"Merry Christmas!" my dad exclaims, strolling right into my bedroom.

I sit up in bed, lifting my laptop out of the bed and setting it down beside me.

My dad still has his jacket on, and he has a bag slung over his shoulder, meaning that he just got home from the airport.

"Christmas is fucking stupid," I mutter, slipping out of the bed and pulling my glasses onto my face.

I then head for the closet, the light turning on automatically as soon I step inside. I have to walk to the back corner to get to my T-shirt drawer, grabbing a black shirt off the top of the stacks of clothes.

I then head out of the small room back to my bedroom, walking straight to my dad, letting him pull me into a quick hug.

"I know, I know. How have you been, kid?" he asks, pulling back and resting both of his hand on my shoulders.

I give him a small smile, answering by saying, "I've been fine. How was your trip?"

He nudges me in the side, gesturing for me to follow him downstairs. I do, watching as he drops his bag by the stairs before walking down the steps.

Although we agreed not to buy each other any gifts for today, I know my dad is still going to get all sappy and turn the whole day into a 'bonding experience'.

I check my phone to see that it's only eight o'clock in the morning, so when he beelines for the kitchen I can assume that he's going to make breakfast.

He drops his jacket off by the door, and I stand there for a minute, watching as snow begins to fall from the sky.

I'm sure Blossom will be thrilled to see snow on the ground; she's been talking about how she's been hoping for a white Christmas since last year. I then mocked her on it, telling her how in Florida there isn't even the faintest hope for snow.

I head into the kitchen, taking a seat down on one of the stools at the counter.

"What are you making?" I ask him, watching as he moves briskly around the large kitchen.

"Eggs and bacon," he answers. "That's fine with you?"

I nod at him. "Yeah, thanks. Do you need any help?" I ask, and he shakes his head at me, grabbing a package of bacon from the fridge.

He sent me a list of groceries I needed to pick up before the stores close for the holidays, and so as much as I hate grocery shopping, I went to the store and bought him what he wanted.

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from making a snarky comment about how he should just come home for once and do it himself.

"I really don't understand why people who aren't even religious make such a big deal out of such a lame ass holiday," I comment, scrolling through my Instagram feed and getting a little internally pissed off at all the posts of people trying to show off the presents that they've surely just received.

The only photo that actually catches my eye is one posted by Charlie. He has has his arm around Blossom's shoulders and she has a huge smile on her face, one I wish I saw more often.

She doesn't post much on her social media, the only photos really being of her in costume for all the different musicals she's been in.

I find it adorable.

She really does love theatre. I hope she gets into Juilliard. After all the shit that she's been through, she deserves it.

Not to mention that if I got into Columbia, we could be in the same city still. I'd be able to see her even though she's moving to a different country.

A mug of coffee is slid in front of me, no milk or sugar added, just as I like it. I then catch how my dad is staring at me, taking a glimpse at my phone screen.

"Your girl likes Christmas, huh? Guess you've got to change your attitude," he teases, ruffling my hair before heading back over to the stove.

"She's not my girl," I snap at him, and he grins at me, finding my reaction hilarious.

"I'm sure she'd like to be, but from what you've told me, it sounds like you're a total ass to her," he says, grabbing a carton of eggs from the refrigerator.

I stare blankly at him, having to bite down on the inside of my cheek to avoid saying something rude before I think clearly about it.

"Exactly. I'm a fucking asshole to her so I should probably just leave her alone," I eventually huff, and he raises his eyebrows at me.

Drumming his fingers against the countertop, he tells me, "Then make a change. I want to see my son happy, and that girl seems to be the only one who's capable making that happen after everything that's gone on recently."

I take a sip of my coffee, enjoying the way that the scorching liquid burns my tongue, swallowing it before setting the mug down again.

He keeps watching me, and I have to give him the middle finger to make him look away.

"The truth hurts, Bryce. Deal with it," he tells me, cracking a few eggs into a pan on the stove.

I glare at him like the immature child I am, and he chuckles, completely ignoring me.

We eat our breakfast quickly and in silence, and I get up to do the dishes before my dad even gets the chance. He's probably exhausted from his overnight flight, and I'm surprised that he hasn't fallen asleep in his seat yet.

It's just as I'm placing the last knife in the dishwasher that my phone goes off from where it's resting on the counter, and my dad is quick to check the caller ID.

"Really? You have her name as 'Blossom' in your phone?" he asks me, sliding my phone across the table towards me.

I slide the bottom tray of the dishwasher shut before quickly closing the door, grabbing the phone and accepting the call.

"Hi, darling. How are you?" I ask right away, and my dad nearly chokes on his coffee.

I ball up a dirty napkin that was laying around on the counter, tossing it in his face. He catches it, laughing at me as he walks over to throw it in the garbage can.

To both my surprise and distaste, instead of Blossom's voice, I hear the obnoxious high-pitched voice of one of her awful cousins.

"Hey Bryce! Merry Christmas! How's your day so far?" one of them asks, probably the one who was practically sitting in my lap when I was over.

I've hung around a lot of girls that acted like she did around me, but then again, they weren't far too young for me like she is.

When my dad sees my annoyed expression, he cocks his head to the side, and I give him a shake of my own head, promising to explain after.

"Why do you have Lexi's phone?" I ask the girl, walking around the island and into the back living room.

I take a seat on the couch, kicking my feet up on the coffee table.

Blossom would definitely tell me off for it.

She chuckles, and I let out a huff.

"I wanted to talk to you!" she says, and I have to take a deep breath to keep my damn cool.

She's practically a child, Bryce. You can't lose your shit at her.

"Unfortunately the feeling is not mutual," I spit, and my dad seems even more confused as he takes a seat on one of the other couches.

He flicks on the television, muting the sound so it doesn't interrupt my call.

All of a sudden there's a slight commotion from the other end of the line, and I hear the shuffling of footsteps followed by something that sounds like the phone falling to the ground.

"Bryce? Hi. I'm so sorry. Addison took my phone," Blossom's voice cuts in all of a sudden, and I hear the sound of a door closing gently.

"It's all right. I am expecting them to at least start me up another fan club after all they've done, though," I joke, and she giggles.

It's the prettiest and sweetest sound that I've ever heard in my whole entire life.

"They really are driving me mad, Bryce. I love my uncle to death so I don't understand how his spawn are the actual devil. They're leaving on the twenty-eighth, thank God. I really am sorry for interrupting your morning. Merry Christmas by the way," she tells me with a sigh, and I wish I was there with her.

Perhaps I could finally be honest and tell her how I truly feel about her.

"It's really okay, baby. Merry Christmas to you too. How's your morning so far?" I ask her, and she let's out a content little sigh.

I can perfectly picture her twisting her hair around one finger when she answers me. "It's been great! The snow is so pretty! How are you?" she asks me, and I grin at her enthusiasm.

"I've been good. My dad came back today, so I don't have to rely on my imaginary dog to keep me company anymore," I tell her, hoping she'll laugh again.

She does, and I have to bite my lip.

The longer I've been here and the more time I spend with her, the harder it is to be apart from her. I find myself missing her smile like crazy.

"I should probably let you get back to your family," I tell her, and she let's out a quiet sound as if she's pouting.

"All right," she says, sounding a little reluctant. "Please call me back later though."

My hear flutters a little. "Of course, Blossom," I reply, and I resist the urge to say more, suddenly feeling extremely guilty.

She's going to find out eventually. If you piss him off one more time, he's going to just tell her. She'll probably be more lenient if she hears it from you instead. It was a greedy, selfish mistake, and as soon as she knows, she probably won't trust you again.

"Bye, Bryce," she says softly, breaking me from my trance.

"Bye, Blossom. I'll talk to you soon. I promise," I tell her, before hanging up the phone.

"What was all of that about?" my dad questions as I set my phone down beside me.

I let out a sharp laugh, not even sure where to begin with poor Blossom's family mess.

"Lexi and Charlie's uncle and cousins are visiting, and his daughters are obsessed with me. I'm pretty sure they're twelve, so it's pretty creepy, but whatever. Anyway, I was over at Lexi's house a few days ago and we were trying to watch a movie together and I nearly even got to kiss her but then they came in and fucking ruined the moment," I huff, the memory speaking my annoyance all over again.

"Damn, that's rough," he chuckles, leaning back against the couch cushions. I nod at him, and he gives me a sympathetic smile.

"You really like her, huh?" he asks me, and I turn in my seat to stare at him.

Taking a deep breath, I say, "She makes me feel special. I feel like shit for not buying her a present for Christmas, seeing as she loves it so much. I guess there's always next year. Not to mention that whenever she holds my hand, I feel like I'm the luckiest bastard on Earth. I'd do anything for her, but I think I fucked up."

My dad groans. "What did you do this time?"

"If I tell you, can you promise not to give me one of your lectures?" I question, and he rolls his eyes at me.

"Sure, kid. Now spill it."

🌸🌸🌸

Long story short, he didn't keep his promise.

He's been scolding me for acting like an insecure child all afternoon, and I just take the hits, knowing that he's entirely right.

She's going to hate me. I ruined something good for her, and she'll probably never let it go.

It isn't until I agreed to sit and watch a recorded football game with him that he finally lets me catch a break, thankfully.

He's more focused on the game than my personal issues now, and I sit quietly for the whole match despite how bored I am by the sport.

When the game ends, my dad stands up from the sofa. "I know we said we weren't going to buy each other gifts, and we're not really celebrating at all seeing as we didn't even bother with a tree, but I still decided to get you something," he tells me, walking down the hallway.

I begin to scan my mind for possible things that he could have bought me, but I end up drawing a blank.

I still don't have a clue even when he returns, carrying a large box that he then sits down on the table.

"Go on. Open it," he instructs, resuming his spot on the couch.

At first I'm hesitant, but I still reach to open up the flat and long cardboard box. The tape has already been removed from the edges, so I lift the lid open with ease.

Ripping open the layers of bubblewrap, I'm taken back by what I find inside.

"You did not!" I gasp, pulling the acoustic guitar out of the bubblewrap keeping it from breaking.

When I look to my left, my dad is beaming at me.

"Thank you! How did you remember that this is the one I've been looking at?" I ask him incredulously, not sure how he could possibly have remembered.

"I pay more attention to you than you realize," he tells me, and I smile at him, running my finger along the shiny black wood.

"You're the best. Thank you, for everything," I tell him, and he shakes his head at me.

"It's the least I can do. We've had a rough year, and I'm really hoping the next will be a little better," he smiles, and I see the hurt here.

"Me too. I have a good feeling about it," I smile.