As the twisting and twirling of delighted wedding guests stirred around me, my mind slipped to, of all things, when I broke my arm. I was seven years old. Jake and I had been playing in his treehouse all day. We had grabbed all the snacks we could get our hands on and spent the time reading comic books as the leaves danced outside in the flickering breeze. I felt so cool hanging out with him. It was the first weekend of our 2-week stay at the Miller's place that summer. The following two weeks, Jake and Beth were coming to our house at the lake. Jake was telling me all the cool things we could find in the lake.

"Dinnertime," Beth called from the kitchen door.

Jake opened the trapdoor and let me go first, but I slipped on the second rung down. I recall Jake's face as I fell as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. It was slow-motion and etched in my mind. The panic registered immediately in his expression, but not for me. The fall that lasted only a split second seemed to linger for hours. His hand outstretched to me in urgent clutching.

As I fell, I thought to myself, 'it will be fine; Jake is here.' I was only partially correct; I broke my arm.

Beth was at my side first before Jake could even climb down. "Nifer, are you ok?" She was hovering, very un-Beth-like.

"Nifer, I'm so sorry. I should have gone first." There was pleading in Jake's voice.

I couldn't process all the panic, and then I realize... "My arm." But I didn't cry.

I always cried, but at the moment, I was too worried about Beth, my mom, my dad, Jake. And they were all worried about me. Jake sat in the backseat of the car with me. He gently put an arm around my shoulders as I leaned into him, cradling my arm in a makeshift sling Beth had made from a towel.

"It's ok to cry," he whispered.

"I can't," I whispered back. I looked up into his eyes and added, "it's ok for you to cry for me."

He looked like he wanted to, but he laughed a bit and pulled me closer to him at my suggestion.

That night, my parents let us bring all the blankets and pillows down to the living room and sleep in a fort all night. Jake had to do most of the building while I instructed from the couch. Once it was entirely formed, he helped me crawl in and prop up my arm. We watched all three Back to the Future movies as I nestled in next to him and the safety his proximity provided. It was the beginning of my movie nights with Jake. The beginning of too many Twizzlers and Cherry Cokes, inside jokes, and warm memories.

As I fell asleep next to Jake that night, I heard him whisper, "I will never let anything hurt you again," and I believed him.

I believed Jake when he told me it was okay to cry, and I believed Jake when he promised never to let anything hurt me. I still wanted to believe both as I tried to edge my way out of the celebrating crowd of his wedding. How had life spiraled so far out of control? How had I allowed Jake to slip so far away from me?

As though we were in the cool waters of Stone Lake, I felt the wave of another memory pulling me into its cold clutches.

Ten years old is old enough to want to hear adult conversations but too young to understand them. Unfortunately, at ten, you rarely realize what you are misunderstanding.

"I think my mom is trying to convince yours to buy Emerson's house!" I bounded excitedly down the basement stairs.

Twelve-year-old Jake stretched across the pull-out couch with a video game controller occupying his hands and attention. "No, we're not moving. Dad just accepted a big promotion. Mom is not happy about it."

"Why? Aren't promotions good?" I flopped down on the pull-out next to him and shoved too much Twizzler in my mouth, causing a gag that I failed to hide from Jake.

"She thinks he works too much." There was a passive shrug to his shoulders.

"Bummer; it would be so much fun to have you right next door, though!"

"No way, Nif; it's too slow up here! The city is way better." He tossed the remote aside before grabbing the second half of my Twizzler from my fingers and tucked it into his mouth.

At ten, sharing food was the same as kissing, and my heart almost exploded from the gesture. "I don't like New York; the buildings make me dizzy, and I miss the stars," I complained.

"Oh, Nifer, who needs stars when you have the city lights and pizza at 1 in the morning!"

"Why would you want pizza at 1 in the morning?" I asked. Aside from mostly failed attempts on New Year's Eve, I couldn't remember any time I was up that late.

"You'll understand when you're older."

Jake always acted like our two-year difference was twenty. I didn't help matters as I stuck my tongue out at him in response. He snatched it between two fingers before I could dodge him.

"Ow," I whined.

"You're fine. I'm bored of video games. Ready for the movie?" He plumped the pillow behind him. It had been our tradition for the past 2-years to watch It's A Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve. It was my favorite holiday tradition because it was just ours.

"Yep," I smiled as I snuggled into the pillows.

We settled into the film side by side. I knew I would fall asleep before the ending, but I also knew that Jake would wake me up just in time for Bedford Falls to rally around George. When his brother Harry arrived, I would start to tear up, and Jake would make fun of me for being a sap. It was as much of the tradition as the movie itself. But this year, as he shook me awake, I realized that I had curled into his chest.

"Nif," his voice was barely a whisper, "it's your favorite part."

His arm jostled me tenderly as my eyes fluttered open. I was disorientated enough to shift to see the TV before realizing that I was not resting on a pillow. When I realized I was on his chest and he had an arm wrapped around me, fireworks exploded within me.

"You awake?" He prodded again.

"Mmhmm," I managed as my heart pounded in my chest.

Harry arrived, I teared up, Jake mocked; but most importantly, he didn't push me from his arms. As he clicked the tv off, he let me snuggle back into his chest. I fought falling asleep, wanting to memorize the moment to the tiniest detail. But it was well after midnight, and I lost the battle with sleep soon after.

The following day, Beth woke us up with an annoying parent grin, the kind that teased that you were so adorable, which meant childish.

"Merry Christmas," her tone was too cheery for two tweens to enjoy.

"Mom, why are you holding your phone?" Jake scowled.

"I had to; you two were so cute," she flicked through her pictures as she spoke.

"Mom, seriously, you're so embarrassing," he grumbled as he shrugged out from beneath me and rubbed his face.

I didn't care. I didn't even care about the presents upstairs; I had spent the night in Jake Miller's arms. All I could think of was that I needed to call Ari stat!

"What time is it?" I asked, pretending to be as annoyed as Jake.

"It's almost 8 am, and breakfast is ready." Our grumbles did not dissuade Beth's cheery tone.

I tried to think of something cool to say. "I need a shower," I said in a cranky tone to match the mood I was trying to give off.

"Ok, well hurry," Beth prodded as I pulled myself from the pull-out and headed upstairs to my room.

I shut my bedroom door behind me and melted to the floor in reaction to the best night ever. I could still feel where Jake's arm had laid heavily across my waist. If possible, I would have tattooed the feeling on me to carry the warmth with me forever.

I took my time showering and getting dressed to prove that I was not a child focused on presents anymore. But my excitement bubbled as I headed downstairs and got a whiff of Beth's cinnamon buns. The only thing that could have stood between me and breakfast was Jake. Just as I was about to enter the kitchen, I heard him complaining to my mom.

"She's so embarrassing. Not to mention that if Lynn sees those pictures, I'll be dead for sure."

"You really like this Lynn, don't you?" I was annoyed at my mom's embarrassing prodding but even more annoyed at whomever Lynn was.

"Yeah, she's great." It was the most chipper I had heard Jake since he had arrived.

"Well, I'm sure she will understand that Jen is like a little sister." A searing flare of anger soared through me. My own mother was friend-zoning me to the love of my life. I would never forgive her.

"I don't know; girls are weird. They read into the weirdest thing. Lynn got mad at me last week for lending another girl a pencil for a test," Jake mumbled.

"It is a confusing time for both boys and girls," my mom offered.

"When does it get less confusing?"

"When I find out, I'll let you know," my mom let out a laugh at her own joke.

I had to enter to stop the embarrassment. "Morning," I grumbled. This time the annoyance was real.

"Merry Christmas!" My mom glowed. "I saved you a cinnamon bun."

"I'm not that hungry. I think I'll just have some fruit salad." I took a small scoop and started to roll a grape around the plate.

"Are you feeling okay?" My mom had her hand on my forehead before I could shirk it away.

"She probably had too many Twizzlers last night," Jake teased.

"I'm fine. I'm just not that hungry." I flinched away from my mother's hand.

"Are you feeling well enough for presents?" There was a mock in my mom's voice that I couldn't stand.

"I feel fine," I grumbled again as I took my plate to the living room and plopped down next to Beth.

"Merry Christmas," Beth whispered again with a wink. At least I felt like I had one person on my side.

We opened presents one at a time so we could all see what everyone received. It took most of the morning, and I was regretting my breakfast tantrum as I was starving.

As if by some sick joke, the memory faded as I found myself leaning against a table of perfectly wrapped presents; wedding presents.