.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” He turned to both of them, playfully wagging his finger, “I am taking my patient out for PT. You’re joining us in case he needs extra help. Got it?” He tried to give them a stern look that gave way to the biggest smile Joy-Ce had ever seen.
“You are truly the best friend a girl could have.”
“And you’re truly going to get me fired one of these days.”
“Introduce yourself to your patient and stop whining!”
“Hello, I’m Wander. Charmed,” he bowed with a flourish, “you are?” Joy-Ce tried to imitate his bow from the chair.
“Joy-Ce.”
“You bowed! I like you.”
The walk to the PT Garden was a short one, with Sara and Wander effortlessly looping Joy-Ce into topics of conversation. By the time the flowers came into view, he was fully smiling.
“I love the garden,” Sara sighed as she offered Joy-Ce a hand. It really was beautiful, he had to admit. Granted, not much was in bloom, but the spirit was there. It was a split space, with half housing various plants and the other half an outdoor jungle gym. Sunset bathed the space in a rosy glow, and the scent was fresh and earthy. Wander sank down next to him, arranging a few papers on a clipboard.
“We don’t officially start until tomorrow-but do you want to do a little tonight? You’re free to say no-“
“Yes.”
The quicker he started this, the quicker it could end.
“Awesome!”
Wander sounded like Joy-Ce had just agreed to see his favorite movie. He moved closer to Joy-Ce, hands outstretched.
“Can I touch you, just to check how the lungs are doing? It’d be a hand here and here,” he pointed.
Joy-Ce blinked a few times.
“What’s your plan if I say no?”
“We do stuff where I don’t touch you and I check in later,” Wander replied with a shrug. Huh. He was so sincere, Joy-Ce couldn’t help but believe him.
“You can. Thanks though, for asking.”
Man his hands were warm. Actually, his whole being gave off warmth-he had one of the brightest smiles Joy-Ce had ever seen.
Just. Like. Haze.
Joy-Ce found himself simultaneously drawn to Wander and annoyed by this realization. These exercises sure weren’t helping-they were basic, yet his lungs felt like they were on fire.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
“Joy-Ce,” Wander stopped suddenly, voice soft.
“What?!” Joy-Ce snapped, instantly wincing. “I-I’m sorry-“
Wander waved him off before continuing.
“I think we need to be done tonight. You seem angry. I don’t want this to be a negative thing for you,” his look of compassion only angered Joy-Ce further.
“Wonder why I’d be mad,” Joy-Ce muttered bitterly, wrenching out of Wander’s grasp. The slight exertion made him breathe heavier, and he sat with a scowl.
“You can be mad. This is a really hard thing to try and recover from-“
“Like you’d get it.”
“Joy-Ce.”
Something in his voice made Joy-Ce freeze. Wander brought a finger to his right cheek-why-Oh. He had a scar there.
The scar was larger than Joy-Ce’s, and almost diamond-shaped. It started on his cheekbone and extended up past his eyebrow.
Joy-Ce reached up and touched his own scar, shame burning on his cheeks.
“I’m sorry. That was a jerk thing to say.”
“Thank you,” Wander’s sunshine grin returned, “I look forward to tomorrow.”
Joy-Ce’s heart felt just a bit lighter.
Wander greeted Joy-Ce with a bright smile and a wave, eagerly patting the spot next to him on the blue gym mat he’d laid out. Conversations bounced off the walls as basketballs ricocheted off backboards. Fluorescents buzzed overhead, washing the room in a harsh, silver glow.
“Good to see you! Ready to start?” Joy-Ce, nodded, jaw set.
Wander seemed to notice, eyes softening a little.
“We’ll go at your pace, okay? You got this.”
They were halfway through some yoga pose with a name Joy-Ce couldn’t remember-something with a snake, maybe-when another employee approached them. Wander looked up, then back at Joy-Ce with an apologetic expression.
“What can I do for you, Del?”
“Someone called and left you a message.”
Wander sighed. “I’ll just be a second, Joy-Ce.” He rose from his pose in a fluid motion, following Del across the room.
Joy-Ce flopped out of his yoga pose, catching his breath as he stared at the ceiling. When Wander returned, his face was considerably darker.
“Woah,” Joy-Ce scrambled upward, “you okay, man?”
“I’ve been better, but I’m alright,” Wander’s movements were rigid, tension wafting from him.
“Well whoever they are, they suck,” Joy-Ce replied emphatically.
“I couldn’t agree more,”
Wander had a ghost of a smile.
Sara popped into his room after PT, wielding two plastic cups of chocolate pudding. The two ate in comfortable silence, Joy-Ce dragging his spoon across the side of the container.
“Sara,” Joy-Ce began, “Can I ask you something about Wander?”
“Shoot,” Sara didn’t look up from her pudding.
“He got a message today during our session, and he was…really angry after he came back. Is he…okay?”
“Not this again,” Sara frowned. “Look, I can’t tell you everything, but he’s okay. He will be. Your friend trouble? It’s kind of like that. But, you both will be fine.”
Joy-Ce’s mouth tightened. Considering his friend trouble broke his heart every time he thought about it, he had his doubts.
His friends came back the day before Christmas, and it really almost felt normal with Gray and T-Bam. They brought candies, stories from the diner, and every card game under the sun. T-Bam practically glued himself to Joy-Ce’s side, while Gray took his spot in the chair next to Joy-Ce’s bed.
“Wait, so tell me what Ruben spilled on that guy?”
“Dude, so he was in my section-total prick from the start, you know the type. Orders spaghetti-”
“Oh no,” Joy-Ce interrupted with a smile
“Oh yes. Really, we were gonna let him off easy, but then he took cracks at Epsy, and nobody takes cracks at Epsy. Soooo,” T-Bam trailed off with a grin, “Ruben may have accidentally slipped and dumped spaghetti all over his white button down.” They broke out into a fit of laughter.
“Man, wish I could have seen that.”
“Oh it was a sight. Haze had to sweet talk him for a good twenty minutes, didn’t you, Haze?”
Haze nodded slightly, eyes on the floor.
Ouch.
In that moment, Joy-Ce remembered where he was with every cell in his body.
He caught eyes with Sara, doing the signal that had become routine at this point. She made up some excuse about visiting hours ending, and Haze left without a word.
Joy-Ce somehow managed to not cry until they left.
“Unofficial PT?” Sara asked softly. It was the next part in their well-rehearsed dance. Joy-Ce nodded, wiping tears with his sleeve.
Up in the garden, his new friends sat on either side of him, murmuring words of comfort.
“Joy-Ce,” Wander nudged him gently.
“Hm?”
“Whoever they are, they suck,” Wander cracked.
Joy-Ce gave him a watery smile.
“Will I be okay without them?”
It wasn’t something Wander could answer, but he asked it anyway.
“I was. You will be too.”
Sara took him back to his room later than usual, and he fell asleep almost immediately.
It was a restless affair, peppered with teary-eyed nightmares and beeps that shocked him awake. He could’ve sworn Sara slipped into his room sometime in the night, fiddling wiith something on his bedside table. Probably just a dream though-she’d gone home hours ago.
When Joy-Ce awoke on Christmas morning, a tiny, green tree was propped on his end table. Its dark, feathery branches waved slightly at him, making him smile. The tree was decorated to the nines, festooned with shimmering red and white balls and twinkling pink lights. Something about it felt oddly familiar, like a gift from an old friend.
“Joy-Ce! Merry Christmas,” Sara bounced into his room, clutching a hospital-branded plastic bag. She reached within, revealing a chocolate pudding cup and plastic spoon that she tossed on Joy-Ce’s bed.
“Merry Christmas Sara,” Joy-Ce grinned, shoveling pudding in his mouth, “a Christmas tree and a pudding cup? You spoil me.”
“It’s what friends are for,” Sara bowed, “but, the Christmas tree wasn’t mine. I just smuggled it in.”
“Then…” Joy-Ce trailed off.
“You know who, Joy-Ce.”
He took a closer look at the tree, squinting slightly.
Oh.
Oh.
Of course. It was too perfect not to be. Joy-Ce’s vision got swimmy, lights morphing into tiny, colorful blobs. Maybe…maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe he wouldn’t have to spend the next two years convincing himself he was better off. Joy-Ce reached for his phone with a shaky hand, punching in a familiar string of numbers. He’d typed these numbers so many times.
He really, really didn’t want this to be the last.
Haze, you got a second? I wanna talk to you, in person if that’s cool.
The text back was almost immediate.
omw
It seemed simultaneously too soon and an eternity before Haze arrived. He stood at the edge of Joy-Ce’s bed, fiddling with his jacket. He didn’t look Joy-Ce in the eyes, instead focusing intensely on some splotch on the wall.
“Thank you for the tree,” Joy-Ce started softly, “it’s beautiful.”
“Least I could do,” Haze chuckled, but it was a sandpaper sound, nothing like the warmth it usually held. Joy-Ce took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around himself.
“Do you hate me now?”
It’s barely a whisper, but it stops Haze in his tracks. He slowly met Joy-Ce’s eyes, and the sight broke Joy-Ce’s heart. The shadows there were deep and purple, but he barely noticed those. It was the look trapped in his friend’s eyes. Like he was stuck in some kind of nightmare.
“I could never,” Haze is just as quiet, lip beginning to tremble. “Do you…”
“Not even a little.”
“You could have died, and you’re telling me what?” Haze got louder, angry tears beginning to fall. “You don’t blame me?! You should. ”
“Haze, I wasn’t angry with you ever. I was just scared, I guess…that you wouldn’t want me around anymore.”
Joy-Ce got quiet, remembering his conversation with Wander.
“The only way you’re going to hurt me- really hurt me-is by disappearing. I just want my friends, okay? That’s you.” Joy-Ce patted the spot next to him on the bed.
Haze took a few tentative steps over, sinking down onto the edge of Joy-Ce’s bed. Yeah, this wouldn’t do. Joy-Ce pulled him into a much-needed embrace, fingers digging into the fabric of Haze’s sweater. Haze relaxed into the touch, burying his head in Joy-Ce’s shoulder.
“I don’t know if I can be happy the way I was,” Haze admitted, wiping his eyes, “at least not for a while.” Joy-Ce chuckled a little.
“Me neither. Having you is worth it, though.”
Sara popped her head into Joy-Ce’s room, ending the moment.
“You’ve just got a whole parade out here!”
“Send em in, Sara,” Joy-Ce grinned. Haze began to slide off the bed, but Joy-Ce put a hand over his, giving him a pleading look.
-
The hospital room was warm, cozy, and crowded. His father, Grace, T-Bam and Gray filed in, draping themselves over any available surface. Grace reached into a large, red gift bag, pulling out swaths of garland and tossing them on Joy-Ce’s bed.
“I want these walls pretty, ” she turned to her father, T-Bam and Gray with a stern expression. “Hang these ornaments too,” she ordered, pulling out a plastic tub of mismatched ornaments.
“No way!” Joy-Ce exclaimed, sitting up to get a closer look, “are those the little angels we made as kids?”
“It’s not Christmas without them, duh,” Grace replied, rolling her eyes playfully. She caught a glimpse of T-Bam and Gray hanging a garland, and she raced over.
“There’s a process!” She admonished in mock horror.
“Haze, help me up,” Joy-Ce held out his hand.
“What do I do?”
“Just hold my hand, make sure I don’t trip.”
Haze jumped to his feet, wrapping his fingers tightly around Joy-Ce’s. Maybe Joy-Ce was imagining it, but his legs felt a little less shaky today. His father was at his side in a moment, offering a hand that Joy-Ce gratefully accepted.
“Merry Christmas, Dad.”
“Merry Christmas, Joy-Ce,” his father’s eyes were shimmering again as he looked between Joy-Ce and Grace. Grace skipped over to the pair, enveloping her dad and brother in a quick hug before draping a garland around Joy-Ce’s neck.
“Can you get this one?”
The room looked like a holiday store had thrown up on it when the group was done. Every wall was covered in forest green garlands, too-perfect ornaments and handmade ones bumping against each other on their plastic branches. Gifts were spilling out from under Haze’s tree on the bedside table, piled on the speckled floor around its legs. There were so many rainbow string lights that they didn’t even need the fluorescents on. Grace had even made elaborate paper snowflakes, which were hanging from the ceiling.
“Oh, T-Bam, Gray, Haze, we got these for you!” Grace exclaimed, scurrying through the present pile for three neatly wrapped packages.
“You didn’t have to,” Gray started, but Grace shook her head emphatically.
“We wanted to,” her voice got serious, no doubt remembering the reason they were all here, “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
She crossed the room to the bed, where Haze and T-Bam were perched on either side of Joy-Ce, and Gray sat in the chair next to. The three unwrapped their packages, oohing as they lifted out thin, golden chains. On the end of the chain dangled a small circle of copper. Grace and Joy-Ce knew that necklace well-they had identical ones at home.
“I got Grace and Joy-Ce these a while ago,” their father explained with a nod. His friends seemed to read between the lines of the statement. You’re his family, you’re my family now too.
“It’s beautiful,” Haze breathed, rubbing the copper between his fingers.
“Thank you so much,” Gray said emphatically.
T-Bam slipped the chain on with a watery grin.
Grace continued to pass gifts out with the efficiency of a surgeon, before getting down to the last package-a familiar one with squished pink paper.
“Found this in your room,” she passed it to Joy-Ce with a shrug. This gift wasn’t to Joy-Ce at all: actually, it was from Joy-Ce. He turned it over in his hands with a gulp.
“This is for you. From me,” he shoved it in Haze’s hands unceremoniously. Haze gave Joy-Ce a quizzical look before gently unwrapping the package.
“You painted me something?!” Haze held the canvas in trembling hands, an expression of awe on his face, as if he were looking at some treasure. It wasn’t that impressive, really-just a sunflower against a bright blue sky, petals done in shades of pink from pastel to fuschia.
“It’s not that great, but-” Haze cut him off with a tight hug.
“Shut up. I love it so much. I love you so much.”
This time, he didn’t wonder if Haze was just saying it to make him happy. He really had the best friends in the world didn’t he? The door clicked open, pulling him from his thoughts. His father stood, balancing a tray of styrofoam cups in his hands.
“Thought you might want some hot chocolate,” he passed a glass to Joy-Ce with a smile. It was more lukewarm chocolate-Joy-Ce couldn’t drink anything too hot, but it warmed him anyway.
It was truly a perfect evening.