Fly With Me | ✓

45

For someone who had turned 28 not two weeks before Christmas, Everleigh sure drank like an 18 year old on their first bender. Rum and eggnog was quite the choice for someone who was scared of nutrition labels. Then again, six glasses in on rum after an hour of drinking meant that Everleigh was flying high above the birds anyhow. She didn't really care what anything said because she was past the point of reading it.

After opening any gifts in her flat she'd been shipped—ones from Stevie, Juno, and, God, even Donny had sent her a stupid little surfboard keychain in return for her stupid little Tower Bridge. Everleigh had sent Stevie a terribly ugly Christmas sweater covered in blue, pink, and purple that said I'm dreaming of a bi Christmas that she hoped Stevie would laugh at, and given the ugly sweater that had been sent her way, she had a good feeling about it. She'd also made Roman take her to some... sports store? One that sold merch. Found the cheesiest Bash banner she could find and sent it her way. Everyone who got a gift from her also had a Christmas card that was really just a polaroid of her and Dewey cheesing for the camera with happy Christmas scribbled at the bottom—Stevie got Mele Kalikimaka.

When she arrived at her parents' house with the few presents she had to pack, everybody was in the living room besides Roman, who was wearing a ridiculous kiss the cook apron and Everleigh fought the urge to hit him. It was Christmas, after all.

Maybe she could blame him for her excessive drinking in the hour that followed. How even though Roman made everyone dinner, Everleigh had a few bites and fed the rest to Dewey under the table like she was some turkey-hating child. She elected to ignore the look Roman gave her when he caught her doing it. Eating the pie he'd made for dessert was about the only plate Everleigh finished without sharing with Dewey.

The Christmas crackers always made her laugh, at the very least. The way that Roman slapped a stupid paper crown on her head and she was a little too drunk to care and the jokes inside each cracker made her momentarily forget the fact that Maverick wasn't there enjoying the holiday with her. (Ignore that they should have had to figure out who's parents they were going to spend the day with, figure out which country they'd be in.) (Everleigh would've loved to argue with him about something like that—not something like Vegas. Ever again.)

When dinner was over and presents were opened, Everleigh went outside. Didn't even try to hide it. Her family had tried their best to distract her. Even gave her Navi to hold onto so she had to worry about someone other than herself. She'd brought the carton of eggnog and the bottle of rum with her. Left Dewey to his own devices in the house where Troy had called himself grandad too many times for someone who's actual granddaughter was in his daughter's arms at the other end of the couch.

"Yelloooooo." Even in the dim porch light, Everleigh could tell it was Roman's shadow creeping up on her.

Everleigh rolled her eyes and didn't move from the middle of the staircase, her seat on the porch had just warmed up.

Roman tapped her hip with his foot. "Move over."

"Really not going to help how shitty I feel implying I'm taking up the entire staircase."

"I want to put my leg out."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a dad now, need to stretch out."

"No."

"You don't move over I'm just going to sit on you."

"Do not put your ass anywhere near me—"