The Christmas Ball

by Lily Seabrooke

  I clenched my fists. “Seth, why are you following us out here?”

  “Lisette, mi amor, I’m the one who invited you out here, aren’t I? The question is, why did you bring my headstrong, spiteful little cousin?”

  Because I loved her, dammit. I didn’t know why I kept thinking that—I had no idea what love really was—but every time I looked at Alice I just thought there was no way to describe the connection other than I love her so much.

  “What do you want, Seth?” I muttered.

  “I just want to know what’s going on,” he said, his voice all mock concern, a hand to his chest. “Is something happening between you and Roger you feel the need to go on a fling with… with… Alice?”

  My heart squeezed like a vice. “It’s not—”

  “Seth, for crying out loud,” Alice spat. “Is this really what you’re about? You’re trying to be some kind of cool lady-killer, but you’re such a fuckup, so desperate you have to haunt a pretty girl and harass her in hopes she’ll finally look at you? I’d ask do you have no other options, but looking at you? I can see why women wouldn’t be lining up.”

  He barely looked at her. “I don’t know how far you want to push it, dear cousin. I wonder what might happen if I told Aunt Gina about this?”

  “This, nothing,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’m not—we’re not on a fling.”

  “Oh? A deep, developed lesbian relationship, then? Or are you going to tell me you’re just kissing each other as friends?” He shook his head. “I should have known once I saw Alice’s hands all over you. Should have guessed she’d end up a lesbian. Not like she could find a man in the world to put up with her.”

  I struggled just to breathe right. “Seth, what do you want?”

  “I want to help you, my dear Lisette,” he said. “My cousin—I don’t think I could recommend her, even if you were a man. I wouldn’t let her lead you down that path, if I were you.”

  “Seth—” Alice started, her voice shaking.

  “What path?” I shook my head. “You mean, as a lesbian? Because I’m sorry, Seth, mi amor, but I’m guessing I’ve slept with twice as many women as you have.”

  “Lisette,” Alice choked, looking up at me.

  “And quite frankly, my dear Seth, if you really wanted to try seducing me straight, I don’t think you’ll get very far by insulting my girlfriend right in front of me. And her.”

  Seth straightened his back, his expression darkening. “Don’t make me make this painful, Lisette. I care for you, truly, and I don’t want to hurt you, but I’ll step in if it means I can help.”

  “Step in? Help me with what? Having a girlfriend who cares for me? I think I’m doing just fine.”

  He cringed at the word girlfriend. I wanted to slap him back into the side of the car. “Lisette, I know your parents are—traditional. I wouldn’t tell them about this. I know this isn’t your fault. That my cousin was the one to lead you on.”

  “Excuse me?” I took a step forwards, and he took a step back. “I’ll have you know, I’m the one who made a move on her. And she’s far from the first woman I’ve cared for.”

  He cleared his throat. “But I’m more than willing to tell her parents. Or Gina. Yes, Gina sounds good. She can keep the two of you apart. Anything to keep her off of you—”

  I grabbed him by the collar. By now I was so blistering mad I could barely even see straight. “I am not some innocent little baby being led on. I’m a grown woman capable of making my own damn decisions. Are we clear?”

  He shook his head. “Lisette—my dear Lisette, I can’t remember you ever being so violent before—”

  I slammed him back against the car before someone grabbed me from behind, around the waist—I whirled around and shoved, and only realized what I was doing once Alice fell backwards with a gasp into the snow.

  “Alice,” I gasped, dropping next to her. “Jesus, I’m sorry, are you—”

  “Lisette, I’m giving you a chance,” Seth said. “Why not just make this easier for everyone—”

  “Seth, just go,” Alice grunted, holding onto my arms as I helped her up. “Next time you want a girlfriend, try something other than coercing and threatening her.”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Alice,” he snapped. “Are you ready to bear the consequences of what this will do to you? You know what will happen if this gets out, don’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sure Mom and Dad will be disappointed,” she spat. “And I’m sure everyone would love to know about the people you’ve cheated on, too.”

  He snorted. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Am I threatening you?”

  “Seth,” I said, my voice shaking. The anger had mingled with crushing guilt in my stomach, and I wasn’t sure if I was about to snap or start crying. “Please. Just go.”

  “Lisette, you can make this all better,” he said. “Just like that. Give me another try. No one has to find out about this.”

  I shook my head. “I said, go.”

  Seth sighed. “Lisette… I understand you’re emotional right now. Come back to me later if you’ve changed your mind. Otherwise…”

  “Go,” I said, and he shook his head, spun on his heel and walked away. Once he’d gotten back to the road, climbed into a car and pulled away, I sank against the side of my car, putting a hand to my forehead.

  “Lisette,” Alice said, and I shook my head.

  “Alice, I’m so sorry.” My voice shook as badly as my hands were. “I’m so sorry.”

  She threw her arms around me, burying her face in my collar. “Please don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

  “I didn’t—did I hurt you?” My voice cracked. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, I’m—I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that when I knew you were angry. You didn’t really hit me, it just… surprised me.”

  I squeezed her so tight my arms hurt, buried my face in her shoulder. “Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I should have known better than to… take you out here in public and… god, this is all my fault.”

  My stomach was churning. It felt like I was about to throw up. Alice kissed my shoulder. “This isn’t your fault, Lisette. I was the one who suggested it this time. And if you think I regret last time we came out here…”

  “I’ve put everything at risk for you now,” I rasped. “Your tuition—”

  “Please don’t worry about that right now. Let’s just… get back home.”

  “What if Seth already told—”

  “He won’t. Not until he’s really desperate. He’s too cowardly.”

  “What are we going to do?” I choked. “I can’t risk your… everything. I can’t take it all away from you.”

  She took my hands, squeezed them. “Let’s just get back home. Please. I… I need to sit down.”

  I helped Alice into the car, sat down in the driver’s seat and somehow managed to get all the way back to the manor. The silence in the car was unbearable, but I didn’t feel like there was anything I could say. The guilt was still crushing my chest, like an enormous hand around me, making it hard to breathe.

  No one got in our way as we got back—a couple people still up late, but they barely regarded us as we slipped in and back upstairs. Everyone knew Alice and I spent all our time together. And everyone would be, I was sure, horrified to learn the truth about us.

  I didn’t cry until we got back to our room, where I sank down onto the bed and buried my head in my hands. Alice pulled me into a tight embrace, running her hands through my hair, stroking my back, comforting me like I was the one in danger here.

  “Alice—please,” I said finally, pulling away from her. “I shouldn’t be the one crying. You’re the one—”

  She swallowed. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll figure something out. I’ll be okay.”

  “Please don’t pretend to be okay. There’s
no reason for you to feel okay with all this. This is unfair. This is—”

  “Sweetheart—Lisette—I know. I just…” She shivered. “I just don’t want to lose you…”

  “But I—your tuition. Your family. Your life.”

  She sighed, a short, exhausted sigh. “So what? What can we even do? What do you intend to do? Are you going to go date Seth instead?”

  “God, not that. Just… there has to be something. I can’t do this if it means taking your future away from you.”

  “But you—” she choked, taking my hand. “I want you to be part of my future…”

  “I know. Alice, I know. I do too. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before, Alice. I care for you. And I just… what if that means I have to—”

  “Have to what? Have to what?” She looked up at me with wild eyes. “Have to leave me? Is that where you’re going, Lisette? That’s not going to protect me!”

  I swallowed hard. “I just—I can’t do this to you!”

  “Why not? I thought—I thought love was about sacrifice!”

  “Alice, you’ve still only just met me, you shouldn’t throw everything away so easily. It’s not love.”

  I didn’t think I’d ever said anything so horrible. To her, perhaps, but absolutely to me. I regretted it as soon as I said it, but I stuck with it.

  She looked up at me, tears in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks, and then she looked back down. “Is that… is that it? Is that what you’re going to say?”

  “It’s not that I want to be saying it, but—”

  “But it’s what you’re saying.” Her voice cracked with a sob. I put a hand on her back, but she pushed me away. “Forget it. I’m… I’m going on a walk.”

  “Alice,” I started.

  “Get some sleep.” She stood up. “We can figure this out tomorrow. I need to… I need to walk.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head, walked out of the room without a word, and once the door latched shut behind her, I broke down.

  God. She’d only just walked out that door and I already missed her more than anything in my life.

  Chapter 17

  Alice

  I sat outside, my coat pulled tight around me, staring up to the night sky. The million stars that had watched over me and Lisette on the lake, just an hour ago but it was in a different lifetime now. Now the stars only watched, cold, merciless, mocking.

  Lisette was so terrified of hurting me she was going to push me away to stop herself from it. Right. Because that made sense. Because her pushing me away wasn’t the most painful thing possible.

  She was right. I’d only just met her, even if I did like her ten years ago, too. This wasn’t love. It shouldn’t have been love. The fact that I loved her was ridiculous. And obviously she didn’t love me. She barely even had any romantic attraction.

  I couldn’t blame her, though. It was stupid of me to fall in love with her that easily.

  I knew she was going to leave me. She was going to pretend it was for my own good. I’d suggest we could just hold off until break ended, but she’d still be terrified of someone finding out about us. Seth telling my parents or something stupid. She’d tell me we had to have a clean break for my own good.

  God, it was cold out. My tears were like little balls of ice slipping down my face. I hated the cold. I hated Christmas and winter and all this stupid nonsense. I wanted to go home. Back to my roommate, tell her nothing had happened and that I hadn’t fallen in love and gotten my heart broken.

  I shivered. I was going to catch a cold. I headed back inside, went to the home library, and curled up on the sofa, pulling up three blankets and still wearing my coat. I still shivered well into the night. I hated the cold.

  Somehow, though, I managed to sleep. I didn’t dream anything, but at some point, I woke up and it was five o’clock, so I figured I’d fallen asleep at some point.

  I didn’t move. I wasn’t going to fall asleep again, but I didn’t have anywhere I wanted to go.

  I checked my phone. Sure enough, I had some texts from Lisette, sent well into the night.

  Alice, you’re wonderful, you’re perfect. I don’t think I can give you what you’re looking for.

  I’m not like you are. I’m barely in control of my life. I’m probably only going to hurt you at this rate.

  You deserve better than me.

  Of course. I slipped my phone into my pocket, curled up on the sofa. You deserve better than me. What a cheap shot. Let me break your heart, but do it with an implied compliment.

  She was right, though. Not that I deserved better than her, because goddamn it, I didn’t, but… it wasn’t love. It shouldn’t have been love.

  I’d only just met her. This wasn’t love. This shouldn’t have been love.

  Dammit. I buried my face in the blankets and cried my bloody little heart out, because I did love her, and not only did I just get pushed away, I couldn’t even tell anyone that I’d loved her. That I really had loved her.

  I put up a note on the studio door that said Lisette and I wouldn’t be leading any dances today, and I took a shower and left the manor before sunrise, stepping out back and into the woods, just following a worn little trail. It led me on for a long time, until finally, I was sitting on a snowy stump with red berries all around, and I watched the sunrise.

  God, I wanted to watch the sunrise with Lisette. I felt so cold and empty sitting here by myself. I broke down, crying under the sunrise, crying harder than I think I’d ever cried, all alone—all alone.

  ∞∞∞

  I’d avoided Lisette all day. How was I supposed to face her again? I’d break down. And either she would too, or I’d be hurt more if she didn’t.

  I spent most of my time outside. I walked for an hour and a half to get to a café, where I sat and ate a long, slow breakfast. I spent a while there before I went to the coffee shop and spent a while there, instead.

  I kept getting messages, messages from Henry and from Aunt Gina and from my dad, but none from Lisette. I didn’t even read any of the others.

  Not until one showed up from a number I didn’t have saved. I almost swiped it away seeing an unfamiliar number, figuring my mom had gotten some relative I couldn’t pick out in a police lineup to text me, but I caught the first line before I could swipe it off.

  Aunt Alice, it’s Rhys, are you okay?

  I opened the message and stared at it. God, I was proud of her. Another message showed up while I was staring.

  Lisette was crying too… did you break up?

  I swallowed. At least Lisette crying gave me some sort of sick satisfaction. I texted back.

  She told me she doesn’t think we should be together anymore.

  I almost laughed. Rhys was half my age and here I was, sharing my dating woes with her. But just because she was young didn’t mean she was stupid. She was wiser and more mature than most of the adults.

  How come? Rhys sent back.

  It’s complicated. I left it at that for a good few minutes, and Rhys didn’t reply. Eventually, I sighed so hard the person at the next table looked up at me, and I texted again. Sorry, I didn’t mean to dismiss you. Seth found out about us and threatened to tell everyone because he wanted Lisette to be with him instead. And Lisette is trying to protect me.

  It was a few minutes before Rhys replied, Why would he do that? That’s so stupid. Why would that make Lisette want to be with him?

  I laughed. Rhys was definitely smarter than Seth, but that was a low bar. He’s an idiot, I sent, and then a second later, Don’t tell him I said that.

  But don’t you love her?

  My heart jumped in my chest. God, I was not about to sit here and explain the complexities of love. But… did it have to be complex?

  Why on earth did we have to make everything complicated?

  Of course I do, I replied, my hands shaking as I sent it. I tried to tell myself it was just cold in here.

  Of course I did.

  And
that was that.

  Chapter 18

  Lisette

  I’d broken myself completely.

  I sat in the middle of festivities, a big breakfast where everyone was laughing, kids were sharing jokes, Rose and another girl arguing over the mechanics of Santa scaling roofs, two people yelling over whether you were supposed to put butter on your toast before putting jam, and I was just sitting there next to an empty seat. I barely tasted the food.

  I loved her. That was something I knew, but didn’t dare admit even to myself, and now that she was gone, I knew it as well as I knew the sun rose and set and the seasons changed from fall to winter to spring again. I loved Alice, and I’d sent her away.

  It was for her own good. I tried to tell myself that, but it didn’t seem like I was listening.

  I had no idea where she’d gone, but I didn’t think I was in any place to call her and ask. So she was just gone. There was some tutting about it, and Seth gave me a smirk that I just wanted to slap off his face. She’d put a note on the studio canceling the dance for today.

  How were we supposed to dance tomorrow? I’d never be able to look Alice in the eye now, let alone dance with her.

  So we went right to the singing practice with Rhys and Rose. And I tried to act cool about it. When Rhys asked where Alice was, I just shrugged and said she’d gone on a walk this morning, and insisted we get started on the song, and I got halfway through We Three Kings before I broke down, choking on all the tears I’d held back.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and I left. And that was the singing practice for the day.

  I was standing alone in the kitchen, making coffee, figuring I could just sit alone in my room and stare into the distance and wait for some kind of relief—when I heard footsteps behind me. Somehow I just knew who the bastard was before I even turned and fixed him with the most poisonous glare I could manage.

  Seth leaned against the counter, giving me a sympathetic look. “Did she leave you?”

  “Seth, get out of my face.”