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though I was coming to
    terms with the fact that his cruelty was a way of coping with the struggles of his own sexual
    orientation, and even though it was ancient history, stuff that happened so long ago neither
    of us should have remembered any of it, it didn’t matter. I still said no.
    Because I couldn’t believe in a happy ending. I couldn’t have Ethan. Even with him
    offering, I couldn’t have him. I was certain of that. I had wanted him too much and for too
    long to ever get him.
    Ethan said nothing. He climbed into my old bed silently and blew out the candle.
    “Good night,” I said softly.
    A moment later, he responded. “Good night, Jonah.”
    Tension steamed in the air, but luckily, it was so cold it never heated up enough to boil
    over, and we were both asleep in moments.
    Holiday Outing
    35

Chapter Five
    I awoke to the unmistakable sound of someone attempting to be quiet.
    It was a common enough occurrence in my childhood home. My mother and father
    were always trying to keep their voices down so they wouldn’t wake me when they rose at
    the godawful hour of five-thirty every morning.
    And, like clockwork, they would initiate their quiet ritual by slamming the back door,
    running the dishwasher, using the blender for their morning smoothies, and speaking in
    violent whispers that reverberated through the floorboards and guaranteed that I would
    shoot awake as assuredly as if I had swallowed a mouthful of speed.
    My first hint that the power was still off was that the dishwasher didn’t turn on at its
    accustomed six a.m. hour. However, the noises emanating from downstairs were loud and
    destructive as though someone was in the midst of pillaging.
    It was cold and a pale, snow-infused light drifted into my room through the curtains. I
    remained in my sleeping bag as I stood, hoping to maintain the illusion that I was still
    unconscious.
    36
    Astrid Amara
    I quietly opened the bedroom door and shuffled in my sleeping bag to the hallway.
    Peering over the banister, I saw my mother tearing the house apart as my uncle and father
    pried at the door.
    “What’s going on?” I asked, voice cracked with sleep.
    Everyone turned up to face me. My father’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, did we wake you?” he
    asked, shovel in hand, banging the door and the wall as he attempted to scoop out all the
    snow that poured in when they opened the door. “Too much snow piled up outside.”
    My uncle glared at me.
    “I still can’t find it,” my mother lamented, holding an armful of tea towels. “I’ve looked
    everywhere!”
    I couldn’t see down into the living room, but I assumed poor Rachel had also been
    awakened by the chaos of our collective progenitors. Grumpily I hopped back into my
    bedroom and shut the door.
    Ethan slept, curled in a fetal position, face smashed deep into the pillows, mouth
    slightly open.
    I stood in my sleeping bag and stared at him. His lips were soft and red. Light brown
    stubble sprouted along his cheeks. His hair, usually so coiffed, was mussed and stood up at a
    rakish angle.
    He looked fucking gorgeous.
    I sat beside him on the bed. His body radiated heat. He smelled musky and masculine.
    Did he really mean it when he said he hadn’t meant to hurt me?
    It was both hard to imagine, and yet logical. I knew firsthand how difficult it was to
    realize one was gay in high school. It couldn’t have been any easier for Ethan, especially
    under intense scrutiny from everyone -- he always lived in the limelight. And he had
    powerful jock friends with whom his reputation needed to be maintained. At least I had
    huddled in the shadow of anonymity to hide me from questioning eyes.
    Holiday Outing
    37
    It made sense that he would hide his nature. It even made sense that he would mock
    someone who bore too close a resemblance to him, who shared his little secret. And I could
    recall, even now, that look of sickness on his face when his friends had turned away.
    How much of my life had been spent in