Christmas day arrived. Brendan was insistent that all three of them should go to watch the candle lighting ceremony on the campus grounds, where a two-storey tree had been erected and finger sized candles lifted into its branches. It was for a good cause, as every candle cost a dollar and represented a homeless child. Christian thought it a bit morbid for the festive season, but maybe that was the point.

Brendan was currently promising there would be carollers.

“How is that supposed to be incentive?” Laurel asked him, arms crossed, face mulish. She wasn’t budging on her ‘no leaving the house after sunset’ policy.

“It’s going to be nice, Laurel! I can’t believe I have to persuade you.” Brendan told her, exasperated.

“I don’t do ‘nice’. And you don’t have to persuade me. I am more than happy to be left out.” She retorted. She was still wearing her pajamas.

Brendan looked appealingly at Christian, who was drinking coffee at the kitchen counter, watching them. “Christian, help.”

Christian shook his head. “Nope.”

“Laurel, come on. It’s Christmas.”

“So?

Despite her making it clear that she had no love for Christmas or the cold, and had zero intention of ever joining them for the evening, Brendan wouldn’t let up. They had been facing off against each other for the last twenty minutes, and Christian tried to stay out of it, but their aggression had reached boiling point.

Laurel stood, feet planted firmly apart, arms folded and looking like an angry, red-haired pixie. Brendan towered over her, arms moving with wide, expansive gestures, head bobbing and tilting as he went through his arsenal: persuasion, coercion, guilt-tripping, and finally, needling.

Brendan could be pervasive if not persuasive. Christian mused that maybe it was this aspect that made him a successful athlete.

“Brendan, you need to get out of my face. I moved into my own place so I wouldn’t have to deal with your manic, energiser-bunny attitude, and yet somehow I still haven’t managed to escape it.” She growled at him.

Brendan was nonplussed. “What do you mean? It’s not like I live here.”

“If you don’t live here, then why do I find your dishes in the sink, and your hair in the shower?”

“It’s not that bad.” he said defensively. He turned his face to Christian. “Am I that bad?”

Christian debated weighing in on this, but Laurel was glaring at him too now so he supposed he had to say something. “Well, you are a bit untidy…”

“But I’m helping too!”

That was true. He cooked. Christian and Laurel had been eating better in the last few weeks since Brendan had been around. Christian only shrugged though, trying to be Switzerland.

“I’m not going. And if you ask me again, I’m going to scalp you.”

Brendan threw his hands up, giving in. “Fine. At least Christian is trying to enjoy the festive season.”

Christian refrained from mentioning that the main reason he was going was because he might see Jazz there. Even though he had yet to text him.

“Bring back some Christmas cheer.” She told him sourly, before reversing into her room and shutting the door hard.

Christian and Brendan were left alone in the kitchenette. “God knows you could use some.” Brendan muttered, staring at her closed door. He turned to glance at Christian, looking pained. “What’s her problem?”

Christian suspected that it might have something to do with Jordan, but Brendan still didn’t know about him so he couldn’t say. Instead he took a sip of coffee to think before replying; “She’s your sister.”

Brendan rubbed his neck, distressing the already messy hair there.

“I guess but…” he pressed his lips together ruefully. “She and I haven’t ever been really close.”

“Never? Not even when you were kids?”

“Well, maybe when we were really little. We drifted apart more as we grew up. But after the divorce…things changed.” Brendan was still looking at her door, looking sadder as he spoke.

Christian hesitated. He didn’t know how to navigate Brendan, or his strained sibling relationship. Christian knew that their parents had divorced just before they had moved to Binkytown, and their father paid their college fees, but that was the extent of his knowledge on their family issues. Laurel didn’t want to talk about it, and he never asked.

But he tried.

“We aren’t like you, Bren. Laurel and I don’t do parties and people. I know you’re trying to reconnect with her, but maybe you should try to be a little less aggressive about it?”

Brendan looked at him in surprise. “Am I being aggressive?”

Christian pulled his shoulders up, but it wasn’t a shrug. “Not aggressive maybe, but like a puppy with a shoe. She feel harassed.”

Brendan was still nonplussed. He looked at Laurel’s door, frowning, then back to him.

“I don’t...” he started. “Do you feel harassed?”

Pausing briefly, Christian answered with an apologetic half-shrug.

“I’m sorry Christian. I didn’t think...” Brendan closed his eyes, still rubbing his neck, ruefully

“It’s ok.”

“Do you even want to go tonight? I know it was my idea…”

Christian nodded emphatically. “Yes.”

“You’re not lying to spare my feelings?”

“No, Bren. I want to go.” Christian answered with total sincerity.

Brendan didn’t look completely happy, but he left it. “Ok. Well, I’ll come and get you around nine alright? I’ve got to go check the tires.” He said, referring to the little yellow Fiat he and Laurel shared.

Christian nodded and watched Brendan leave, his wide shoulders hunched.

Expelling a loud breath as the door closed, Christian was reminded why he would rather avoid confrontation, even if it had nothing to do with him. The relationship between his best friend and her brother meant that there was almost a permanent sense of tension in the apartment lately, and it was tiring.

It was like Brendan and Laurel didn’t know how to get along. Brendan pushed at her, oblivious to her warnings, and Laurel ignored him most of the time, then sniped at him when he wouldn’t let her. Christian didn’t enjoy being around for it, but it wasn’t like he had a choice, beyond locking himself in his room.

He was rinsing out his mug when he heard Laurel’s door open.

“Is he gone?”

Christian looked at her over his shoulder and nodded.

She made a disgusted sound but didn’t say anything, coming up next to him to take his mug from his hands and use it to pour coffee for herself. Christian set to unpacking the draining board of mugs. There were always more crockery in the draining board than in the actual cupboard, because they were just that lazy.

“So, are you going to tell me about the bracelet or do I have to drag it out of you?”

Christian froze, staring at the kitchen cupboard, saying nothing.

Laurel was like this. Quiet and going about her own business, then she would say something that showed she had been watching you the whole time. Christian tried to uncurl the nervous excitement in his belly caused by thoughts of Jazz. Just thinking his name was like a trigger, because he felt the start of another blush.

Get a fucking grip, Chris he thought to himself.

He dropped his hand and moved away from her to sit on the couch. She followed and curled herself up beside him, coffee still in hand, eyes intent and waiting.

Christian sighed noisily.

“Jazz gave it to me.” He said eventually. Laurel was his best friend, but it was still strange, to talk about a guy. Or rather, to talk about a chance encounter that could potentially turn into more than just a crush.

“You saw him again?” she pressed, not taking her eyes off him, which made Chris want to look anywhere but at her, and he self-consciously pushed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Yeah, at the night market last night.” He answered.

When he didn’t go on, Laurel made a frustrated noise. “And?”

Chris stared hard at his knees, feeling thick tongued and he couldn’t seem to get any words out. Laurel leaned back, sensing his mood.

“Ok, sorry. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s ok.” She said.

Chris felt the knot in his chest loosen a bit then. And he really did want to tell her.

“Well, it was sort of strange...” he started, remembering the moment when he realized Jazz had known he was there before Christian had even seen him. That knowing smile. “He said he was glad to see me again, and he gave me this bracelet.”

Christian pulled his arm out shyly, so she could see. Her eyes widened. She knew how unusual it was for him to wear jewelry.

“And he gave me his number.” Chris carried on. This time Laurel’s eyebrows disappear completely into her fringe.

“Have you texted him?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

He hesitated. “Yes. No. yes.”

He had two numbers in his phone, but now he had three. Taking his phone from his pocket, pulled up Jazz’s contact info and showed the screen to her.

“Hiro Jazz?” she inquired.

“It’s his stage name.” Chris couldn’t stop his grin now. Laurel’s face was still carefully curious though.

“Does he go to college here?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s the band’s name?”

“I don’t know.”

“How old is he?”

Chris shrugged. “He looks older than me, but we’re the same height…”

Laurel’s face went carefully blank. “So…you actually know nothing about this guy, other than the fact that he is cute enough to make you blush.”

Embarrassment at that caused another tidal wave of blushing that answered her question. Trust Laurel to point out the negative.

“We’ve only actually met twice, Laurel.”

“And yet, he gave you a bracelet.” She pointed out.

Chris felt churlish. Up until now, the thought of Jazz gave him a delicious warm feeling in his abdomen, but now it felt soured.

“You’re not my mother Laurel.”

She looked slapped. “I know that. But this isn’t Binkytown, we have to be more careful.”

He leaned forward, hands back in his pockets, knowing his face was probably frowning. Laurel was certainly not the type to rain on someone’s parade, but here she was, doing it to him and that wasn’t what they did. “I just thought you would be a bit happier for me…”

Laurel stared at him, looking undecided. Then she relented and put a hand out to touch his shoulder. “I am, Chris. I just hear a lot of the bad stuff. I just...have to think this way.” She was referring to her criminology major.

“So you see criminals everywhere?”

“Criminals are everywhere.” She replied, pulling her hand back, but no longer serious. “Suspicious types, lurking around every corner, stapling our papers, mopping your floors…”

Chris grinned. “I’m not a suspicious type.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “That’s because you are transparent as glass. You couldn’t hide a secret if your life depended on it. That’s how I noticed the bracelet. You get all shifty and nervous.”

Chris pressed his lips together at that, but he wasn’t going to correct her.

“So is that why you’re going out with Brendan tonight? In case you see Jazz?” she went on.

Chris nodded, although it seemed like such a ridiculous thing to do. His phone number was right there, all he had to do was text… But he couldn’t.

“Ah I see.” She said musingly. Then her face fell. “Does that mean you wanted me to go with you?”

Chris looked at her, surprised. “No? Why? I know you don’t want to go.”

“So that I could vet him for you.”

Chris sat stock still. “That sounds absolutely horrifying.”

Laurel grinned widely at him, and he had never seen her look more untrustworthy. “I could be a useful ally you know.”

“Not when it concerns my dating life.”

She chuckled and he smiled back.

“So is Jordan the reason you don’t want to go?” Christian asked.

Laurel shot him a look. Christian didn’t usually ask about Jordan, but maybe Brendan was influencing him to be bolder. Or nosier.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you were vicious to Brendan.”

“I was vicious because it’s Brendan and I’m tired of him crawling up my ass with his ‘let’s go out and play’ attitude.”

Chris looked at her hard until she looked back. “Like that. Vicious.”

She sighed. “Well, yes, I suppose it is sort of about Jordan. He was supposed to come here for Christmas so we could spend it together, but he cancelled and that’s annoying.” She admitted. “And also because Brendan was really getting on my nerves.” She shook her head and drained the last of her coffee, then looking mournfully at her empty mug.

“Why does coffee always end too quickly? You want some more?” she asked, getting up for more.

“Sure.”

“What I don’t get,” She spoke up so he could hear her clearly. “Is why Bren isn’t driving you crazy too?”

“I don’t know. I mean, he can be a bit much, but it isn’t terrible.”

“Since when?”

Christian shrugged. “Since now? I wasn’t friends with him before. And he likes to try new things, which makes my daily challenge easier.” He grinned at her and she grinned back knowing he referred to her dare. “Maybe all this time, you’re the one who found him irritating, and I just went along with it like a good little best bud.”

“Ha ha.” Laurel said sarcastically. “Fine, but he’s your problem.”

“Laurel,” he started, but stopped, not sure if he was brave enough to carry on.

But Laurel had heard, so she pointedly waited for him.

“Laurel, he’s your brother.” He said.

She had poured the coffee and was about to come back to the couch, but stopped and deliberately put the cups down again, then putting her hands on her hips.

“What does that mean?” she inquired, voice dangerously quiet.

Chris swallowed. “Look I can see things are tense between you two, and I’m not asking why, but he isn’t trying to get on your nerves. He wants to make right, or something, and he doesn’t know how. That’s why he always invites us out. It’s you he’s asking, I’m just a consolation prize.”

Laurel stared at him blankly. “Firstly; since when did start understanding people? Secondly; he gets on my nerves because he is inherently annoying.”

Christian shrugged now, ignoring the first question. “Aren’t all siblings annoying? I mean, here you are bitching at him almost all the time, and he still made us butternut soup last night.”

“We have to get along because he cooks for us?”

“No, just stop hating him. Stop saying ‘no’ just because he’s the one asking.” Chris tried to put some meaning into his words. “He is trying, Laurel.”

Laurel was quiet for a long time, then slowly brought the cups over to the couch again. She seemed calm.

“Since when are you so perceptive?” she asked.

Chris shook his head, because he didn’t really think he was, at least not more so than before. Maybe the difference was that he was speaking up about it. That was certainly different. When Laurel had met him, he could barely put two words together, never mind a sentence.

“Alright, I hear what you’re saying, and I’ll take it under advisement.” She conceded at his silence. Chris smirked and tried to cover it with a sip of coffee, but he felt like he had achieved something good.

“Good, because you two are giving me a headache.”

“I maintain that I was not the one who extended the season pass invitation on our apartment.”

“One of us had to appear civil.”

“I’m civil. Especially when Brendan’s not in the room.”

“Laurel.”

Laurel smirked. “I’ll try ok? That’s all I can say at this stage.”

Christian figured it was better than nothing.