I don’t often have the opportunity to be home alone and I often long for it. But tonight it seems depressing. The snow falling outside makes me feel cold. The quiet makes me feel lonely. The Christmas lights Kate and Grace put on the wall giving them the shape of a Christmas tree that I loved a week ago now seem cheap and depressing.

It was my decision to stay here for the holidays, and with my new job I couldn’t really have gone back anyway, but… It’s going to be my first Christmas alone and although I am not particularly attached to the celebration, I find it surprisingly difficult to be alone right now.

Kate went back home and Grace is spending the week with Taz. It’s Christmas Eve so there is no need to try to call anyone. Not that I have that many close friends at the moment. Really, apart from the girls, there are only three people that I could call even on a day like this. Clark, who most likely doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but there is no part of me that wants to call him right now. Damian, but I know how important his family gatherings are for him and I don’t want to interrupt that and make it about me. That leaves Scott. But he is probably with Taz and the rest of their family and I already feel like I have been pushing my way into his life enough right now. The least I can do is leave him alone for this family holiday.

If I am being honest, being with Scott is a little confusing. Because he is the most amazing friend I could ask for right now and we’ve been spending a lot of time together, mostly lunch or ‘work-out dates’ as he calls them, but… that’s the thing: the flirting, the ‘dates’, his smile… My head wants friendship, my body wants more, and my heart wants all of it. So it’s a good thing Scott made it clear he doesn’t want more. Because my head doesn’t usually win the fight over my heart. And so far it never really ended the way it was supposed to… Not that I want a ‘forever love story’ or meet my future husband now. I would just like to have one nice love story that doesn’t leave me with a bitter aftertaste. Not that I resent any of my exes, but none of them made me walk out of the relationship feeling like I had any value.

But maybe I’m just too precious and I just need to toughen up a bit.

I am taken out of my so happy train of thoughts by a knock on the door. This has to be a mistake. Who would just randomly show up here on Christmas Eve? Or maybe it’s a booty call. Marcus or Jack. That would definitely distract me…

I open the door, almost hopeful and… No Jack, no Marcus, but a very cute Scott, snow sprinkled all over his body.

“Hi,” he says with his annoyingly attractive smile.

“Hey… Aren’t you with your family?”

“No. I attend Christmas day but Christmas Eve is for biological children only.”

“That sounds… very cold…”

“Oh, no. That’s my decision. They invite me every year and I think Taz’s mom is a little hurt that I decline every time, but… anyway. Are you going to invite me in?”

“Yeah, sure, sorry. Comin in!” He steps in and as he hangs his coat and scarf, I ask: “What are you doing here?”

“I was home, I was bored, it’s a bit weird to be alone when everyone else is gathering and celebrating, I knew you were in the city, that we’re pretty much the only ones not doing anything tonight, and then I read somewhere that in Japan they celebrate Christmas Eve, not Christmas Day, so I thought we could do something together. Or do nothing together.” I can’t help but smile at that. “What? Do they not celebrate Christmas Eve in Japan?”

“Oh, no, they do. But it’s a couple thing.”

“What?”

“It’s like Valentine’s Day or something.”

“Oooh.” He seems unsettled for a second, but then his smile is back in full force. “We can still do it, can’t we?”

“Sure, we can hang out.”

“It would be like… lovers without benefits.”

“What?”

“We’d be the opposite of friends with benefits.”

I snort. “Sure. Come on, platonic lover.”

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing really. I was watching TV and trying to gather the courage to cook something.”

“Who even watches TV anymore? And if you don’t want to cook, we could get some takeaway. My treat. What do people eat in Japan for Christmas?”

“KFC.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Well… not everyone, obviously, but… chicken is the big thing and KFC managed to market on that.”

“So… have you ever had a Christmas date in Japan?”

“No. I really haven’t been to Japan that much and it was with my mom every time. My dad came once but I don’t think my mom’s family likes him that much. We did spend one Christmas there, though, and I remember eating KFC with my cousins. So it can’t all be a big stereotype. I don’t know. I’m not as in touch with my Japanese side as I should be. Not that I’m in touch with my Canadian side either.”

“At least most of the country speaks the same language.”

“True.”

“Do you speak French?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Japanese?”

“Yes. My mom taught me.”

“I’m guessing that meant yes.”

I nod. “I don't write it really well, though. Grammar and stuff. My mom got me a tutor at some point but… it’s the one thing that never made it in. I can read and write most stuff but not very well.” I probably look very embarrassed but it’s because I am. The few times I went to Japan, some of my family members really treated me like an outsider, a foreigner, and it didn’t help that I still had a broken Japanese on some topics, that I couldn’t write very well, and that I needed my mom to read stuff out to me. I could go by. But as a tourist more than a native. In many ways, I am still illiterate.

“I learned to read when I was twelve,” Scott replies. And he doesn’t look embarrassed but he seems very serious. I don’t think he would share that with just anyone.

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah. It’s… You think it wouldn’t happen in this country nowadays, but… My birth mom wasn’t that bothered, my school life wasn’t that great, and… at some point you stop trying and you develop strategies to hide what you can’t do.”

“How do you hide not being able to read?”

“You’d be surprised. Foster care saved my life. And I don’t mean that I would have died with my first mom or anything, I just mean… I’d be heading toward a really miserable life.”

“You might have overcome it.”

“Maybe, yeah. But I’m grateful I didn’t have to find out. I’m grateful there was this couple who took me in, with a dad who took me to a series of different activities to let my anger and frustration out, who taught me self respect and pride, and with this mother who sat with me every night to catch up on schoolwork, who taught me compassion, and who taught me how to be independent without making me feel like it was a question of survival.”

“For what it’s worth, I think they did a pretty good job.”

“Thanks. Okay, let’s order something. You know what? Let’s find a Japanese restaurant that delivers. Unless… you said you’re not that in touch with your Japanese side and I don’t want to push you into anything stereotypical or uncomfortable.”

“I don’t know Japan very well but I love everything my mom passed down to me. I still love the food, the language, I love writing it even if there might be some mistakes in it, I love the spiritual side even if I really don’t feel it… So, yeah. I can do Japanese food on Christmas Eve with you.”

“Great. Can you do one more thing for me?”

“Sure.”

“Say something else.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Hey! I have no idea what you said, but I know that face! I’m pretty sure that was rude!” But he laughs and takes his phone out.

It’s not the worse I’ve seen, but…

“What?” he asks.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to hold chopsticks.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Look what I’m doing. This one should be between those fingers and you move the other one like this.”

He tries and fails. Four times. “You know what?” he finally decides. “I’ll keep my technique.”

“Fine. Keep holding your chopsticks like a white person.”

“Racist much?” he asks me, but I know this is slight banter and none of that was inappropriate between us. “So. How is the new job?” he asks me.

“Fine. I still find the whole plastic surgery business a bit shallow, but I guess it makes people happy. And I’m pretty much a glorified secretary, so I don’t really deal with any of that.”

“Do you see yourself staying?”

“No. Well… a bit. Save up a bit of money for my next unemployment period.”

“You don’t seem too down about it.”

“I guess I’m learning to see things on the bright side. I think easing up on the partying helped a lot.”

“Good. I’m happy for you.”

“Maybe I’ll be fixed up before spring!”

“Maybe,” he agrees with a smile. “Are you that eager to date again?”

“No. I’m looking forward to feeling complete again. And I don’t mean that someone else is going to provide that for me, I mean… You know what I mean, I’ve talked about it enough by now. You’re probably fed up with all the Andrew Drama.”

He shrugs. “You always talk about yourself like you’re a burden but you’re actually very entertaining to hang out with. Even when you talk about your very complicated relationship with relationships.”

“Oh, I’m the one who’s weird about relationships? When is the last time you had more than a one-night stand with anyone?”

“Hey, I sometimes see some of them multiple times.”

“In a row?”

“I hear some judgment coming from you…”

“No judgment. You and I don’t do that. But I’m curious. Why don’t you want to date anyone? Bad past experience?”

“Not really. It’s… Some boys get attached or want more. A lot of them, actually. And I’ve never been interested like that. I tried a few times just to realize that I like meeting new people more than I like that person. And I don’t mean sleeping around, I mean it literally. How awful is it to have a boyfriend waiting at home and to enjoy more talking to complete strangers about their lives? But, true, there is also the sex. I like diversity. I have never cheated, but I have already ended relationships because I wanted to hook up with someone else.”

“You could have an open relationship.”

“What’s the point in that? I’m not saying it’s a bad concept, and that’s great if it works for people, but… If I wanted someone waiting for me at home while we’re both having sex with other people, I’d take a roommate. What about you? What kind of relationship do you want?”

“The one that would make me feel like out of all the boys in the world, I’m the one they want. In life, in bed, in good and bad times. One where I could look at the other person and think that they make me feel safe. In all the ways you can mean that sentence. One that still surprises me sometimes. One where I feel like the other person feels all of that when they look at me.”

“I don’t really know your other boyfriends, but… that definitely wasn’t Clark.”

“No. But for all his flaws, he also has some really good sides to him. He made me laugh. He made me explore new things, and I don’t just mean the weird stuff, he is very generous, he… Despite everything, I still value the time we spent together. Even if I can acknowledge that it’s for the best that it ended, and that he did some really shitty things to me in the end.”

“I don’t dislike Clark. But I don’t think he’s a good look on you.”

“No? Who would be then?”

He pauses for longer than I expected and I can tell from his eyes that what he says is not what he initially had set his mind to: “I don’t know. But I’ll help you find him.”

“Like any good lover without benefit would.”

He chuckles. “Exactly. I’ll be your best lover without benefits. Speaking of. New year’s Eve party at Taz’s. I know you’ve been invited. Are you coming?”

“I think so. I told the girls I would be their designated driver.”

“No drinking then?”

“It’s not that I don’t drink anymore. I don’t think I have an addiction problem. I just don’t hide in partying anymore and I’m afraid that getting drunk on New Year is just going to lead me to a club and maybe a lounge and… Not that there is anything wrong with that,” I add, realizing how it might come across.

“I’m not precious about it. I know that what happened that night with Stan was crude and promiscuous. I’m not proud of it. But I’m also not ashamed.”

“Because you knew what you were doing. If I had followed Clark that night, it would have been different.”

“As a general rule, you shouldn’t follow people that give you random pills out of the blue.”

“Yeah, well… I don’t have a lot of common sense when I’m partying. I don’t have a lot of common sense when Clark is around either. But more importantly… what the hell are you doing with those chopsticks now?”

We are sitting on the window seal (those are massive here), looking at the snow gently fall.

“Scott, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I see your other tattoo?”

“Andrew Scott… always trying to undress me…”

I smile at him. I’m getting used to the flirting and I don’t read anything into it anymore. “Something like that,” I agree. But then he starts unbuckling his belt and he freezes when he sees my confused face.

“What? Didn’t you want to… Oooh. You mean the chest, don’t you?”

“I do. But… whatever you were going to show works too. How many tattoos do you have?”

“Four. Five. Four and a half.”

“How do you get half a tattoo?”

“The fourth one is made of two pieces.”

“Can I see them all?”

“You know what? I feel like I’m the only one getting naked right now. How about we make a deal?”

“Hum… sure?”

“Share something personal with me and I show you a tattoo.”

“I have shared plenty today.”

“And I told you about not being able to read when I was a kid. For so long that has been my deepest shame. Taz might be the only other person I’ve ever told. So I need more from you.”

“Fine. Like what?”

“Four tattoos, four boyfriends. Spill the stories, I drop the clothes…”