The Christmas Ball

by Lily Seabrooke

  © 2019 Lily Seabrooke

  lilyseabrooke.com

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

  lily@lilyseabrooke.com

  Cover design, formatting and typesetting are products of the author. For more information, contact above email address.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to real events or people, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  Published through Amazon, with love.

  The Christmas Ball

  By Lily Seabrooke

  For everyone who dreams of love unforgettable

  Chapter 1

  Alice

  I handed my roommate a kitchen knife. “Use this to gut me and make it look like an accident.”

  She took it, turned it over her hands, and handed it back to me. “It’s a table knife, Alice. I couldn’t manage that if I wanted to.”

  “Please try your best.”

  She shook her head. “Look, I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

  I looked around at the cramped apartment near university we’d been sharing all year, my stuff packed up into a suitcase. I’d been a little annoyed with this place more than once, but oh my god was I going to miss it over this next month.

  “It’s going to be that bad,” I said. “I don’t think you know what this is. It’s not just a Christmas party. It’s the once-every-ten-years, we have to hook up our kids with the other rich family, party. They already have a guy picked out they’re going to try to get me hitched with.”

  She paled. “Wait, they don’t know you’re a lesbian?”

  “With those people?” I laughed awkwardly. “I haven’t even gotten around to telling them I’m in STEM. They don’t think it’s women’s work.”

  “And now you’re going to their hookup Christmas party to get your man you haven’t seen in ten years.”

  I didn’t mind the whole thing about not having seen them in ten years. I mean, that could be kind of romantic. But I really hoped it wouldn’t feel romantic, because I was going to see Lisette again there, and it was probably going to feel weird.

  I was twelve then. Lisette had been my practice partner, a girl to safely rehearse the dance with before dancing at the Christmas ball with the guy they’d picked out for me. The only problem was that twelve-year-old me had had one dance with Lisette and said to herself, wow, I guess I like girls instead of boys.

  Even ten years later I had never crushed on someone as hard as I had on Lisette as a little girl. Of course, if I’d told anyone, I would have probably torn both our families in half with the shock and horror, and thankfully even at twelve years old I was cognizant enough to keep my mouth shut. She’d been my first crush, and I’d hoped to leave her there in the nostalgic childhood crush folder where her character wouldn’t be touched, but now I’d have to go and interact with her again? She’d probably be preaching for me to go find a man so we could seal the covenant and love Jesus or whatever it is those people got married for, and then my perfect image of her would be ruined.

  But as much as that sucked? That was probably the least of my concerns.

  “It’s going to be a month of hiding as much as I can, going to ladies’ social events to gossip, going Christmas shopping and trying to find out what kind of stuff straight people buy at Hallmark for Christmas—”

  “Can’t you just not go?”

  I laughed awkwardly. “They’re, uh, kinda paying my tuition. And I’d be in hot water if I made them mad.”

  Her face fell. “I understand the knife now. Sorry I don’t have the guts to spill your guts.”

  I drew my mouth up in a tight line. “Don’t worry, soldier. I’ll return stronger from the war. And I won’t have to do this again until I’m thirty-two, at which point I’ll probably have a wife and not give a damn what they think.”

  She smiled weakly. “Good luck. I look forward to meeting your new husband in the spring.”

  I cringed. “Oh, god. Don’t say that. It’s probably going to be Henry again, unless he got a girlfriend. They made me dance with him last time, and at the end of the dance, you’re supposed to kiss. Just on the cheek, unless you really want to show you want to get married. But I pushed him away and said I don’t wanna kiss you!” I cleared my throat. “Very loudly. Normally everyone gets up and sings a choir at the end of it, but it was just dead silent that time. My parents never let me live that down.”

  She laughed. “You know, that’s so you. Did you know already you didn’t like boys?”

  I looked away. “Yeah, actually…”

  “Well, you survived it once knowing you were a lesbian, so you can do it again.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “Godspeed, Alice.”

  I gave her a hug, squeezed her tight. God, I wished I could just fast-forward to when I saw her again, when I’d be squeezing her again saying good lord somehow I’m alive.

  If, at the end of all this, I was alive.

  ∞∞∞

  The drive to my parents’ place was a good ten hours—honestly, as far as they’d let me go for college—and every hour seemed to pass slower than the last one, as I drove through the wispy late-November snow, dry and powdery and shimmery on the roads. Good old Michigan snow. Everything was a little more depressing in Michigan.

  The feeling I got when I saw my family’s house, that feeling that was somewhere between nostalgia and dread, it squeezed in my stomach, and I took a deep breath to center myself. Here I was. I was going to survive this, one way or another.

  I pulled up into the courtyard, and I barely got a chance to start a text before the front door swung open and out came my aunt, a tall and stringy woman with long and stringy brown hair, kind of like mine if you put it in the dehydrator for long enough. My heart sank. What a person to greet me.

  I stepped out of the car with a heavy heart and good old Aunt Gina came at me with a hug that crushed the life out of me—she was way stronger than she looked. “Alice!” she cried. “Oh, my goodness, it’s so wonderful to see you again! It’s been so long!”

  She said that every single year. She seemed to be consistently surprised by the length of a year, as if they weren’t pretty much all the same length.

  “Hi, Aunt Gina,” I said, giving her the most halfhearted hug I thought I could get away with.

  “How have you been? You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

  Getting right to the important questions. “No, ma’am. Nothing of the sort.”

  And if I had any say in the matter, that was not going to change any time soon.

  “Oh, well. Of course, you’d have brought him if you did! I don’t know why I asked.” She laughed. She asked that every year, though. I had to wonder at what point she’d figure out why she was asking. “Well, don’t worry. I hear Henry is still single, and he’s become quite a handsome man. I certainly don’t think there will be any repeats of last time!”

  She threw her head back to laugh. I mustered up all my might to smile instead of cringe. Right. Sure. Because I totally wanted to kiss him now.

  She ushered me along inside the house, a whirlwind of activity, people packing, people yelling, all of them stopping to give me a hug and make sure I didn’t have a boyfriend. I felt like I was going down a checklist—say hi to Mom, say hi to Dad, say hi to John, say hi to Ethan, say hi to Uncle Paul, say hi to Uncle Brian. I was breathless by the time I was done, and kind of wishing I’d brought a button that said I DON’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND. It would have saved me a lot of breath.

  I really wondered if I should have just pretended to have a boyfriend, but the number of questions they’d ask, the requests to meet him, demanding to see p
hotos, trying to look him up on Facebook, it all would have been too much effort. So here we were.

  Maybe after graduating, I’d just be able to say, by the way, I’m gay, and dance away without needing their stupid tuition money. It was that one thought I was looking forward to keeping me alive through this.

  “Here, sweetie, take this box,” Aunt Gina said, piling what was definitely not one box but four into my arms. “Help me load up the car. We’ll head over there a little early, since you’ve come traveling so light.”

  I was a scrawny thing, five foot five and definitely not much in the muscles department. Packing up Aunt Gina’s car left me sweaty and breathless, and I dropped myself in the passenger seat as she started the car.

  “The Fowlers have already gotten the property secured, so there’s already some of them waiting for us. I think Henry’s there right now too.”

  “Oh,” I said, sounding way less enthusiastic than I tried to. “That’s great.”

  “Oh, I know you’re nervous dear, but just wait until you meet him. He’s so charming.” She pulled out of the driveway, set the navigation. Fifty-six minutes. Kill me now, I thought. “He’s been getting his degree in business communications, so he’ll be a reliable husband. And won’t be intimidated by your degree, I hope!”

  I couldn’t believe I was around people who had to worry who would be intimidated by educated women. “Well… that’s great,” I said. “I just don’t know if I’m looking for a man right now.”

  Or ever.

  She frowned. “You’re already twenty-two, Alice! You’re going to graduate soon. And then what are you going to do?”

  I shrugged. “I mean, I was figuring I’d just work for a while… build a career?”

  “Oh, yes, it’s wonderful to get some working experience. But you should still be finding a man while you’re young!”

  The car ride just went on. From the way she was talking, I would think this fifty-year-old woman was the one who wanted to bang Henry. And as far as I was concerned, she could have him.

  Still, once the insufferably long hour passed and we pulled up to the manor—because there wasn’t any word big enough for it except manor, a straight-up Victorian manor right here in rural Michigan—I felt a weird sense of nostalgia not like the kind at the family house. I had had fun here last time, as a little girl. It had been running around a lot, putting up a lot of Christmas decorations, eating a lot of good food, and dancing a lot with my first crush. What else could a little girl want?

  We pulled up and stopped in front of the enormous front doors, and Aunt Gina all but scrambled out of the car. I couldn’t believe the sheer energy in this woman. I was half her age and half her energy. Maybe because I was already exhausted from acting straight, and I hadn’t even started.

  I opened the side door, climbed out and stretched my back, stretched my legs, rolled my shoulders. The ten hours by myself listening to Lady Gaga felt like half the time as the one hour listening to Aunt Gina.

  “We can unpack the stuff in a minute,” Aunt Gina said. “Let’s go inside and see who’s home already. I hope Henry’s here.”

  I bit back a sigh and took the steps up onto the porch, raised my hand to knock on the front door, and pulled my hand back when it swung open just before I could knock.

  And I froze.

  It swung inward, to where a blonde woman stood in the doorway, tall and slender, with sparkling forest-green eyes, wearing a red dress and a shimmery crystal barrette in her short hair. I stopped, my heart missing a beat, missing the next one too.

  She was gorgeous. I didn’t think I’d ever even met someone this beautiful. But that wasn’t it.

  She was Lisette.

  She stared at me with her mouth hanging open a little, and I felt my legs go weak. Shit. I wasn’t planning on this. The last thing I wanted was for Lisette to be this breathtaking. I hadn’t expected her to grow up like this.

  “Alice,” she breathed. Like I was the most fascinating thing.

  Her voice was as clear and pure as anything in the world. God, I was not going to be able to handle this. “Lisette,” I said, and that was it. That was about all I could manage.

  “Oh, yes!” Aunt Gina jerked me out of my reverie. Ugh. I’d forgotten she was here. “You were paired together last time, too! Isn’t this wonderful? I was thinking, why not the two of you again this time?”

  “Huh?” I whirled on Aunt Gina. Lisette stepped back, giving her an incredulous look too. “You mean—as my dancing partner and—”

  “Yes, of course! Isn’t it a lovely thing?”

  “And…” Lisette started, looking away, “share the same room, again?”

  “Of course! You know, even in this place, there’s only so many bedrooms.” She laughed. I looked up at Lisette, and when she looked back at me—when she made eye contact—I felt myself go weak.

  I was done for. I was so done for.

  Chapter 2

  Lisette

  I had come to expect a lot of things from this runaround, madcap event. The Fowlers were not a peaceful people. They’d scheduled me for so many violin shows for the family I was afraid my heart was going to give up getting blood to my hands before long, and of course, since I didn’t have a boyfriend—fat chance of me ever telling them the truth—they wanted to set me up to dance with one of the Richmond’s bachelors. And I was already bracing for it to be that greasy Seth guy again.

  I’d come in expecting a lot, but I saw Gina for one second and she’d already completely gone beyond my expectations.

  Alice Richmond. I mean, of course I knew she’d be here, but—I wasn’t thinking about that. I was trying my best not to think about her, hoping she and I would be in different places for the majority of it, that I’d only have to see her in passing. I was praying she’d show up with a boyfriend, or, hell, given what her family was like, a husband and a kid, even though she was just the same age I was.

  But no, here she was right in front of me. And god help me, she was beautiful.

  I’d heard the noise outside, gone to open the door, and the breath had left me when I’d pulled it open to see her standing there. She was shorter than I was—we’d been around the same height ten years ago, but I’d grown out to almost five ten, and she’d fallen behind. Between that and standing down on the stoop, she craned her neck to look up at me.

  She was enchanting, everything about her—dark brown eyes, long chestnut hair in waves down to her chest, where it faded to an ashy brown at the tips. She had a tiny smattering of freckles, round cheeks, and her eyes glimmered in the light of the foyer chandelier. I swear, her standing there with snowflakes in her hair, shivering in a dark blue coat, I think I forgot who or where I was for a second.

  All I’d managed was to breathe her name, a whisper so small the breeze almost stole it away. And she’d said my name, just so softly, like the sight of me was incredible.

  And then Gina told me I’d be sharing a room with her. And dancing with her. Every day.

  So there I was, standing with her in the foyer after we’d all helped bring the stuff in out of the car. Gina had run off into the back of the house, and with just the two of us, I couldn’t really avoid talking to her anymore.

  I brushed at my dress, took a deep breath. “So,” I said. I had to work to keep my voice steady. I hated how beautiful she’d turned out. “It’s good to see you again, Alice. You’ve certainly… grown.”

  Right. Because she doesn’t know that. She thinks she’s still twelve years old. Smooth, Lisette.

  Her cheeks were still red from the cold, and she looked down with her hands clasped at her waist, and god if it wasn’t just the most adorable thing. “You too. You, um… you look beautiful.”

  Christ, I thought. My parents would be so upset to know I’d used the lord’s name in vain, especially in response to a huge crush on a girl. I could just picture my mom’s angry squint, the same as always, squinting until you couldn’t see her eyes anymore. But I figured they wouldn’t find out a
ny time soon. “I don’t know about that much,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “But thanks. You do, too.”

  She looked up and met my gaze with the biggest Bambi eyes, and said, “You think?”

  Christ. I was on a roll. At this rate, I wouldn’t last a day around Alice. “Y-yeah,” I said, stammering for I think the first time in a year. I was glad no one was around to hear that. No one except the person I had a crush on, of course. “But I imagine you’re tired. Let me show you your room.”

  I’d said your room as if it wasn’t our room. And then I had to lead her upstairs, lead her to my bedroom, because that didn’t feel weird.

  “Oh,” she said when I let her inside. It was a pretty room, white walls and white carpet, a bed with pale blue sheets, blue-and-gold curtains drawn back just enough to show the snowflakes swirling down in the woods behind the house. “It’s lovely. Uh…”

  She stepped in ahead of me, turned, and then she stiffened.

  “W-well,” she blurted, “I guess… you were here first, so you can have the bed.”

  I felt a wave of relief she wasn’t up to sharing the bed any more than I was. Still, I followed her in, closed the door, and said, “You can have the bed. I’m comfortable with the floor.”

  “What? No way.” She looked me over. “You’re so skinny, you’ll never conserve any body heat.”

  I flushed. So did she. She put a hand over her mouth.

  “Oh… my gosh. I’m sorry. That was a weird thing to say. I’m sorry, I can never control the things I’m saying.”

  She really was the exact same as back then. I wondered if she remembered when she’d said I want to have the last dance with you.

  I swallowed. “I’ll be fine on the floor, really. I’ve done it before.”

  “I’ve slept on the floor a million times,” she said. “This is so crazy, though. I can’t believe there’s just one bed and… I should ask if there’s an air mattress for me to sleep on or something.”

  I looked away. “I… think they’d just tell you to share the bed. Which—”