“I knew he’d fall for you,” Ashley whispered, eyes gleaming. “He’d have to be brain-dead not to.”
Ali laughed— really laughed— for the first time in what felt like weeks. But then the laughter faded, and her chest tightened.
She looked down at the wine glass in her lap. “Ash… it hasn’t all been good.”
Ashley sat up straighter, instinctively on alert. “What do you mean?”
Ali hesitated. Her fingers found the sleeve of her sweatshirt, twisting it nervously. “Daisy. When I told her… she just completely lost it.”
Ashley’s jaw tensed. “Define lost it.”
Ali didn’t sugarcoat it.
She told her about the screaming. The slurs. The cruel words that rang in her ears for days. The icy silence. The way Daisy had turned her entire sorority against her. She described what it was like to walk around campus feeling invisible and yet exposed all at once. Avoiding the parties. Pretending everything was okay when inside, it was anything but.
“I started hurting myself,” she said quietly, voice barely audible.
Ashley’s breath caught.
Ali swallowed hard, forcing the words to keep coming. “But I— I got help. Dylan found out. He didn’t run away. He took me to Health Services the next morning. My doctor, she doesn’t make me feel dumb or crazy. She got me in within a campus therapist and put me on a mood stabilizer & anxiety meds. I actually think… it’s all helping. Dylan doesn’t coddle me or anything. His strength is incomparable.”
Ashley’s eyes glistened, but she didn’t let a single tear fall.
Instead, she cupped Ali’s cheeks, thumbs brushing gently along her jaw. “You are the strongest person I know.”
Ali shook her head. “I’m not.”
“You are,” Ashley said firmly. “You’ve been drowning and still managed to crawl toward the surface. That’s strength.”
Ali’s eyes filled with unshed tears, a soft sob catching in her throat. She wasn’t used to kindness landing so solidly. She hadn’t had any girls to talk to.
Ashley wrapped her in a hug so fierce it knocked her wine glass over. “You ever feel that low again,” she whispered fiercely, “I swear to God, I will drive three hours in my pajamas from Georgia U and sit on your bathroom floor with you all night if I have to. Screaming, bitching, tears, whatever— I’ll be there. You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”
Ali cried then— not from pain, but from relief.
And for the first time in a long time, she believed her cousin meant it.
They fell asleep under the blankets, mascara smudged, legs tangled, the empty popcorn bowl on the floor and soft music playing from Ashley’s phone. And when Ali woke up the next morning, tucked into Ashley’s queen bed with the sun warming her cheeks, she felt something she hadn’t in months.
Safe. Whole. Content.
Christmas Tree Farm
Dylan
The FaceTime call with Ali ended hours ago, but Dylan was still lying on his childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling fan turning slow above him. The house was quiet now— his parents long asleep— but he couldn’t settle. Not after the conversation he’d just had with Daisy.
He couldn’t tell Daisy everything. That wasn’t his story to share. But when she rolled her eyes at the mention of Ali again— when she made another snide comment about how Ali was “milking” her sadness for attention— he snapped.
“You’ve been a bitch to her, Daisy,” he said. “She hasn’t done anything to you except fall for someone who’s your brother. Get over it.”
Daisy had exploded, her voice rising with each accusation. “You’re choosing her over me! You always used to have my back, and now it’s like I don’t even know you. You don’t see how she’s manipulating you?”
He didn’t even finish the argument. He retreated to his old room. But he was still reeling. He couldn't stay here.
He grabbed his bag, sent an apology text to his parents— told them he had to get back to campus early to prep for the bowl game— and left. If he stayed, he might say something he couldn’t take back.
Ali wasn’t even at school yet— she was still at her parents’ house until after Christmas— but he needed space from the toxicity. From Daisy. From the guilt that always followed him like a shadow when they fought.
