“So…” I mock Carey’s tone. “That’s where Reeze lives.”
He lifts his head from my shoulder to look at me side on. “The fuck?’
“It’s true. He moved into the pool house a few months back.”
“Is that when they started hooking up?”
“Dunno. Eden’s the one who set it up. Reeze’s landlords were selling his apartment and he had to find somewhere quick. I don’t think Shawn had anything to do with it.”
Carey nods, but doesn’t say anything else.
His head falls back to my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around his.
Let my parents see.
Let Appa question my happiness.
I don’t know how long we stand here, just staring out the window to the faint ambient sounds of my parents talking Korean. Then, when I think maybe I can sneak a kiss, my mother’s voice slices right down between us. “Gift time!”
“Jesus Christ,” Carey says with a start—his body jolting, my arm falling from around him.
I push him playfully in the chest. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“I didn’t put anything under the tree for you, either.”
The bottle and a half of soju hits me all at once, and I float behind Carey, collapsing onto the firm leather couch beside him so close our legs touch.
Omma puts on some Korean Trot music then sets aside the pile meant for Jintae and Eden.
I stretch my arms high above me, then rest them along the back of the couch.
Carey crosses his arms, then pokes me secretly in the ribs.
My fingers find the short hairs at the nape of his neck.
This is why I shouldn’t have drunk, but the exact reason I needed to.
Idrank too much soju.
I stopped four hours ago at dinner, but my head still isn’t clear. I wouldn’t say I’m drunk, but Carey and I were being way too bold in the end.
It took some time, but by sunset things had settled down. My father stayed on the couch scrolling through his phone, close enough to say he was there but still on the sidelines. My mother stopped prying, brought out the cards, and it actually started to feel like Christmas. The Jeon family and adoptees, drunk in the basement, bickering over card games while Trot plays in the background.
I laugh to myself and open the closet of my childhood bedroom, the internal light flicking on and dimly illuminating the otherwise dark room. I look at my open duffle on the floor, then strip down to only my underwear and kick my discarded clothes into a pile by my bag.
This part of the holiday isn’t normal, though. Every other Christmas night since Eden started spending the holidays with us when we were sixteen, I’ve slept in the basement. All of them bar one. For the seven nights between Christmas and New Years we camp out down there. The rest of the family comes and goes, but it's our domain. Our little kingdom. One week every year where we drink and eat to excess before turning over the calendar.
Originally, it wasn’t so special.
Originally I didn’t need to exercise self control.
But that was before I almost got myself locked up.
That was before I almost destroyed my life completely.
Looking around the mostly empty wardrobe, my eyes settle on the bare coat hanger where my Letterman jacket usually hangs. I shake my head, knowing Jintae took it. No one else would have touched it. The little shit has his own too. He played Varsity soccer. He’s always been more athletic than me.
"At least he’ll be warm,” I mumble to myself, remembering how much it swallowed him whenever he’d try it on. Just like Carey in his brother’s plaid parka.
