Chương 25: A Lovely Christmas Eve

Red party cups and colorful confetti party hats littered the sidewalk as Leander dropped to one knee, the punch knocking the air clean out of his lungs. Half the eggs in the carton were cracked, spilling slimy yellow into the snow. Luckily, he hadn't eaten much before the errand, just some chips and soda hours ago. If he had eaten within the last thirty minutes, it would have all come back up. Through his blurred vision, he saw Rosie's face, her eyes wide with worry, her lips moving urgently.

He gasped and swayed as he struggled uselessly to get back on his feet. Rosie was saying something, but the ringing in his ear made it impossible to catch a single word. Then he saw an arm swinging at her. The bald guy grabbed Rosie by the wrist and yanked her toward him with a twisted grin. There was something in his eyes, something sick and dangerous, that made Leander's blood run hot. The bastard pulled her even closer by wrapping his forearm around her neck and whispered something in her ear.

Rosie grunted and shouted as the ringing in Leander's ears finally dulled enough for him to hear her words.

"Take your hands off me, you creep!" she spat, trying to claw at his plump, doughy arm, but her nails only scraped uselessly against his leather jacket. Leander's world wobbled as he stood.

"L-let her go," the threat came out as a weak wheeze.

"You jerk!" The duo of ugly thugs turned toward him. The smoker let out a short, ugly laugh.

"Or what? You gonna rescue her, Q-tip?" He jabbed a lanky finger hard into Leander's shoulder.

"Not with those noodle arms."

"Yeah," the bald one sneered.

"Can barely stand straight after a single punch." Then he released Rosie and locked eyes with Leander.

"You had your fun," he said to his friend, shoving him aside.

"My turn now." He let out a high-pitch, twisted giggle that sounded completely wrong coming from him.

"Leander, run!" Rosie yelled.

"You're no match for them! I'll be fine," she insisted.

"Rosie," he grunted.

"You're underestimating me. These guys are nothing. I've got this." They truly weren't that scary, not compared to the orphanage's giant, but no matter how brave he tried to sound compared to them, he knew exactly where he stood. The bald one lunged, his doughy fist cocked back, ready to crush Leander's face. Instinctively, he raised both arms, shielding his head, eyes squeezed shut, bracing for impact, but it never came.

Instead, a heavy thump echoed, followed by a sharp crack, like a wooden bat slamming into a wall. He opened his eyes and patted himself, surprised he hadn't been punched, not that he was complaining. Before him lay the bald guy, crumpled against the brick wall; the bald man with the face of an ugly baby was out cold. What happened? Unless he had secretly awakened some superpower, someone else had stepped in. His confusion lasted only a second before a massive figure stepped into view beside him.

A long, dramatic shadow cast by the streetlight stretched across the stranger's frame.

"Of course they're nothing, compared to me," the figure declared, his voice deep, its familiarity bringing no comfort to Leander.

"Dante?" Leander muttered in disbelief.

"Dante!" Rosie beamed.

"Thank God you're here."

"Look what you did to him," the smoker snapped, glaring at Dante.

"You're going to pay for this, fatass." Oh, it's over for him now. If there was one thing that could snap Dante, it was being called fat or any variation of the word. The skinny smoker guy pulled a pocket knife from his rear pocket and, before lunging at Dante, screamed a strange war cry that sounded something like, "Ulululululu!"

"Be careful!" Rosie cried out, reaching desperately for the attacker's jacket.

"I'm going to cut that big belly open, you motherfu—" Dante didn't flinch. With a quick pivot, he caught the man's wrist and twisted hard, the knife clattering to the ground.

"You're gonna need a gun if you want to stop me," the giant declared calmly.

"Aghh!" the smoker wailed, dropping to one knee and desperately trying to pry Dante's iron grip off his wrist.

"And for the record," Dante said, curling his right hand into a fist, "this isn't a big belly." He slammed a heavy punch straight into the smoker's jaw, knocking him out cold.

"There's muscle under here," he added, slapping his stomach grandly.

"Somewhere…" All Leander could do was stare, jaw hanging open, completely stunned by how easily Dante had disposed of the two thugs.

"Okay, that was sort of impressive," he said, scratching his cheek.

"I had it under control, though." Dante gave him a look.

"Yeah, I could tell by the way you took that punch without so much as flinching." A muscle twitched in Leander's cheek. He didn't appreciate the sarcasm, but the guy had just saved him, so he kept his mouth shut.

"You idiots," Rosie said, snapping her scarf to shake off the snow.

"One of you tries to fight with two guys bigger than him, and the other nearly gets stabbed."

"You're welcome," Dante said with a click of his tongue.

"You're welcome?!" Rosie sighed, exasperated.

"You know what, you're right… Thank you, but you have to be more careful. He could've stabbed you." Then she turned to Leander and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Pretty sure eating's gonna hurt tomorrow." He let out a weak laugh.

"Or just moving at all."

"What? It doesn't hurt now?" Dante gave him a light jab to his stomach. He lurched forward.

"It does! It does hurt. Knock it off." He raised a hand to push Dante away.

"Seriously, though… why are you even here?" The behemoth shrugged.

"I was just… heading back to the orphanage."

"Yeah, but where were you coming from?" Rosie asked, curious, wrapping her scarf around her neck. Dante murmured some nonsense under his breath.

"What?" Leander frowned. Another mumble, still too quiet for him to understand.

"Come on, speak up," snapped Rosie.

"I was coming back from a job interview," Dante said, raising his voice slightly.

"Happy?"

"A job interview!?" both Leander and Rosie exclaimed in unison.

"Wait, you? Getting a job?" Leander raised a brow.

"Since when? And why?"

"That's none of your business," the behemoth growled, shooting him a glare.

"Alright, no need to get hasty. Just didn't picture you as the part-time type." He wouldn't push his luck with Dante. He was still trying to process that the guy had stepped in for him at all. If someone had told him ten minutes ago this would happen, he would've laughed in their face. Was it because of Rosie? Because she'd been there with him? If I'd been alone, would he have walked away? Just watched? Or worse, joined in himself? A chill ran through him at the thought. His eyes found Rosie.

She was probably the reason he wasn't in an ambulance right now. She caught him staring, blinked, and furrowed her brows in confusion, but shrugged and just turned to Dante.

"So, Dante." She tilted her head, curling a strand of her ponytail around her finger, slow and deliberate.

"Why are you trying to get a job, hmm?" Her hips shifted slightly as she spoke. Leander recognized the act immediately—Rosie only turned on the charm when she wanted something. But even knowing it was fake, it still worked. Dante froze. His eyes flicked to the sky as if searching for divine rescue. His chubby cheeks reddened as if he'd been in the sun too long.

"I-I just…" he took a deep breath.

"I started going to therapy, okay?" he admitted.

"Therapy?!" Leander and Rosie said in unison for the second time that day.

"Yes, for the anger issues," he muttered, scratching his forehead.

"My therapist said that getting a job would add more structure to my days, give me a sense of purpose, and keep my mind engaged." So his therapist advised him, a person with anger issues, to get a job around people? Either a brave idea… or a very stupid one.

"Also," Dante continued.

"I read online that girls don't like broke or angry guys, so I'm trying the whole one bird, two stones thing."

"One stone, two birds, you mean?" Leander corrected.

"What!?" Dante barked.

"Nothing."

"I shouldn't have said anything," Dante sighed, dragging a hand down his face, clearly regretting every word.

"What? Why wouldn't you?" Leander asked.

"You're doing the right thing."

"Shut it, Leander," Dante blurted, his voice laced with anger. Leander instinctively stepped back and lifted his arms in surrender, but before the moment could sour, Rosie stepped in, her tone warm and sincere.

"Leander is right. You're doing the right thing," Rosie told him, patting him on the shoulder, a genuine smile on her face.

"Thanks, Rosie, I… I'm trying my hardest," he agreed, an awkward laugh slipping out. So when she says it, she gets a thank you… but when I say it, I get told to shut up. He rolled his eyes. Deep down, he knew why Dante was always so nice to Rosie. In the end, didn't every guy have a thing for her? I guess I'm just the same. One of the thugs groaned on the ground, breaking the moment. The three of them looked down in surprise. They'd completely forgotten about the unconscious idiots.

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"Let's get out of here before someone calls the cops, and this turns into a whole thing," Rosie urged. They quickly gathered their scattered bags—miraculously, the beer was still intact—shoved everything back together, and headed back toward the orphanage, Christmas Eve somehow still salvageable. ❧❧ ⫷ ❁ ⫸ ❧❧ Leander looked around and was taken aback by the Christmas spirit bubbling up all around him. Fairy Christmas lights adorned the walls, their glow softening the scuffed surfaces.

He bobbed his head to the holiday jingles that echoed in the background, and the high, unguarded laughter of kids drifted from the common room. He inhaled and took a minute to enjoy the beautiful atmosphere, then winced. It still hurt where he'd been punched, but even the pain couldn't deter him from how glad he was for this moment.

"Just look at this," chimed a warm, motherly voice in his right ear.

"Worth every headache, don't you think?" Marie had walked next to him, her eyes glowing with pride, more elated than Leander had seen her in ages.

"Absolutely," he agreed.

"We all deserve to enjoy the holiday." Then, with a grin, he added, "Especially you, considering all the headaches we give you." Marie let out an affectionate chuckle.

"You are all worth every headache," she said, patting his back.

"I'm just glad nothing too serious happened." He winced.

"So… I guess you heard what happened?"

"Well, Rosie doesn't do well under pressure, or under my pressure at least," Marie said proudly with a smirk. Leave it to Marie to be the only person who wouldn't fall for Rosie's charms. She never fell for anyone's charms. She just always knew.

"Thank goodness Dante showed up when he did," she said softly. Leander nodded, then turned his attention to the rest of the room. Dante was awkwardly playing with some of the younger kids, trying to build a Lego tower, but he was smiling through the struggle. It was odd to see this facet of the bully. He didn't know how to feel about it, or how to act around it. Dante glanced over and gave him a slight nod. Leander nodded back and smiled a little.

"Is he actually changing?" he said quietly.

"People can surprise you," Marie said.

"All it takes is a reason to be better."

"Hey, you holding up okay?" Dante said, suddenly materializing next to him as if he were a speedster, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Stomach still hurting?"

"Only when I laugh, breathe, or move," Leander responded, sarcastic but truthful at the same time.

"Otherwise? Fantastic."

"Glad to see your sarcasm's still intact," Dante snorted.

"Aww, my goodness, Christmas miracles do exist," Marie said cheerfully.

"Never thought I'd see the day you two had a conversation without throwing punches." She pulled them both into a warm hug. Leander shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond, and felt Dante stiffen as well.

"Please try not to fight anymore; I've got enough gray hairs already." When she let go, Leander smoothed the wrinkles on his shirt with his palm. Then he narrowed his eyes, scanning the room. Something felt off, or rather… someone was missing.

"Have either of you seen Rosie?" he asked. Dante shook his head once.

"She was helping me with the snacks earlier," Marie said.

"Maybe she's still in the kitchen."

"Thanks. I'll see if she needs help." Leander walked toward the kitchen, leaving the festive mood behind him for a moment. Rosie's best friend, Lily, was there, trying to sneak a beer from the fridge, but Rosie was nowhere to be found in the kitchen. He needed to find her, but first he had to deal with the underage drinker.

"Hey, you're too young for that," he warned, arms crossed.

"So are you," she retorted.

"Do you see me drinking?" He didn't wait for her answer and snatched the beer bottle from her hand.

"Leave, unless you want me to tell Marie." She stuck her tongue out.

"That's why Rosie doesn't look your way! You don't know how to have a good time."

"Your definition of good time is not the same as mine." She left, but not before flipping him off. Leander sighed and glanced through the fogged glass window overlooking the backyard. Then he saw her. Rosie was sitting alone on the bench, her expression distant as she gazed at the sky. He left after hiding the beer behind some ice bags inside the freezer. However, he grabbed two bottles on his way out. Maybe beer wasn't the best idea in this cold weather, but he shrugged off the thought and headed outside anyway.

Once there, he calmly approached Rosie, trying not to disturb her peace.

"Hey, mind if I join you?" he asked softly, setting a beer on the bench next to her thigh. She looked at the bottle with doubt.

"Isn't it a bit too cold for a beer?"

"We can always drink it inside," he said.

"But we'll have to hide from Marie, though."

"You talk like you do this all the time," she paused, contemplating.

"Do you?"

"No, I actually never drank before." Then, with a bit of hesitation, he took the tiniest sip and shuddered in disgust.

"How can people drink this? It's so sour and disgusting." Rosie chuckled, her hand blocking her pearly whites.

"Why are you here alone?" he asked.

"Anything bothering you?" She took a moment to answer, her eyes downcast as if gauging her words.

"Just thinking, that's all."

"There are better places to think than out here in the cold." She nudged him and sighed.

"I just love being in the orphanage, Leander," she said.

"I know this place isn't perfect, but it's home. Our home." She looked up at the sky, then at him, her lips pursed as though she were weighing something.

"I've been giving it some thought… maybe someday, when I'm older, I'd like to be like Marie. A foster mom. Open an orphanage and take care of kids the same way she has taken care of us." His brows arched. He knew Rosie cared about this place, about the kids, but staying here as an adult? Actually working here like Marie? He hadn't seen that coming, but he knew he had to encourage her. What kind of friend would he be if he didn't?

"You can do it," he said.

"Be a foster mom just like Marie."

"You think so?" Rosie said, her face beaming.

"Of course, you've been doing it for a while. You already have the experience, and most importantly, you have the demanding tone down." He smiled, trying to cheer her up.

"Stop," she said warmly, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I appreciate you always being there for me, Leander." Then, as if meaning to give him a heart attack, she rested her head on his shoulder, and Leander nearly jumped. He looked at her without moving his head or breathing. What the heck is going on?! He thought as his mind reeled.

"You know…" he said quietly, forcing his voice to cooperate.

"I kind of wish I could stay here just a bit longer, too." He swallowed.

"I still have no idea what I'll be doing after I graduate yet, so it's all a bit overwhelming."

"Well, you're a bright one. I know you'll be fine. Just promise me you'll visit once in a while, please."

"I promise I'll visit so much you'd think I never left. Maybe that way I won't have to pay for rent," Leander said dryly, and she chuckled at that. A couple of minutes passed, and Rosie was still resting her head on his shoulder. She hadn't said a word for a while, and the silence felt like a sea in which he was drowning.

"So…" he started slowly, but before he could say anything more, she grabbed his right wrist, rummaged through her pocket with her other hand, and pulled out something shiny. It was a black bracelet with gold streaks, and she slipped it gently onto his wrist.

"What's this?" he asked, confused.

"It's black-finish gold, your Christmas gift."

"W-what? A gift? You didn't have to." She held his hand and traced a finger along his palm, her head still on his shoulder. He shivered as she did that, every nerve in his body zapping him with awareness.

"I think it looks good on you," she whispered. He admired its sleek design. To him, it looked like something a rich kid would wear.

"This must've cost you a fortune, Rosie. I can't accept this."

"Yes, you can and you will." She squeezed his hand tightly with both of hers.

"It's worth like five hundred dollars." Leander let out a weird gasping shriek. She burst out laughing.

"Relax. I didn't pay that. I found it at a garage sale for five bucks. The guy selling it had no idea what he had."

"You could've sold it and made a bunch of money. Why give it to me?"

"Silly," she said softly, "because you're special to me." She paused, her eyes drifting up to meet his.

"You always have been." After hearing that, he was stunned. He didn't know what to do or say. Did she mean anything by it? He didn't even get her a gift. She kept holding his hand, and for a second, he let himself bask in her warmth. But then reality crept back in. Had she given Dante a gift as well? She had smiled at him when he'd saved them, as if he'd done something heroic. Which, fine, he had, but Leander was the one who'd taken a punch for her. He should say something. Tell her how that sounded to him.

But what if she just saw him as the backup? The safe friend who'd always be there while she dated guys like her ex. No, Rosie isn't that type of girl.

"Leander?" Rosie's voice pulled him back. She was looking at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"You okay? You got quiet."

"I'm fine." He shook his head.

"Huh, remember when you told Dante you might spend Christmas with him?" He forced an awkward laugh.

"When exactly are you ditching me? Should I set a timer or…?" He regretted the words the second they left his mouth. She pulled back, her face darkening.

"Why would you ruin the moment like that?"

"Wait, what?"

"This is what you always do," she said sternly, giving him a sideways glare, arms crossed.

"The second things get a bit serious, you find a way to deflect, whether it's a joke or sarcasm, anything to avoid what scares you. You never stand up for yourself. You never say what you actually feel." Rosie hesitated for a moment after calling him out so directly, then color flooded her cheeks.

"And maybe that's why… you don't have the girl you like." Leander was shocked, and he opened his mouth to deflect with a dry remark, a laugh. But nothing came out as he realized he was about to do exactly what she had just called him out for. Rosie took a deep breath.

"If you keep hiding behind all your jokes, people will never know whether they can be real with you or not," she pointed out.

"Stop being so scared, Leander." Avoiding her gaze, he stepped back. She was right. All the times he looked the other way when he saw something that wasn't right, the many times he never stood up to Dante, and how he never told her how he felt because he was afraid of being rejected. He always avoided serious conversations; maybe it was a defense mechanism to avoid getting hurt or getting involved. But she was right here, telling him to stop being scared.

"You're right," he finally said, his voice low.

"I'm a coward, always have been, and I do hide behind jokes and dry sarcasm."

"No, you're not a coward. You just stood up to two bigger guys an hour ago to protect me," she grabbed his hand and looked him in the eyes.

"But you do put up walls with people, like you're afraid they'll get to know the real you."

"It's just… what if they don't like the real me?"

"So what? To hell with them. The real you is great." Rosie's smile was soft, understanding.

"Rejection hurts, and getting hurt sucks. But that pain is part of life, and without it, we can't grow. I'll always be here to help you, just as you always helped me. I'm sure that if you were a tiny bit more open, you'd finally be able to get a girlfriend," she said, her tone playful.

"And if they dare break your heart, I'll be here to support you and badmouth them behind their backs."

"No!" Leander blurted, almost too quickly. Rosie blinked once.

"—No?" For a moment, he wished he hadn't said that out loud. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeper than ever before. His hand moved to his jeans pocket, fingers brushing the folded paper there. The poem. One of many he'd written but never had the guts to give her.

"I, uh…" He held it out to her.

"I wrote this. For you. Merry Christmas, I guess." She gave him a confused look and unfolded the paper.

"Leander, this is—""Don't read it yet," he urged.

"I know what the poem says, but I need to say it out loud first." Oh man… I feel like I'm about to shit my pants. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He gulped hard and dry. Ahh! Screw it.

"I like you, Rosie." The confession burst out. There was no coming back now.

"I have for years. I think about you more than I ever want to admit. And I-I just didn't have the guts to say it until now. But I'm done hiding." Rosie stared, her mouth open, looking like she'd just seen an alien. Leander braced himself. He hadn't expected a yes, but the silence was somehow worse. His hands trembled. Great. Just great. What the hell was I thinking? She probably thinks I'm an idiot. But then, slowly, a smile curved her lips.

"Now this… I like," she said, her voice honeyed and her eyes gleaming. He put a hand to his chest. His heart pounded so hard he could feel it almost trying to break through his ribcage.

"Is that a yes, or a 'you're brave, but… still not my type'?"

"I didn't think you'd confess. I was just trying to push you a little, but I'm glad you did," Rosie said, stepping closer.

"I've liked you too. For a while now." She likes me?! It took a moment for the words to sink in. She actually likes me!

"Wow…" he breathed.

"Best Christmas present ever. You were right. About being honest for once."

"Of course I was right," Rosie said, her glossy lips gleaming under the backyard light.

"So… how do we go from here?" Leander asked.

"Umm," she tapped her bottom lip.

"I don't know. We could go on a date, we could buy matching sweaters, or… we could do this." Rosie cupped his cheeks, pulled his head closer to hers, and gently sealed her lips to his. Her lips were warm, gentle, sweet as caramel, tender as a muffin, everything a first kiss should be. There was no air in his lungs. No thought in his mind. He was utterly lost in the moment. Everything that had gone wrong today, forgotten. The kiss had erased it all.

His first kiss, with the girl he'd loved for so long, felt like the planets had aligned just for this moment to happen. They pulled apart, both catching their breath, looking into each other's eyes and smiling awkwardly. He had never seen her face so red, so pretty. She was gorgeous, and she liked him. Rosie fidgeted with her fingers, unable to hide her nerves.

"That was… nice," she said.

"I think so too… girlfriend." He went ahead and said it. He didn't care if it sounded awkward or weird. He felt invincible right now.

"Oh, is that what we are now?" She asked, smiling broadly.

"I mean, only if you want?" She nodded, and that nod felt better than having any superpower. He hugged her, the scent of her shampoo and perfume doing what it always did, driving him crazy. This was it, what he had wanted for so long. Everything was so perfect. Until—"I knew it!" an angry voice came from beyond the fence.

"You were cheating on me, you whore!" Rosie's face turned white, and her body trembled. A guy vaulted over the fence with one hand, his veins bulging at his temples and his nose flaring. A cold black object gleamed under the Christmas lights in one of his hands. A gun. Breath caught in Leander's throat. He closed his eyes and opened them. Damn it. I knew things were going too well. Of course, something had to happen to balance things out.

"No, not you. Why are you here?!" Rosie asked, shuddering in fear.

"Tyler." It was her ex. And he wasn't here to talk.