Sadie (18+)

"Now that is one attractive family," I declared giddily, the click of Gina's camera following. I zoomed in for a better shot, crouching. "You better use some of these for your Christmas cards next year."

Gina's warm laughter filled the room, and I took another shot with her mouth open, all red lips and white teeth. She was a beautiful woman, with flawless, youthful skin, and thick, curly eyelashes that reached the brow.

I paused for a second, taking in the Alessi family as though it were the first time. The parents were third-generation Italians, and they looked the part: olive skin, dark hair and eyes.

Tony, the son, was a younger version of his father, with a similarly mild Roman nose. Julia looked like her mother, petite and shapely, but the main difference was the scattering of freckles that peppered her small nose.

I had become so comfortable around the family that I often forgot how attractive they were. The one that shocked me the most, however, was Vincent, husband and father.

I shifted my view to him, raking my eyes over the dark suit which hugged his arms, creasing the fabric. The suit complimented his skin tone exceptionally well; I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen him in one. He cleaned up well, almost too well—it was startling to see him look so handsome.

I discreetly zoomed in with the camera, peeking through the lens at the man's complexion. I realized upon closer inspection that his eyes were not actually dark like his wife and children, but a bright hazel with flecks of gold.

This sudden attraction was confusing. I put the camera down, my heart pattering rapidly as I attempted to swallow down this strange realization, that the man I had known since I was a prepubescent girl, was suddenly pleasing to look at.

I pressed a hand to my flushed cheek, wondering if the wine was to blame. I zoomed back out and snapped one more shot, the flash blinding.

"All done," I said, Tony's smile falling as though doing so had been a strenuous activity. He despised pictures, but more so standing around. The siblings were alike in that sense, both filled with incredible energy. At least Tony had an outlet, that being football. Julia, on the other hand, often came off as a toddler who had eaten too much sugar.

I handed the camera back to Gina, who wrapped me in a hug. Her thick, dark hair was against my face, the smell of hairspray wafting around us.

"How about we replace Tony with you?" she asked, touching my cheek, which earned an eye roll from the grumpy college boy. And then she excused herself, summoned by a group of relatives.

Gina was the type of host that made sure everybody was happy, even if it meant running around like a nut for the evening. She liked it, though—there was something about a full house that swelled her heart.

Christmas was not to be taken lightly in the Alessi family. I had been flattered when Julia asked me to join her tonight, and I much preferred the lively, festive surroundings over my quiet home, empty except for my mother.

Glittery gold and white lights adorned the railings and fireplace in their spacious, contemporary house. Their hefty Christmas tree in the foyer twinkled brightly amongst the homemade and vintage ornaments, a sight that filled my heart with an inescapable tenderness.

I liked to sometimes pretend this house was mine, that I had grown up within these comforting walls, that Julia was my sister and Gina my mother.

I received a glimpse of myself in the large, round mirror in the foyer, the blue-eyed, brown haired girl staring back resembling not a single person in this house. I possessed a pasty skin tone, which looked rather blinding in comparison to Julia or any of her relatives. That observation alone had yanked me out of my fantasy once again.

The chatter of the guests pulled me back into a somewhat lucid state. While goodbyes and loud smooches were exchanged, I maneuvered to the dining room to start cleaning up. The front door kept opening and closing as the house emptied, so much that the crisp winter air started to sweep over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

I began balancing a stack of dirty dishes in the crook of my arm when a hand touched my side.

"Let me help," Vincent mumbled beside me. "Why don't you go relax? And put on a sweater, maybe? It's cold in here. Gina and I will clean up."

"Oh, stop," I said, fully prepared to help, but he took the dishes from me and placed them on the nearby wine rack. Before I could object, he appeared behind me and began rubbing my shoulders in an attempt to warm me up. It was an act that had once felt friendly and casual, but was now sending a bout of dizziness through me, my skin prickling from the padding of his large hands.

"Thank you," I said awkwardly after he'd stopped much too soon, my face growing warmer within the seconds that passed.

It was surely the wine that was doing this to me.

He glanced at my face for a moment, his head cocked slightly, taking in the strange expression that warped my face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it, disappearing into the kitchen with the stack of dishes. I couldn't blame him—I had reacted as though a stranger had touched me.

I let out a much needed sigh, my thoughts entirely muddled. Julia joined me soon after.

"Are you sleeping over?" she asked. "I was just about to change into my pajamas. I need to get out of this outfit. It's too tight."

I looked down at my strapless, dark green dress and frowned. "Me too. I love this thing, but there's a wire near my boobs and it's been sticking into my skin all night."

Julia inspected my cleavage. "Where?"

I pointed to the area under my right breast, and she started pulling at the dress like she was going to yank it off me right there. "Um, maybe wait until we get upstairs?”.

Vincent reappeared with Gina in tow. The couple sported two lovely, energetic smiles, though Gina's lips oozed a sweet and boisterous laugh. Vincent's fingers reached out to scratch his chiseled jaw, and I nearly swooned.

"Can she sleep over?" Julia asked her mother, one hand still on my dress, which I plucked off.

"You know you don't have to ask, honey," Gina responded, turning to me. "My second daughter is always welcome."

I walked over to Gina and smooched her on the cheek, my lipstick leaving a red smudge. "Love ya."

Julia grabbed my hand and pulled me into the foyer. This was typical behavior for Julia; she always had an abundance of energy, but that was why I loved her. She made everything fun, a stark contrast to my home life.

"Get this dress off me!" she screeched, and I howled with laughter as we ran up the stairs, resisting the terrible urge to look back at her father.

Once we made it to her bedroom, I zipped her out of her dress and she out of mine, thankful to be free. While I threw over a t-shirt and slipped into sweatpants, Julia inspected the wire in my dress.

"I think I got it," she stated, her eyebrows scrunched together as she leaned over the dress. "Also, guess who texted me back?"

"Justin?" I guessed, rubbing the makeup off my face with a wipe. "It better not be."

Julia sighed. "Why do you have to hate him? He said he stopped talking to her weeks ago. It's good now."

I shook my head. "I don't know why you even bother. Can you really, truly trust him? You're not a babysitter, you know."

She threw my dress on the desk chair and plopped down on the bed, breathing out a loud sigh.

"Sorry I don't like old men like you," Julia replied glumly. "Weirdo."

I shoved her. "They're not old. They're like, mid-forties. I tried dating, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, her voice sounding quieter and slower. "Wonder what he's up to now."

"Don't care," I responded. "Probably cheating on his girlfriend, if he has one. Maybe the college guys will be better."

I didn't get a response, and by then I knew she'd fallen asleep. All of that energy had to subside eventually. I slowly got off the bed as to not wake her and draped a blanket over her small frame.

I snuck off into the bathroom to brush my teeth, and heard the television from downstairs when I exited. I stood by the railing, listening, then decided to follow the noise.

"Is she passed out already?" Gina asked when I entered the living room, her wet hair splayed over her shoulder.

I nodded. "She looks so cute."

"I bet she does," she said, laughing. "There's about an hour left of Home Alone on TV. Want to watch with us? Vincent's making hot chocolate."

And I did, but I didn't watch the movie. I picked at the marshmallows in my mug in the dark and watched Vincent instead.