Cam's POV

~

Hailey comes skidding into my room, her fluffy socks sliding on the hardwood floor. A too-big Santa hat is pulled over her ears, and a loopy grin is stretched across her face.

"Sam and Tom are here!" she shrieks, like that isn't a regular occurrence. She bounces on her toes and does a ballerina spin, stumbling a little, catching herself on the wall. 

"Alright, I'm coming."

It's Christmas Eve, and the whole house smells like cookies. Veronica and Mom spent the entire day baking - I tried to help, but they ushered me out of the kitchen.  Something about being in the way. I guess I have gotten bigger, the last year and a half that I've been on the Leafs - taller, and more muscular. Not that anyone's complaining. Besides Mom, I guess.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Mom says now as the front door swings open. She pulls mittens off her hands, brushes strands of wavy hair behind her ears. Little Christmas trees dangle from her ears. I dunno. I kinda like them.

I help Tom take off his coat, then Sam's. I brush snow off his shoulder as he smiles at me, sort of out of the corner of his eye. "What a gentleman."

"Yeah, that's me." 

He's wearing this dark blue sweater that brings out the blue in his eyes, and it looks so soft and cozy I can't help but hug him tightly, breathe in the smell of his soap. He laughs.

"You're so soft, Cameron," says Veronica, who's sitting on the edge of the couch, eating a shortbread cookie. Hailey is practically purring up against her. 

"Not true," I say, pulling away from Sam. "I'm the toughest hockey player there's ever been." Then I scoop up Hailey, kissing her cheek as she shrieks. No, it is true. My family makes me soft. And Sam makes me soft. Though there's not really a difference, between the two. 

It's sort of snowing lightly outside, the perfect Christmas Eve weather, and with the fireplace on and the tree all lit up, I feel kinda homesick even though I'm right here. I don't know how that works. The way you can be at home and crave it all at once.

The oven dings, and Mom rushes to take the lasagna out of the oven. We're eating pretty late, but she wants to go to Midnight Mass this year, for god knows why. "The lasagna!" she announces loudly, which makes me smile. 

Sam and I settle on the couch as a Christmas movie plays - something black and white, all hazy, with those old-fashioned voices Veronica likes to imitate so much. Tom is sitting on the chair - he has an oxygen tank now, that's new - but his eyes are all crinkled with happiness. He has a stocking on our mantle. Sam does, too. 

"I learned all about winter holidays at school," Hailey tells Sam proudly. Her Santa hat slipped a little, so you can only really see one of her eyes. "There's Hanukkah, and Kwanza, and Three Kings Day, and Saint Lucia Day... and maybe more, too, but I forget."

"That's really cool, Hailey!" says Sam. 

"And Christmas. That's what we're celebrating. Right now."

Sam smiles softly. "You're so right."

I wrap my arm around Sam and I can't help but stare at him, a little. With his cheeks all flushed and freckled. He just finished his second semester in the nursing program at U of T, since he started last spring. He's doing so good. Top of his class, I think, though he's too modest to talk much about it. He's got a really nice dorm, too. Perfectly organized, of course. No roommate, which makes things easier. He glances over at me, takes my hand and squeezes it.

"What are you thinking about?" he says quietly. 

"Cookies." 

"Of course."

"I made the snowflake, if you saw it when you walked in. The blue one with pink sprinkles. That one's mine. Thought you should know."

"I knew it was yours."

"Yeah?"

He leans in towards my ear, whispering slowly. "Yeah, it's the worst one."

I laugh loudly, tickle his side, and soon we're tickling each other wildly, and he falls off the side of the couch. 

"Hey, watch it," says Tom, though he's grinning. 

"Boys!" Mom calls from the kitchen. "You're going to knock over the tree! You're nineteen years old!"

Nineteen - god. Before I can think too much (because I'm good at that - thinking too much), Hailey throws herself onto the pile and starts tickling me. "I'll help you, Sam!" she says bravely. 

My own sister. That's just the way it goes, sometimes. God, I love it when Sam laughs.

We eat dinner at the table, digging into the lasagna, swapping holiday stories and funny memories. It's our third Christmas with the Hughes. The first one, Sam kissed me, and I acted like a dick - the second, he kissed a girl, and he acted like a dick. Funny how Christmases work. I guess we both had shit to work out. I wouldn't change anything, though, because here we are - he's sitting right beside me, his sweater brushed up against my shoulder, laughing at something cheesy my mom is saying, his eyelashes all long and pretty - and I really, really wouldn't change anything.

After dinner, Hailey gets to open one gift. We all know what it is - Sam leans his head against my shoulder and smiles.

"Santa came a little bit early with this one," says Mom, getting her camera ready. She's so corny. I love her. "Be gentle with it."

Hailey pulls open the box, gasps - "A kitten!" - then promptly bursts into tears. What a kid. 

"She's two years old," says Mom. "A rescue cat. Her name is Jupiter."

Hailey is continuing to bawl her eyes out, and she lifts the cat clumsily. It blinks lazily at us. "I love her," she sobs, tears streaming down her face.

I see Sam's eyes light up. There's a little patch of ginger fur on the side of Jupiter, like the red spot on the real planet - Sam has talked about it before. What nerd wouldn't love a nerdy cat name? I kiss his cheek.

Tom isn't coming to mass with us - he's tired, which is understandable - so Jupiter gets to stay with him. Mom practically has to pull Hailey away from her new cat. 

The walk to church is cool and refreshing, light snow sprinkling from the sky. Hailey is ecstatic to be up this late, all hyped up from cookies and Jupiter. "Keep an eye out for the reindeer!" she instructs us as we walk, her boots crunching on snow. 

"Yes ma'am," I say. Other neighbours are heading to Midnight Mass too, and we smile and wish them happy holidays. It's so pretty outside, especially when we turn the corner and see the church at the end of the street, a wreath hanging on the door and lights strung up on the trees. The bell tolls, and Sam slips his hand into mine. 

Inside, candles are lined up around the walls, reflecting in the stain glass windows. It's smoky and sort of mysterious, in a way, that Sunday morning church never is. I don't love church. Makes me nervous. Used to make me guilty, though not so much now. My psychiatrist talked with me about that. But I do like it on Christmas, when everything glows in candlelight, and the chorus sings nice holiday songs, and everyone's in an odd state-of-mind that is both festive and pensive. 

As mass starts, I sit on my hands and stare out of a nearby window. You can see the moon from our spot in the pew, and I nudge Sam. "Pretty," he whispers. It's only after I realize you can also see the cemetery, at least part of it, and I wonder if he's thinking of his parents. 

"Happy birthday, Jesus," whispers Hailey, her head down in prayer. What a kid. I glance at Sam and smile. 

By the time mass is finished, Hailey is pretty much passed out, so I carry her home. My mom cried when the chorus sang "Silent Night" at the end. Sam is tired too - he stumbled over his feet on the walk home, laughed when he saw I noticed - and frankly, I could sleep. Technically, it's already Christmas morning.

With the new year getting closer and everything, it freaks me out to think about the future, sometimes. There's a lot of pressure - both physically and emotionally, really - with hockey. I'm still pretty young. And everything is so uncertain. And life can look like a black, yawning abyss. 

But when we get home, Sam and I collapse on my bed, and he wraps his arms around me tightly, exhales deeply. 

"Goodnight," he whispers, already half-asleep. "Love you."

I love when we fall asleep like this. Cuddled up tightly. When I can hear his heartbeat, match it to mine. The future doesn't seem so scary, anymore - the future is a minute away. 

"I love you too, Sam," I say, then kiss the top of his head. "Merry Christmas."

He buries his head into my shoulder, smiles and rubs my arm, and my eyes can't help but droop shut. "Merry Christmas, Cam."

~

A/N yayyyayay! happy holidays, everyone! hope you enjoyed this soft lil surprise. your christmas gift from me. did you like cam's POV? it's been awhile. i hope you're all spending time at home with family and good food - but if not (because i know the holidays can be difficult, believe me) - you always have a home with sam & cam. 

- M