Song: Fa La La - Justin Bieber

Stretching upwards, I manage to reach another bare spot on the tree. I cover it up with a glittery red ornament and back up to examine it. Forming my fingers into a picture frame, I admire the work I've done on the Christmas tree. It looks good, but not good enough.

   I rummage through a box of Christmas ornaments until I stumble across a little glass teddy bear. It's holding a candy cane and smiling. On its belly there is some handwriting that said, "Evie's first Christmas. Love you!"

   Feeling my cheeks heat up with discomfort, I almost decide to trash the object completely. But I recover quickly, and I hang it on the tree as well. Once it's stable, I pace around the tree and scrutinized it. Before I can find another undecorated spot however, my dad steps into the room sipping coffee.

   "Boy am I glad to have you setting up the tree," he says in his light, happy voice. His face creases with wrinkles as he grins at me and touches my shoulder. "Your mother and I couldn't get it to look this fantastic in a million years."

   I blush a bit, embarrassed by his unnecessary praise. "Thanks, dad," I reply, the words rolling off my tongue like sandpaper. All these years of practice, and I still can't talk to them like a normal daughter.

   Suddenly, I spot another naked spot on the tree. Rushing over to the box, I quickly whip out a golden ornament and cover the place up.

   My dad burst into laughter at my perfectionism. "You are just like your mother. You both have to have everything in perfect order," he chuckles.

   I smile slightly and come to stand beside him again. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to do your best," I say. I like being compared to her. I have her hair, eyes, and structure. The only thing I don't have are her personality and wit.

   "You got me there." My dad leans down and kisses the side of my head, then he whispers, "I'm going to go steal one of Angelina's cookies."

   I laugh softly as he heads for the kitchen. Unfortunately, my laughter is instantly replaced with puzzlement as Angelina peers into the room.

   "Miss Evelyn, you have visitor," she announces in her sketchy English.

   I wrinkle my eyebrows. "Bring them in, please," I invite as I approach the middle of the living room.

   Angelina slips into the next room. To my complete horror, Casey takes her place. He has on his usual dark clothes and his hair is slicked back. He has on a small, red bow tie. Somehow, he made his usual clothes look nice. But why?

   "Hey, Goldilocks," Casey greets me skeptically.

   The nickname makes my heart ache, something that I don't feel too often. I distract myself by going through the ornament box. "What do you want, Casey Jones?" I ask stiffly.

   "I-I wanted to talk to you," Casey stammers, revealing one of his rare moments of no confidence.

   I continue to avoid his gaze by decorating the Christmas tree. "We have nothing to talk about," I reply in monotone. The last thing I want to do is talk about our fight. Especially on Christmas Eve.

   Casey approaches me hesitantly as I fiddle with the Christmas tree. "Just come for a short walk with me. We can work this out," he insists.

   I keep rushing back and forth from the box to the tree, barely sparing him a glance. "I'm afraid that I have a party to decorate for. My family is coming in from out of state and I'd have a duty to make this place look nice."

   "Just come with me for ten minutes," Casey begs. "After that, you can come back here and I swear I'll never bother you again, if that's what you want."

   I sigh and slowly turn to look at my former student. As I meet his brown gaze, I find myself caving in. "You may have me for five minutes," I decide.

   Even with this small time limit, Casey is thrilled. He leads me outside into the cold with a new happiness to his step. Despite how irritated I am with him, I find myself struggling to hide a smile at his cheery behavior.

   As soon as we start to walk down the sidewalk, Casey launches into his speech. "Ok, so I'm not great at these kinda things. But for the last month, I've been going crazy thinking about what happened between us. I don't even remember why we fought," he admits with a small blush.

   "We fought because you insist on putting yourself in pointless danger," I remind him sharply. How could he forget? Does he really think being reckless isn't a big deal? Does he not care about his own life? Some don't even have the option to keep their life.

   Casey frowns. "Right. Well, what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry. I guess I could've been less harsh about how I handle mutants like that," he admits bashfully.

   "Mutants?" I blink. I suppose that term is fitting. No animals look like that by nature. I shake my head to clear it.

   Casey blinks, obviously avoiding my question. "Can you forgive me?" he asks softly.

   I have never seen him act so humble. I automatically assume it's a side he doesn't show often. Feeling pressured by that fact, I immediately feel bad for how terrible I have been to him. I don't want him to be angry with me. I have enough to deal with as it is.

   "I'm sorry, too," I say reluctantly. I look in his eyes to show him that I am sincere. "It's your life. I shouldn't have been so hasty to shout at you. If you want to put yourself in danger, then that's none of my business."

   Casey smiles a little bit, the gap between his teeth showing. "So we're cool?" he presses.

   I don't return the grin, but I nod. "Yes," I agree.

   "Awesomesauce!" Casey is back to usual, slang-loving self. "Oh, I almost forgot! I got you something." He reaches into the inside of his jacket and pulls out a small box. It's covered in silver wrapping paper and it has a big red bow on it.

   Casey pushes the small box into my hands. "It's not much, but I hope you like it."

   Astonished, I shake my head and reject the gift. "No, that's alright," I respond, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

   "Take it." Casey stubbornly places the gift back into my hands. He gives me a look that tells me he isn't going to accept it, so I relent.

   I slowly unwrap the gift and peer inside. I glimpse a shiny, silver object in the shape of a snowflake. As I remove the item from the box, the thin chain gives away the fact that it's a necklace.

   Touched, I gaze up at Casey. "It's beautiful," I gasp softly. I trace my fingers over the snowflake charm, feeling my heart swell up.

   "I saw it in a jewelry shop and it reminded me of when we went to get hot chocolate," Casey explains with a tiny grin. "You know, when your textbook got all wet from the snow."

   As much as I don't want to, I find myself smiling stupidly. I'm not sure why I care that he remembers that. It was completely illogical of us to ditch our study session to drink some silly hot chocolate. Yet, I don't regret it for some reason.

   Maybe it's because I have a real friend.

   I finally reveal a genuine smile to him. "Thank you," I say, my voice cracking. I'm not going to cry; I can't cry. But it's still hard to maintain my posture at something like this.

   Casey's smile grows. "No problem, Goldie."

   I have the urge to hug him, but I can't act upon it. Instead, I veer my desire into putting the necklace on. As I feel the chain embrace my neck, my heart takes a mini leap for joy.

   Our five minutes are up. "I have to get back to the party," I tell him hesitantly. Impulsively I add, "Do you want to come?"

   Unfortunately, Casey shakes his head. "A hockey player around sophisticated people? I doubt that will work," he jokes.

   I don't want him to spend Christmas alone, so I come up with a new idea. "We can hang out tomorrow then," I suggest. "Most of my guests will have left by noon, so my parents wouldn't mind if I slipped away for a few hours."

   Casey seems to like that. "Then you can come to my house," he replies, obviously trying to play it cool and failing. "We'll find something to do there, but not studying. I don't do schoolwork on holidays," he adds with a smirk.

   A strange feeling of excitement washes over me. I nod. "Sounds great."

   "Epic. I'll text you my address later," Casey responds.

   "Farewell," I say as we separate, my chest warm and fuzzy inside.

   "See ya!" Casey calls back as I head up the sidewalk. His voice echoes in my mind the rest of the night.

   But I don't mind.