Snow on Christmas Eve

He shrugged. “Magic has rules. Like no doing it for someone else without asking. So since I can’t make a wish for you, I guess my wish would be to keep you in my life as long as you want to be here.”

Something sounded a little off about that. “So basically you wish I’ll stay until I don’t want to stay. How is that different from if you didn’t make the wish?”

“It’s your turn. I told you mine, you tell me yours.”

Obviously he had no intention of answering my question. I didn’t feel like pushing the point. It was way too cold to stand out here debating with him. “I wish… Shit.” I didn’t want to get whiny again, but I couldn’t help it. “I wish I still had my family.”

It was stupid, but as soon as I said it, I looked around. Like my family would appear in the middle of the sidewalk, arms open to hug me. As frigging if.

“I hope that wish comes true,” Darion said quietly.

“Yeah.” So do I. I couldn’t quite bring myself to say it. “So where’s this magic you were babbling about?” And when does it work? When do I get my wish?

I couldn’t bring myself to say that either, because if I did, I would be even more out there than Darion. Even he might think I’d lost it.

“All around us.” He gestured. “The snow. The lights. You and me. This is magic, Tag.”

“Is it?” I looked around. “Huh. And here I was expecting a rabbit or sparklies in the air or something.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You really can be a jerk sometimes, you know that? I love you, but right now, you’re being an ass.”

I stopped, staring at him as he kept going. This was the first time he’d ever gotten even slightly annoyed with me, and it hurt. Especially since I deserved it. He was right. He was being loving and romantic, and I was being an ass. “Wait. Darion. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t answer, just kept walking. I didn’t think what I’d said was that bad, but then again, it wasn’t the first time I’d said something jerkish. Not even the first time tonight. Maybe his anger was cumulative.

“Wait.” I hurried to catch up with him. “Darion, come on. Please.”

“We’re very different.” He looked down at me, eyes narrowed but filled with sadness, as I finally reached him. “I believe in things. You believe in making fun of people who believe in things.”

Shit. I’d really hurt him. Far more than I’d realized. “I believe I’m a sarcastic dipshit sometimes. I believe…” I paused, searching my brain for something to say that wouldn’t sound either ridiculous or fake. “I believe in you. In us.”

“Do you?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I invited you to move in with me after three months because of how much I believe.” I gestured around us at the snow, which was falling harder now, and the monochromatic lights of the house we were in front of. Blue.

I stopped and stared. The entire house was decorated in blue lights.

In grade two, I’d told my classmates my favorite color was “blue lights.” They’d insisted I was wrong, I meant light blue, but I meant exactly what I’d said. Blue lights. Specifically, blue Christmas lights. I loved the way they looked, especially shining on the snow. That year, my parents, after listening to me cry about my classmates making fun of me, replaced every bulb in every strand of Christmas lights we owned with a blue one. My brothers had hated it and complained about our parents playing favorites, but I’d adored it.

We were in front of a house lit up in my favorite color, and yet even though I’d lived on this street for three years and had walked up this street every weeknight on my way home from the bus stop, I’d never noticed this house before. Funny how my brain registered its existence, a reminder of my childhood and my family, right after I wished to have my family back.

Yeah, it would be funnier if I actually believed my wish had a damn thing to do with it.