I woke up to the sun shining brightly through the window and blasting into my eyes. I groaned and rolled over, escaping the glaring wake-up call.

“I’ll get up in ten more minutes,” I mumbled into the mattress.

My dry eyes burned too intensely to bother opening them. And I hurt all over. I dozed off, letting the quiet morning noises envelope me in their peacefulness. The bed and I were now one, nothing could ever separate us. We would be together forever. There were even wedding bells chiming softly in the background, a little off-key and aggressive, but I could dig it.

I grumbled curses as the wedding bells clanged louder. I wasn’t that excited to get married to a mattress.

Dang it. Those weren’t church bells.

It was my cursed alarm clock ruining everything. Coulda swore I’d shut the darn thing off. I fumbled around my nightstand thwapping various objects until the incessant blaring stopped.

Well, I was way more awake than I wanted to be, but when life gives you lemons… you know how it goes. Face still in the pillow, I shoved my legs underneath me, groaning with enough effort that my soul might’ve left for good. My posture was like a floppy potato—the picture of finesse.

After a few minutes, I eventually rolled out of bed.

I stumbled down the hallway, rubbing my face, hoping to see more than just blurs soon. And no, I did not need glasses, I just had a case of the sleepy-eyes. After running into the wall a few times, I finally made it to the most sacred place in the apartment, the bringer of all joy… the kitchen.

As I opened the fridge and fumbled around for leftover pizza from who knows when, the stupid door kept swinging shut on me. After the third time, I’d had enough. I shoved it away from me, shouting like a lunatic, “I am not friends with you door!” And thus, smacking it into Kyle and knocking his sorry butt to the floor.

I yelped in alarm, my pulse suddenly racing at his sudden appearance. “Wait, you’re still here?” I squawked, peeking over the top of the fridge door.

Making no attempt to move from his splayed-out position, he groggily dragged a hand down his face. “Funny, I was about to ask you the same question?” He did not sound awake yet.

“Oh, well, I’m still here because I found out from a certain group of people that I’m not goin’ home for Christmas break. You?” I turned back to the fridge, continuing my mission for pizza.

“I never planned on leaving.”

“Really?” I poked my head over the fridge door again. “Why?”

He shrugged, a distant look in his eyes as he stared up at our popcorn textured ceiling.

“You gonna lay there for the whole of break?” Oo! Found the pizza. I pushed an arm to the back of the fridge, grasping for the edge of the container.

“Yeah, I’m going to lay here for a while. According to the universe, I’m not supposed to be walking around just yet.”

So, he simply laid on his back, content with what was happening in his life. I contemplated getting a blanket for him, since I was the one who put him there, but shrugged it off. Food was more important.

I settled myself on our one chair at the table to chomp away at my pizza, knowing I had absolutely nothing school related to do the entire day. Oh, what bliss. I wasn’t sure whether I was relieved or annoyed that I’d be spending most of my time with Kyle for Christmas.

“So, why aren’t you goin’ home for break?”

“Don’t you ever mind your own business?” He bristled.

“O-kay. I’ll just eat my pizza then.” I guess it was a touchy subject. But what wasn’t with this guy.

All I could hear was the hum of the fridge over the sound of my munching and that just wasn’t gonna cut it. I needed to do something to make me feel better about telling my parents not to pick me up for the holidays. Once I got a new phone, it wasn’t a conversation I was looking forward to.

So, I shot a question to my housemate, who was now resting comfortably half in, half out of the kitchen and the living room, “Hey, what time is it?”

He flopped an arm over his face. “Uhh, something like nine thirty? I have no clue. You figure it out.”

Perfect. Plenty of time.

“Well, I thought I’d ask. You usually know everything, so why have me go to the effort?”

He removed his arm and raised his head, a mirthful look in his eyes. “Sawyer, are you just using me?”

“No, I’m just being efficient with the resources and skills I have at present,” I assured, waving off the accusation with a pizza slice laden hand.

He dropped his head back to the floor, sighing, “Used. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Uh, yeah,” I laughed, “like you don’t do the same to me. I’d say we’re even.”

Another sigh. “Let me lie here in peace. I beg you.”

“Then beg.” I smirked.

“I hate you.”

I chuckled. Maybe Christmas break with this doofus wouldn’t be so bad.

Let’s talk facts.

You know what you should not do the Friday before Christmas? Go to the mall in search of a gift! I swear I almost died like three times, and that was just in the parking lot. I thought maybe all that snow would dissuade people from their shopping antics, but apparently nothing stops the death trap of Christmas shopping.

Regardless, I was not prepared for that experience. I did, just barely, survive. And was dexterous enough to make it back to the apartment victorious. My thought was that if I gave myself a mission to find Kyle the perfect Christmas gift, I’d feel better about spending Christmas away from home. It helped some, but my family was on the front of my mind as I fought through the crowds, leaving me far from cheerful. I’d already bought my family gifts, thank goodness. But instead of presenting them personally, I’d have to mail them. It would be months before I saw them in person again.

That was when a blindingly bright t-shirt mall kiosk descended upon my fortunes. For they possessed a bedazzled, neon, laser-covered t-shirt that said: ‘SEND HELP: I’m Living with a Genius.’ Thank you mall kiosk man, I will forever be in your debt.

Kyle was a graphic design major, so this shirt was going to blow his mind. I think choosing comic sans as the font was going to be a crowning testament to our relationship. He talked about that font a lot for some reason.

I also purchased several things I needed, including a new phone, finally. A spontaneous addition to the day was a five-pound bag of butterfingers I found at this bulk candy store, along with a super-packed-family-sized bag of sour skittles. Say adios to our tastebuds folks, they will tell tales of our glory. I couldn’t wait get to the bottom of the bag where the dusty, miraculous substance that makes sour skittles so amazing rested. Down the hatch with that fairy magic, we’re goin’ to funky town.

It was gettin’ dark as I pedaled back, stress on the sorta ‘cause despite the sun clockin’ out for the day, the warm glow of Christmas lights created time of their own and a certain quiet that came with it. Well, in a sense. The cars still zoomed by, paying little attention to the crazy rando biking through the massive snow piles.

This was my favorite time of day, where the darkness hid me from the rest of the world and its plethora of problems. Was it technically safe for a woman such as myself to be out alone in a city? Obviously not, but the key to feeling safe is having the upper hand. Sometimes that consists of a whole lot of crazy carrying a sharp knife. Anyone who tried messin’ with me regretted it right quick.

Anywho, I was low-key afraid Kyle would still be laying on the floor when I got back. ‘Course, it all depended on how much of life he needed to ponder, which I, myself, personally would rather not do. For mental reasons. I was leaving life pondering for a time when I was no longer breathing.

But I made it back. Three cheers for Sawyer (thank you internal cheerleader), and Kyle, shockingly, wasn’t even around. He hadn’t said anything about going out, but him disappearing was pretty normal. Who knows? I’m not his keeper. He can do whatever he wants.

I paused, my pj’s halfway pulled on. Because wait, he could be doing some of his Syndicate business right now. Wasn’t I supposed to be keeping track of that stuff? The whole thing kept slippin’ my mind in general. I made a mental note and moved on to more pressing things, like getting my pants all the way up ‘cause it was cold.

New phone in hand, its gleaming, unscratched screen winking into alertness, I sent a quick text off to Sarah and Jordan, letting them know I was back in business. I sighed as I tossed my phone onto the bed and worked to empty the rest of my backpack. All that biking in the snow had worn me out more than I’d realized. But two dings, one after the other, had me over to my bed in an instant.

I smiled at their lively replies. I missed them so much. But I hoped they were having a good time with their families even more. With that, I pressed the off button, turning the screen black, and tossed it back on the bed. It was time for some chow. Then, I’d give my parents a call.

I strolled to the dark kitchen and flipped the light on. Opening up the cupboard, I gazed into it, attempting to make the laborious decision between popcorn or tacos for supper; tacos being the obvious actual meal, and popcorn being the quickest way to get food into my stomach. My fingers tapped a beat on the open door. It shouldn’t have been that hard of a decision. I hadn’t had a meal all day.

With a surge of energy, I decided that tacos it was. I actually had some time to make a decent meal, might as well make the most of it.

All was quiet in the apartment, even the ceaseless winter wind seemed to be taking a break for the night. It was nice. Grabbing my laptop from my room, I set it on the kitchen counter to select a music playlist to accompany me. Something soothing and heartfelt should do the trick.

Meal mostly successfully cooked—we won’t talk about the multiple, five-second-rule mishaps—I sat at the table, munching on my tacos and wishing for the comfort of a feline friend. Believe me, I’d tried my hardest to convince Kyle to have a cat in the apartment, there was even one I’d been befriending in a nearby alley, but Kyle had yet to relent.

Memories of home flooded my senses: the soft fur of my sister’s cat, the smell of my mom’s morning coffee, the barely-there scent of something burning in my dad’s workshop, the rush and chaos of the holidays. My chest tightened, and I stopped eating. I missed them. The quiet air of the apartment pressed around me.

But home was a darker place now, ever since that Syndicate group, the Iron Maidens, ruined my parent’s lives. My parents had been lawyers, and darn good ones at that. But then they went up against a dangerous business group. In the beginning, they didn’t know it was run by the Iron Maidens. A mistake they’d live through, but never regret. As my mom said, they had their chances to back down, to take the money under the table and let the case lie.

Mom and Dad thought they could be the ones to put a stop to the illegal trafficking operations, but it turned out some people really are above the law. My parents lost their jobs, their livelihood, their home. They still had us kids, the four of us, but the mirthful delight for life had dulled in my parent’s eyes. I hoped to bring it back one day.

That’s what I was really fighting for. To get our family as close to how it used to be as possible before all my younger siblings grew up and left the house. I wanted them to have an amazing life so much, it hurt.

And that’s why I had to keep working hard, I reminded myself. I just gotta graduate, get good grades, and keep at it.

And after that… I literally had no idea. Get a job of some kind, I suppose. But it’s not like I really had time to go job searching while in school. The whole point of college is to get a good job though, right? Well, I think that’s the whole point. That’s what I was banking on, anyway. Plus, I’d read somewhere that the most common undergrad degree of CEOs is History so I was on the right track there. Guess I’d find out. Gonna burn that bridge when I get there.