It was the day before Christmas. My Holiday playlist filled my bedroom with upbeat tunes, both magical and mundane. Currently, the soothing sounds of Lindsey Stirling’s violin comforted me as she talentedly played ‘Carol of the Bells’. The aroma of candy canes wafted through the air from a scented candle. But where was I?

I was seated on the floor, surrounded by presents, gift bags, festive wrapping paper, tape, scissors and all the other necessary material for readying gifts. I was dreading wrapping Noah’s. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t sure if I should wrap it. Would I even be giving him? As I hummed along to Lindsey’s violin, I barely heard the soft knock on my door. “Come in!” I called, as I wrestled a friend’s enormous gift into a bag. Wrapping was not my strong suit, so I mainly depended on using bags solely. It was only a select few that I chose to wrap.

“Need some help?”

My heart skipped a beat in shock and I turned my neck so fast to stare at Noah that I crinked it. I ignored the brief, short stab of pain there. For a moment, I felt overjoyed and relief to see him standing there. But then I was reminded of what played out a few days ago. “Who let you in?”

Noah looked perplexed. “Your sister? She’s the only other one who lives here?”

“Oh. Right.” I turned my attention back to my task. I was aware that Noah sat beside me, not close as we usually would but with a bit more distance between us.

“What did you get me?”

“Why would I get you anything?”

“Because we’re besties.”

I let out a short derisive line. “Sure. You’ve never said that before.”

Noah was silent. I didn’t care. I was annoyed that my peace had been disturbed in my natural habitat, hence I worked in silence. Where there once used to be comfortable silences between us, this one felt remarkably heavy.