No Noël | ✓

4 » too much pressure to be jolly

4 » too much pressure to be jolly

❅

I decided to talk to—no, sorry—beg Kelly to remove my name from Secret Santa and the party.

The final straw to completely pull back came when my mother finally called. I didn't want to hear from her or care at all on what she had to say, but the fact that she hadn't bothered in a while left me confused. And I hated the small bit of relief I felt when I saw the phone ring.

"Ma," I said as I answered. That was all it took for her to go off on a Spanish tangent, speaking too fast and angrily for me to properly translate everything. Not like she cared, though. She knew my Spanish was rusty—partly from years of never using it and not being around my family—and that I needed her to speak slowly and clearly.

She did neither, meaning she just wanted to vent. She didn't care if I heard or listened to her. I never did before, just like she and my father never did with me or Angel.

That was one thing Angel and I had always agreed on. It was probably the only thing, actually.

"When are you coming home?" she had asked, and then stood quiet, indicating it was finally my turn to speak.

I had lifted the phone off the counter and pressed it to my ear, watching Amin on the couch look relieved that it was finally off of speaker.

"I'm not," I answered her. I pulled the phone away from my ear once more, knowing she was going to yell again.

"Noel DeJesus," she ground out. "What do you mean you're not coming home? You have to spend the holidays with your family."

Beside the fact that this time of year had always been shitty for me, the forced moments spent with family made it all worse.

"I think I'm just gonna stay out here. It's easier," I tried reasoning.

What I really wanted to say was that it was better, so much better. As my gaze turned toward the large windows of the apartment, I observed the rain falling over the tall buildings. Our view wasn't the greatest, certainly nowhere near the best possible one in New York City, but it was ours. It was mine.

For once, I had something, and I was almost sure that no one could take it away from me. Too much had already been taken.

"What is wrong with you, Noel?" my mother questioned in an angry tone. "Why in the world would you want to spend the holidays alone?"

"I won't be alone," I argued. "I'll have—"

Mom had cut off my sentence with a sound that could only be described as pissed. "I swear if you mention that damn dog..."

I felt my jaw clench, irritated with the way she was speaking of Jack. I didn't know why she hated him so much. They were the ones who got him for me, without even asking if that's what I wanted. If they had asked, I'd have said no way. I was thankful—for once—that it hadn't come to that, because Jack ended up being one of the greatest parts of my life. But having Jack meant attachment, and getting too close to something or someone had always left me burned in the end.

"I wasn't going to mention him," I answered in a clipped tone. Truth was, I knew how she felt about me letting my world revolve around Jack. My answer was going to be a lie: claim Amin invited me to his family's house. But with Amin sitting within earshot, I worried he'd feel bad—or his own version of bad—and give me a pity invite. I needed to think fast. "I'm gonna spend Christmas with..."