The Christmas Ball

by Lily Seabrooke

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know it must hurt you, but this is for the best.”

  I shook. “Seth, you don’t want me to repeat the drink incident. This one might put you in the hospital.”

  He paled, took a step back. “You’re not taking it very well, are you? Have you really never been with a man?”

  “I don’t know if you actually think saying that kind of thing is making things better, but just for the record? It isn’t. And I mean both for my emotions, and for your chances of getting dashed with hot coffee. Get out of my face.”

  “I’m just saying, I’ll be right here if you need comfort. I’m always on your side, Lisette, my dear.”

  “Seth?” I picked up my coffee and he took two steps back, but I turned to the door. “I wish I never had to see you again.”

  I walked out of the room, up the stairs, and into our room. My room. I didn’t know where she even slept last night. She wasn’t mine anymore.

  I was sitting there for an awfully long time. I think. Time kind of slipped away, started to lose meaning. I drank the coffee slowly, and aside from muffled conversation and laughter from downstairs, there was nothing. No sound. No movement. No life.

  I was alone. I was alone, like I was always going to be.

  There was a knock at my door, and I set down the coffee. “Seth, if that’s you, I am not opening that door.”

  “Seth? Lisette, why would Seth be knocking on your bedroom door?”

  I froze. That was not who I was expecting. That was my mom.

  I looked myself over. I’d been crying, but I didn’t think my makeup had run. I probably looked fine. I took a deep breath, stood up and opened the door, to where my mom was, of course, squinting at me.

  “He’s been harassing me lately,” I said. “I don’t know how to get him to leave me alone.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “He likes you, doesn’t he? You know how men are.”

  I sighed. “I don’t think he does. I think he just likes the way I look. And even if he did like me, I don’t like him. He hurt Alice and she’s…” I swallowed. “She’s my best friend.”

  She studied me for a while before she let her shoulders drop with a harrumph. “Fine. All right. Can I come in?”

  To say I was self-conscious letting my mom into Alice’s and my room would have been an understatement. Still, she made a beeline for the armchair and sat down, folding her arms in her lap. I sat down on the edge of the bed, my thoughts churning. How was I supposed to explain the state I was in? I couldn’t really say I’d just broken my heart breaking up with Alice.

  “So, Lisette, you had another fight,” she said, and I flinched.

  “With Seth? I-I guess. He was—”

  “Not with Seth. I can tell you don’t care about him. I mean with Alice. What’d you do?”

  I stiffened. “A fight with… what do you mean?”

  “Oh, don’t be daft. You’re my daughter, Lisette, I know what’s on your mind. You’re scared of making friends and I had no idea you would connect so easily with Alice. I’m upset you’re not going to get with Seth after all—I feel like you’re never going to get married at this rate—but I was hoping at least you’d keep this up with you and Alice.”

  I flushed. I really doubted she meant the things she was inadvertently saying. She didn’t seem to know exactly what was on my mind, no matter if I was her daughter.

  “I mean, I was really happy to see her again,” I mumbled. “And she’s a really good friend.”

  “Right, right.” She waved me off. “So what did you do?”

  I swallowed hard. “It’s… it’s a long story.”

  “All right.” She crossed her legs, leaned back. “I’m listening.”

  Crap. I had to improvise. “It’s, uh… it’s because of Seth. I mean, it’s my fault, too, but it’s because of Seth. He’s been at her throat all this time because he wants me to spend time around him instead of her.”

  “So, what, you decided to listen? Do they teach you to be a pushover at conservatory?”

  I flinched. “That’s not—I didn’t listen to him.”

  “But you said something to Alice to try putting distance between you, right? So how did you not listen?”

  I cringed. I wished I could just say you don’t understand, it’s so much more than just that, but I had to wonder if that actually changed any of what she was saying. Maybe Seth had just been pushing, and I’d let myself fall over. “He was… threatening her. I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone, but, he had… something… he was going to do to hurt her.”

  She squinted. “Physically? Is he going to start throwing fists in the ballroom?”

  I’d have loved to see him try. I was pretty sure Alice would wipe the floor with him. “No, not physically. But… very severely anyway.”

  She scowled. “So he’s as much of a rat as he looks like?”

  I laughed and stopped myself just as quickly. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

  “Okay. So then Alice said she couldn’t take that risk and she stopped talking to you.”

  I swallowed. “Well…”

  “No, of course not. She has sense. You did this, didn’t you?” She shook her head. “You didn’t want to face the responsibility so you told her to leave.”

  She was as merciless as ever. I winced more with each word. “I knew she’d risk too much for me—”

  “And you didn’t let her? What, because you think you know better than her?”

  I stared. I couldn’t find any words. She just snorted.

  “You’re doing the same thing as always. Condescending, acting like you know better, but you avoid actually getting involved. Lisette, let me tell you something. You’re incredibly smart and you’re beyond talented. I know I don’t tell you this often, but I’m proud of you, even if they don’t seem to be teaching you anything in conservatory. But you have to be willing to take responsibility sometimes. You have to be okay with being the loser sometimes, or you’ll be the loser every time. Understand?”

  I swallowed. “I don’t… know if I do understand.”

  She sighed. “You know you’re good at everything you set your mind to. That’s the problem. You think you’re too good. And you’re terrified of having anything bad on your shoulders. So you ended a friendship without even listening to her because you were afraid of feeling responsible for anything happening to her.”

  I looked down at the floor. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to.

  “Lisette, you’re wonderful.” She stood up slowly. “And I’m proud of you. And I’ll still love you even if you make a mistake. So will we all. So go take a risk for once.”

  You make me want to take risks. I’d said that to Alice. It echoed painfully in my head. “All right,” I said. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She didn’t even look back as she walked through the door, pulled it shut behind her, and left me alone with my coffee.

  It tasted good. That little bit of chocolate syrup, because I had the taste of a kid—it always tasted even better ever since the time Alice brought me one.

  I did love her. I loved her so much it scared me. But that was exactly why I couldn’t afford to hurt her. I knew what she’d say if I asked her.

  But as long as I was here, I wouldn’t be able to keep from getting involved. I loved her so passionately I’d only be able to go so long without falling back into her arms. If she’d have me. If she wouldn’t, that would just make things worse.

  There was only one solution. No matter how much it pissed off my family.

  I would still take responsibility. I would own this mistake.

  I had to leave.

  I felt a strange sense of resolve as I stood up, looked around the room, and slid my suitcase out from under the bed. I was hurting everyone by doing this, not just Alice but everyone, including myself, but at least the pain would be temporary and all upfront.

  I was doing the right thing. I consoled myself in that knowledge as I opened the suitcase
and started to pack away everything I had here, all my clothes. Every piece of clothing Alice had seen me in—each one I took out of the wardrobe and put in the suitcase, it brought me to how Alice had reacted to each one. Which outfits she’d liked the most.

  Because apparently, everything in my life had become Alice. And there was nothing I could do to stop that.

  I worked myself up into a fervor, blinking back tears and telling myself I could cry later. Cry every day for the rest of the year, just about, because I knew I’d never get over Alice. Because I knew I’d spend every day thinking what we could have been like. Because I knew the rest of my life, I’d remember the first person I ever liked, and then ten years later how she was the first person I ever loved, and then how I ended it because I was too weak.

  I was almost done packing the stuff from our room when I found the necklace.

  I grabbed it roughly, ready to fling it into the suitcase, when I noticed what it was. And I looked it over, the red and gold twisting, and slowly, I sank down onto the edge of the bed, just staring at it in my hands.

  Thinking of when she’d pinned it onto me. Thinking of when she’d hid the price, snatched the receipt out from in front of me. Thinking of when she’d put it on me outside the store, and thrown her arms around me. And I thought then there was nothing I wanted more in life than her.

  I’d never in my life wanted anything as badly as I wanted her. In that moment, I would have done anything for her. I think I already loved her then.

  And then I had her. And then I gave her up. And looking at that necklace in my hands, I realized there was still nothing I wanted more in life than her.

  I sank my head into my hands, burying my face into the necklace, and I cried so bitterly I felt the pain of it in my chest, dragging through my lungs.

  I loved Alice.

  And I couldn’t say goodbye.

  Chapter 19

  Alice

  I didn’t notice the day passing, not really. I kind of just meandered around the town for a while. Went window-shopping at the mall. It was kind of funny how, looking back, Lisette and I had had our first date here without even knowing we were dating.

  It was too hard to look at the jewelry shop. I had to hurry past it. I didn’t know why I’d even come here on this stupid tour of everywhere I knew would hurt to look at, but my feet had taken me there and I had no say in it.

  I hadn’t actually used the purse much. I probably wasn’t going to get much use out of it now, either. I figured it would hurt too much to use.

  Somehow, things like that, just wandering through the town and doing nothing, removing myself and being alone in a world of couples and families, the sun dipped low on the horizon. And I just kept wandering, out away from the town, just trudging through the snow.

  And somehow, of all the places, my feet led me to the lake again.

  It wasn’t a short walk, so I knew I couldn’t have just accidentally walked there, but I swear I hadn’t been trying to end up here. I looked out over it, sitting slowly down, brushing the snow off the grass so I’d have a place to sit. I pulled my knees up into my chest, and I stared. I got to watch the sunrise alone, and now I got to watch the sunset alone, here in the place where Lisette and I had kissed the first time.

  The way my heart had soared when she told me, I did bring her. And in that moment, I felt like nothing could ever go wrong.

  I lost track of time, sitting there, feeling the wind blow my hair around my face. And the streaks of icy cold along my cheeks told me I was crying, but I didn’t really feel a lot.

  Lisette had really been special. Even if she was leaving me now, I’d been left by a lot of people. Probably it was something about me. They didn’t usually leave as quickly as Lisette did, but none of them hurt nearly as badly. I was going to have to spend every weekend thinking I could have been in Lisette’s arms, spend next Christmas trudging home to my family and listening to them bemoan me not getting with Henry.

  I sighed. This was ridiculous. It was like she said. I barely knew her. This wasn’t love.

  I picked up a rock, jumped to my feet, and flung it at the lake. It bounced a few times, left a few scratches on the ice, and skidded off to a stop.

  Dammit.

  It was love, and that was why this whole thing sucked.

  I had to leave. I didn’t care. I’d get a ride back to my parents’ house, and I’d get in my car and leave. I didn’t care how pissed they were all going to be, they’d figure something out. They’d deal without me. And sure, they’d send me a bunch of angry messages, but I didn’t give a damn. And I knew Seth wouldn’t do anything, because then he’d be responsible for them losing their last dancer.

  I was leaving. I couldn’t see Lisette anymore. I wouldn’t be able to take it. My mind didn’t work right around her.

  So I was in full rage mode when I spun on my heel and came face-to-face with Lisette.

  “Oh!” I shrieked, jumping, nearly falling back onto the lake. Lisette leaned in, took me around the waist and caught me, and I just gasped for breath, my heart racing.

  I didn’t say anything. Neither did she. She just looked at me with wide eyes, like she was as surprised to see me as I was her.

  “What—what are you doing here?” I blurted, still just leaning like that with Lisette’s arm around me. I was trying to be angry and the way her arm felt around me was getting in the way of that.

  “I was looking everywhere for you,” she said. “I…”

  I blinked, looked down. Away from her eyes. Down to her collar, where, tucked just barely under her coat, was the necklace I’d bought her.

  “You’re wearing the necklace.”

  She pulled me up onto my feet, and I staggered forward into her. She caught me, held me close, and I was still too stunned to say anything, so I just rested my head on her chest.

  “Alice,” she said, and I looked up into her eyes again. “Alice, I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for scaring me out of my mind just now?”

  She laughed quietly. God, I wanted to be mad at her, but the way her breath fogged up in the twilight air as she laughed, the way her arms felt around me, I just wanted to cry. “Sorry for that too. For what it’s worth, it kind of terrified me too when you suddenly whirled around with a look like you were about to kill someone.”

  I laughed and then I hit her on the shoulder. “Dammit, Lisette, don’t make me laugh. I’m trying to be sad. And angry.”

  “Alice, I can’t,” she said, her voice crackling. “I know I—if I’m with you then I’m only going to cause problems, but I… I can’t leave. God, I can’t leave. Please…”

  My stomach tangled up in knots. “Are… are you saying you do want to be together?”

  “I never wanted anything else. I just…” She squeezed me tighter. “I’ve spent all this time afraid I’m going to hurt you, and I felt like I’d finally done it after all. That this was it, that I was going to ruin your life.”

  I pushed out of her embrace, took a step back, looked up at her warily. “You were willing to dump me just because you were afraid you might make me upset? Because it made me pretty upset when you told me to go somewhere else.”

  She hung her head. “No. Not just that. I’m afraid. I’ve been afraid all along because I’m not… I’m falling in love and it scared me. That’s it. That’s the reason. I took an excuse to hide because I was afraid of falling in love.”

  I flushed. “Falling in—”

  “Okay, no.” She shook her head, took a deep breath. “Look, this is weird, okay? I know it’s weird. I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I can’t not say it, Alice, I swear to god I can’t just not say it.”

  My heart was hammering wildly enough I could barely breathe right. “What? Say what?”

  “I…” She swallowed, looked me in the eye, and said, “I love you, Alice. I love you.”

  “Love—” I put my hand to my mouth. “You—”

  “I know. I said all that about how I only just met you
and it’s not love, but I—I was trying to convince myself. And I failed. Completely. I love you. I know it’s not—”

  “God, stop it,” I said through my hand. “Stop. Slow down. I’m—I was trying to be mad at you and you come out here onto the lake with me and you tell me you love me?”

  She nodded. “If it scares you…”

  “Look, the reason this hurt so much, the reason I felt like this just broke me apart, it’s—it’s because I love you and I wasn’t ready to fall in love so quickly or have my heart broken—I love you and I just want to give you my entire heart. I love you.”

  She stared at me, wide-eyed. I looked down at my feet. “You… do?”

  I laughed. “Is it that crazy a thought? I mean, you’re my dream girl. We went over that conversation.”

  She swept me into a crushing embrace, pressing the side of my head against her collar. “God, I love you so much. Is that really okay? I know I hurt you—”

  I sighed, sank into her embrace. Just let her hold me. “You really did,” I breathed. “But… you felt like you were backed into a corner, didn’t you? After everything I said about my tuition, and my family, you must have felt like you had no choice.”

  “I really thought I was doing the right thing. I mean, obviously that’s stupid. I was wrong. I—”

  “All I want is to love you, Lisette,” I whispered. “I forgive you. I understand. Just let me love you and I won’t need anything else.”

  She laughed, and it broke halfway into a sob. “I can’t believe how good you are. Is it behind us? In the past? I—are we…”

  “Girlfriends?” I laughed softly, reaching up to kiss her cheek. “Lovers? If you’ll have me, even knowing I have this baggage.”

  She leaned down and kissed me on the lips, the most tender kiss I’d ever felt. She was clutching at me like I was oxygen, like I was the last water in a desert, like I was her whole world, and I held onto her just the same, kissing back with everything I had. She pulled me in closer, kissed me harder, and I felt the whole world fade away, as it was just me and Lisette—me and Lisette and nothing else mattered. Not Seth, not Aunt Gina, none of my stupid family.