I am so incredibly sorry this post is uploaded so late at night. It's past midnight, which means it's officially already day 5 of blogmas, but since I stayed up until 1AM especially for you, I think we can ignore that fact for this one time.
Today I originally wanted to upload my Holiday Reads for you, but my dad decided to drag me out of the house and not let me go back until after sundown. So there I was, nearly crying my eyes out on the extremely grainy and unacceptable quality of my photos, when I thought of something.
A little while ago, I started writing a Christmas story. It is not near finished, and it's not going to be very long, but I think it'd be fun if I'd post it in three or four - or more - parts this blogmas. It's not like a masterpiece or anyting, it's quite cliché, but hey, it's Christmas. Yay or nay? Well, I guess you don't have anything to vote on anymore, because here's the first part, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1
'Emma! Emma, over here!' I hear Julie's voice from behind a wall of people as soon as I step out of the train, onto the platform. I look in the direction where it's coming from and see her hands waving above the heads of many rushed Londoners. I walk her way, meanwhile unintendedly bumping into a business man in suit, an old woman whose groceries nearly drop out of her shaking hands and a mother of three whining children who looks at me as if to say: 'Didn't your mother teach you any manners?' I answer her stare with a mischievous smirk and turn back to the place where I estimate Julie's hands connect to her body, probably dressed in the latest trends. Then, as I jostle through the last row of people that are between me and my best friend, I see her blond hair, perfectly styled as always, blowing up in the wind of the trains that move past. Her gray eyes find mine, and immediately I get that feeling back, that feeling when you know someone so well, no words are needed to know what the other is thinking. God, have I missed that feeling.
'Emma!' Before I realise what is happening, two arms close around me, squeezing me.
'Hi Julie!' I hug her back, eyes closed, trying to remember the last time I hugged anyone this tight.
'Oh my god, I'm so happy to see you!' She releases me from her powerful grip just as I consider telling her she's choking me. 'It's been so long!'
'I know! It's crazy, the last time we went to Harrods together was almost four months ago!'
'Oh, now you're messing with me, Carlsson, now you're messing with me.'
'No, I'm being as serious as one would be when attending their own funeral,' I answer, my voice soaked in sarcasm.
'Well, in that case, madam Carlsson, I think we ought to go there again very soon.' She starts laughing and punches my shoulder.
'Do you even have any money left for that?'
'Probably not, but I'll ask mum to give me my pocket money for March tomorrow.'
'March?! Jeez Louise, Julie, you have been going crazy, haven't you?'
She laughs and rolls with her eyes. 'I'm buying everyone Christmas presents already, so don't blame me on this one.'
'Typically you, always late to school, but the first one to mention Christmas as soon as you take off your Halloween costume. It's only the third of December, hun!' I don't mean this in a figurative sense, one time she asked me what was on my wishlist whilst she was literally taking off her black catsuit, smudged whiskers still flaunting on her rosy cheeks. She rolls her eyes at me once again.
'Don't you dare tell me you aren't excited for Christmas as well, because I know you are.'
'Guilty as charged.'
'Okay, good, now let me help you with those suitcases. Crikey, are you going on a month long trip around the Northpole, that you need this many clothes?'
'You might not be the only one that has spent her all her savings on presents, Jules.'
'Oh?! Carlsson is adjusting to her surroundings then? I thought you were a woman of principles.'
'Maybe, but the shops in Brighton have so little stock that I was forced to buy all of your presents weeks before departure.' Our voices have taken on a posh accent, as they usually do when we have conversations without a clear purpose other than just making fun of each other.
'Let's get moving Em, I'm ridicoulously cold. You made me wait for you for over half an hour.' She grabs one of the two massive suitcases my mum bought for me before the move and starts walking in a seemingly random direction. I take the other one and follow her to what turns out to be the exit of Charing Cross railway station.
'Alright, blame Emma. Just splendid.'
'Emma Carlsson everybody, everyone's favourite fall-guy!'
'You should take that voice to the market, they'll be happy to have you.'
'I would, but I don't think my mum would be too thrilled about that.'
'You haven't changed at all, you know. I thought you would've been different when I came back. But luckily, you're still the same bastard as you were before. Has anyone changed?'
'What, do you mean Emilia, Sarah and Cara? Changed? Nah, didn't think so. Nope, we're all still the same old nerds.' Hearing Julie say the names of our friends sounds weird. We've spoken over the phone countless times, also about them, but it's different in real life. I haven't seen them in six months, and I don't know wether I want to or not. Which is silly, because the five of us used to be so close.
'Grayson has changed.' Julie's teasing voice brings me back to reality.
'What?'
'In a good way, though.' Ah. She's talking about Grayson Maxwell. Extremely handsome guy who used to be in my Latin, French and Physics classes. I have sort of had a crush on him since I was fourteen years old. I turn seventeen next April.
'Well, how has he changed?'
'I knew I'd get your attention. Well, he's dumped that Melanie girl, for one. And he's been going to the gym lots more.'
'Interesting. And may I ask how you have gotten your hands on that information?'
'People tell stories. Most of it isn't true, but sometimes there is a little bit of truth hidden inside all the nonsense.'
'I've missed you, Jules.'
'I've missed you too, Em.'
Outside, we cross the street and head to Julie's apartment, where she lives together with her mother and her little sister. The front door is painted light blue, the door frame a creamy white. The apartment itself hasn't changed apart from a few additions to the walls and, what a suprise, a fully decorated Christmas tree in the far corner of the living room. The apartment is not big, but it's light and nearly all the furniture is either white or grey. In the hallway, the walls are covered with family photos, notes, grocery lists and postcards. A huge tall mirror divides the collage of papers in two. On the right, the hallway opens up into the living room and kitchen, on the left, there are three doors. One leads to the bathroom, another to the laundry room, and the last one leads to a corridor with three more doors, all leading to the bedrooms.
'Come on,' Julie says, as she heads straight for her own bedroom. 'You can drop your things here, and then mum will make us hot chocolate. Do you want some gingerbread cookies? Me and Cathy made them ourselves this morning.'
'I'd love that, I'm starving.' I put my suitcase down in the corner, next to the spare bed, and take off my coat and hat. It's warm inside, and the faint mixed smells of gingerbread cookies and perfume reminds me of the previous winter, when me, Julie and Cara made gingerbread cookies with actual ginger. They didn't taste good, but the smell was heavenly. I walk into the living room and put my shoes next to Julie's.
'Hi Mrs. Wendleton,' I say to the woman in the kitchen. She looks older than I remember, more worn out. Time hasn't been easy on her. She looks at me and smiles.
'Hello Emma, how was your journey?' Her voice is that of a kindhearted person, one who I could always talk to when no one else would listen.
'Very well, thank you. How are you doing?'
'Not bad, not bad at all. How are you? How's Brighton?'
'Not as lonely and abandoned as I expected it to be. They've all been very nice to me.'
'That's good. I'm glad you're doing so well.' She puts a tray with two glasses of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies down on the coffee table. 'Well, I'll leave you two to catch up. I'll be back around four, okay? Anything you need from the shops?'
We tell her we're fine and, after we hear the front door close behind Elizabeth Wendleton, Julie turns to me.
'So. What do you want to do?'
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And that's it! I really hope you enjoyed reading it, please do let me know in the comments, but I'm going to go to sleep now, because it's 1:39AM and I'm absolutely knackered.
Goodnight, and please join me for blogmas day 5 tomorrow evening.
Love,
Rosaly
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