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After a moment, I reach up and wipe a tear from her cheek with the pad of my thumb. She leans against me, ever so slightly.

“You won’t end up like your aunt.” My own voice is cracking, unable to imagine the pain of thinking that about my future.

She sniffs. “How do you know?”

“I can’t see a world in which you’d ever end up alone. You’re way too amazing. Not that your aunt wasn’t a wonderful person, but I think there was more to it than you knew. If she was turning to drugs, especially hard drugs, then there must have been so much else happening in her life, a lot of pain we can’t imagine. And I hope you never do.”

Mariah’s bottom lip trembles. “I should have been there for her.”

“Don’t blame yourself—you were a kid. Don’t carry that guilt, okay? She wouldn’t want that for you.” I give her hands a squeeze. “You know what she’d want for you? To be doing exactly what you’re doing. From being brave enough to be the person on the outside that you are on the inside, to blazing a trail even if it means being away from your family, and working every day to make your dreams come true. You, being alive and loving your life, is the best way to honour her memory.”

Mariah smiles, then releases my hand and wipes at her face. “You’re right. Thank you for listening.”

I stand up straight and shrug. “Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

She regards me for a moment, her face pink and blotchy, but looking much more relaxed after getting her feelings out. “Yeah. Friends.”

“And now I get why you hate Christmas so much. It must be hard for you working on a Christmas set, walking up to a winter wonderland every day. Sometimes I forget that for me Christmas is the most magical time of year and holds my best childhood memories, but for others it can be really triggering. Especially if they’ve lost someone recently.”

“Yeah. My aunt passed away years ago, but I can’t get through Christmas without thinking about her all alone in her dingy little apartment.” Mariah shudders.

“And you can’t even escape it after work. I’m sorry you have to stay here in my cabin with all of this,” I gesture to all the lights and decorations. “You know, we can take it down, I don’t mind.”

“No,” she says quickly. “Actually, I think it’s kind of... helping. Seeing Christmas from your perspective is changing mine, in a way. The pain is there. It will always be there. But like you said, she wouldn’t want me to hurt for her forever. Maybe I can have some good memories of Christmas to go with the bad ones.”

“Hey, happy to help you there! Do you want to eat some sexually inappropriate Christmas cookies, drink some more wine, and watchAlien 3?”

She smirks. “That’s not a Christmas movie. You really fell off your diet, you know that?”

“I know,” I moan, taking the tray of cookies to the couch. “But I gotta see what happens next! And I’m not brave enough to watch these on my own.”

Mariah follows with the wine, sitting next to me with our hips touching, and throws a blanket over us while I cue up the movie. I’m giddy at how comfortable we are. We’ve only known each other a few days and yet I feel closer to her than my friends in Vancouver I’ve known for years.

Mariah is asleep by the halfway point, her head lolled on my shoulder. I snuggle in a little closer, so happy she feels safe enough to fall asleep like this. I’m so proud of her for trusting me, for braving her family, and for sharing something so deep and dark. I can tell Mariah keeps everything buttoned up tight; it’s a privilege to be the one she opens up to, and it’s not something I take lightly. It feels like I’m holding a little piece of her with me, cradling it to my chest like something precious and fragile.

And I know I won’t break it.

When the movie hits the credits, I can’t decide which of the three are my favourite because it wasthat good. Gently, I extricate myself from beneath Mariah and lay her on the couch. I pull the blanket over her, then trace my finger along her cheek to tuck a strand of teal hair behind her ear.

I feel a sudden urge—a need—to kiss the skin beneath her eye where my finger had just been. My heart thumps faster with the thought, imagining what it would be like to kiss her when she’s asleep, to breathe in the scent of her as she slumbers, to watch her dream, to pull her in tight and wrap my arms around her.

I bend closer, lips hovering. She smells so sweet, so good, so familiar and yet so different, an alluring combination that draws me in.

I pause, hovering. Then I take a slow breath and step back.

I don’t know if she wants me touching her while she’s sleeping. And she probably doesn’t want me kissing her. Mariah put a lot of trust in me tonight. We’re friends. I’m not about to break that because of some strange whim.

Though the tugging ache in my chest pulling me closer to her makes me think...What if this is more than a whim?

“Ellie, who was that hunk that came to see you yesterday?”

Mariah and I have just walked into the hair and makeup department, Starbucks cups in hand, when Julia stops us in our tracks.

“Who?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.

Julia laughs her musical laugh. “Miss Popular can’t even keep track of all the boys her milkshake is bringing to the yard.”

I squint. “My milkshake?”