Christmas Magic

Being in New Jersey at this time of year, or any time of year, or, better yet, being in New Jersey at all, ever, was not part of my life plan.

I hated New Jersey when my mom and I first moved here, not just anywhere, but in the worst part of it, in the ghettos. Not that we had lived in a better part of another city before, because she liked drugs and she never could hold a job longer than a few weeks, so we were always poor, but at least in California it was warm.

Anyway, I hated it until I met him; then I loved it and wouldn’t have traded it for any luxurious, warm island in the world.

I met him two days after we moved. I was coming home from school when two boys and two girls picked on me. They were older, and the boys were laughing as the girls pushed me around and ripped my only jacket, which was not very warm to begin with, but it was better than the nothing they left me with.

I was on the ground when I first heard his loud voice, yelling at them to leave me alone, and when I looked back, I saw the most beautiful boy I have ever seen in my life.

My heartbeats, which were almost cracking my ribs from fear, started racing even faster, but now it had nothing to do with fear; it had everything to do with him.

He was about 5 ft 10 when I was barely 5 ft 4. His light brown hair, with natural dirty-blond highlights, fell in loose, beautiful waves to his shoulders, while mine was jet black, not Afro-textured because my dad was white and my mom was only half black, but it's not straight either.

I have curls, but the kind you can run your fingers through.

His skin was white and flawless, while mine, as he used to put it, is a sandy complexion, smooth and just a tad tawny.

As he came closer, I instantly fell in love with the most mesmerizing baby-blue eyes I have ever seen.

I was so enchanted that I didn’t even realize I was still on the ground. I wasn’t even cold anymore. I was... floating, unable to take my eyes off him.

I remember how he smiled at me soothingly and extended his hand for me to take, a big hand compared to mine. It took me a few seconds to recover and take it. Then, with a gentle but firm grip, he pulled me off the ground and guided me so I would be hidden behind him while he and his best friend took care of the bullies.

“Are you hurt?” I remember him asking, his eyes worried, as he looked me over from head to toe for injuries. If I didn’t have a darker skin tone, I’m sure I would have turned fire red.

I couldn’t talk or answer, so I just extended my hands and showed him my wounded palms. He took them and examined them, then, with a gentle smile, looked back into my dark brown eyes.

“We’ll fix that, but first, take your jacket off. It’s wet and ripped,” he said in a soft voice, and I shook my head.

“I-It’s f-f-fine...” I stuttered like a little girl with a crush, and as I felt that hot wave wash through me again, I looked away, afraid he might see that I like him.

“Sweet. But give me the jacket.” My heart skipped a beat and flipped inside my chest for the first time in my life when he called me sweet.

I remember my stomach literally turning upside down, giving me the impression that I’d throw up from giddiness. Of course, it was useless to say I couldn’t answer. My voice was lost, so I just shook my head.

I was ashamed to tell him that I don’t have another one, and I didn’t even want to think about what mom will do to me when she sees it, but I still couldn't give it to him.

“Okay, then. I guess I’ll have to take it myself.” When I heard that, my head snapped toward him, but before I could say anything, he unzipped it, took it off, then wrapped me in his red jacket, which he had most probably taken off when I was looking at my worn, ripped shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

I wanted to protest, but before I could open my mouth, he spoke.

“It looks better on you.” His voice was smooth, and even if he was 14, it was deep, and I experienced the first shivers that turned my skin into goosebumps.

The jacket reached my mid-thighs, and it covered more than half of my hands, leaving only a small part of my fingers exposed.

I knew I looked ridiculous; the jacket was, after all, for boys, but I felt good, and the scent of fresh detergent, like the earth after the rain, made me feel safe, and that was another feeling I had never felt before, and God knows I never wanted it to end.

“N-No... It d-doesn’t...” I stuttered again, and I’m certain he thought I had a speech impediment.

“What do you say, Jade? Who’s right?” He asked the girl he was with, who, as I later found out, was his best friend, Jada, and who later became my best friend as well, but who ended up being my worst enemy.

“She looks hilarious but sweet.” My fake best friend answered with a huge smile that, at the time, seemed genuine, and I hid my face in the jacket so they wouldn’t see my enormous smile.

“Tris, I think she likes you.” My breath stopped altogether, and my heart raced. I looked up at him, afraid he’d bully me or get angry at me. It happened before, even though I didn't even like that boy. I just zoned out, and so it happened that he was in front of me.

He started calling me a creep and making fun of me for being poor and mixed, but Tristan just smiled sweetly.

“I wish, but she doesn’t. She’s probably just shy. Aren’t you, Bambi?” Hearing him say I wish made my heart beat so hard that I really thought I’d faint, and God is my witness that I really melted at that nickname.

“B-Bambi?” I asked, looking into his baby-blue eyes, which were looking at me with endearment, or so I thought then.

“Yes. You have big brown eyes, just like Bambi, and you look like a deer in front of a bus right now,” he said, the same smile on his beautiful face reaching his baby-blue eyes, making them shine even brighter.

Jada chuckled but agreed with him.

Anyway, we got together in less than a week at Ma’s dinner. I froze when he told me he liked me, and when he asked if I liked him back, I just nodded because I couldn't find my voice—that happened a lot around him. Then, when he leaned in to kiss me, he saw that I wasn’t breathing, but he reassured me in his smooth, soothing voice and with his gentle smile, which, as always, reached those baby-blue eyes that made my heart skip beat after beat after beat.

“It’s okay, Bambi. This is my first kiss, too, but we’ll learn together, okay?” I believed him then, but after I saw his true colors, I realized it was all an act, a four-year-long performance that almost cost me my future.

Why did he do it? I’m still trying to find the answer. I have a few ideas.

I had ten years to think about everything over and over again, and one possibility is that he wanted to make Jada jealous because Jada said she's a lesbian, but clearly she lied since she ended up in his bed.

The point is that I was just someone to pass the time with, someone he used until he got his true love, Jada.

Or maybe it was the fact that Jada's family is very strict, so they kept their feelings for each other hidden until they could hide no more.

Who knows?

I shake my head to get rid of the memories that won’t go away no matter what I do, and I curse myself for hurting even now, but being here, in the same town as they are, makes it very hard to push those terrible memories away.

I left New Jersey ten years ago after I saw them half-naked in bed, making out, Jada kissing his neck, and him... he was holding on to Jada’s hips so hard as if he were afraid someone would take her away.

They didn’t even pull apart when I caught them.

He didn’t even pretend to be sorry... they didn’t even look at me...

I remember how my world shattered, how tears rolled down my cheeks instantly, hot and painful as lava that burned everything in its path. The air was not knocked out of my lungs; it was sucked out by the pain I never thought I could feel.

The sounds of my broken, desperate voice still echo in my head. The pain in it still hurts, and their reaction still cuts through my broken heart like a hot knife through butter.

“Tris... ple-ase, I’m b-begging you... look... at me.” I tried, but I was met with painful silence that only fueled the desperation and hurt inside me.

“Tris, I’ll do anything, I swear! Just don’t leave me, Tris! Baby... please!” I begged again and again, but it was in vain.

As my hope that they’d pull apart, that Tris would take me into his big arms and kiss my tears and pain away, diminished, my voice grew even more broken.

The sobs barely let me talk. I don’t even know if he understood everything I said, but he heard my excruciating pain... everyone would have heard it.

“Tell me what I did wrong... I promise I won’t do it again... Or... or... if you don’t like me... I can change... I’ll change, baby... I swear... or... or... or... if you want... to experiment with... someone else... I can accept... it... just tell me what... to do... just... don’t leave me, Tris...” I begged pathetically as I walked toward them, hoping they could see how much it hurt... maybe they would take pity on me and stop, pull apart.

I didn’t care about pride; all I wanted was for him to love me.

“Do you hear yourself? You’re pathetic.” His cold voice and deadly words froze the small pieces my heart had broken into and killed me, taking away my strength. My knees buckled painfully, and I fell to the ground like a broken shell of a human I was slowly becoming.

“PULL APART!!!” The scream of pain I let out echoed in the small room, but it was as if they didn’t hear it because they didn’t even move.

Seeing that I had no chance with him, in my desperation I tried to convince Jada to listen to me.

“Jada... please don’t take him away from me. I’m begging you, Jada... he’s my world... you know that... please... don’t, Jada... don’t... please look at me, Jada... you’re my best friend... my sister... sisters don’t... do this... it hurts... Jada... don’t take my world away...” I begged and begged through broken sobs and hot tears of utter pain, but she didn’t listen to me either. She didn’t even reply.

“I don’t... understand, Tris... you said... you said you love me...” I tried to speak a little more clearly so he could understand me, but I regretted it when he killed me with another cold answer.

“And I lied.” I think that was the moment when every single fiber of my being was destroyed. Then, to make it worse, he whispered something to Jada as if I were a stranger he had to hide from. An outsider.

“What did... you say?” I tried... God... I tried to become part of them again, but they wouldn’t let me, no matter how much I begged.

“Adalia, go away. I waited way too long for this, and I won't let you ruin it. Take a hint and leave.” And that was what broke me beyond repair. It was the first time he called me anything other than Bambi, and his voice was like a woodchopper that turned on inside me and ripped me into pieces.

No matter how hard I tried, and I’m still trying, I can’t fix myself. I hate him for that. I hate Jada, but mostly I hate myself for not seeing that coming, for letting myself make him my Universe.

So, I decided to accept the scholarship Harvard offered me, one I was about to turn down just to stay with him, and I avoided coming back here at all costs.

But now my assistant and best friend, who is filthy rich and comes from royalty, but ended up working for me because he wanted to rebel against his parents by taking a job, is at some family gathering with duchesses and lords, who are his aunts and uncles.

I had to come and take care of a contract I would have refused if it wasn’t so important, but it’s a really big contract, and I decided that even though my past haunts me day and night, I won’t let it dictate my future.

I worked hard to start this company. Only I know how many sleepless nights I had, not to mention how hard it was for me, a woman, and a mixed one at that, to break into the men's world, be taken seriously, and earn my respect.

Only I know how many times I was harassed and belittled by men with money, or how many contracts I lost because I refused to sleep with them. There's no way in hell or heaven I'll lose a contract this big because of them.

The ring of my phone pulls me out of my daily nightmare, and I swallow the lump that’s always in my throat, which grows when I think of those details.

I take a few breaths, close my eyes, which, against my wishes, are tearing, and push the painful tears away, which, even though I hate to admit it, would have fallen if not for my phone ringing.

I clear my throat so my voice doesn’t come out as I feel, broken and in pain, and answer without looking at who’s calling because any distraction is a very welcome one right now.