Page 39 of The Breaking Pointe

snowball effect

COLTON

When I was a child, I would wake up bright and early on Christmas Day, before either of my parents. I could hardly sleep the night before, and I would be so excited that I would wait until the exact moment that I could see the sun rising through my bedroom window. As soon as I did, my body would shoot from the bed and right into my parents’ room, alerting them that it was time for presents.

Out of the many things that I deem horrible in this life of mine—the holidays will never fall under that category when it comes to my family. Neither of my parents allowed their turmoil to ruin that for me. They made them some of the best memories that I could have to look back on, and worked their damn hardest to give me what I considered to be amazing presents as a young boy.

As I reflect on it, it makes it all the more harder to wake up without feeling slightly emotional that I’m spending my first

time without either of them in my life anymore. It’s a new beginning, that isn’t as refreshing as most beginnings, and is much harder to adjust to. The only thing that makes beginning again easier, is doing it with a clearer mind. Each day, things look more clear to me than ever before. The path I’m taking doesn’t confuse me as much as it once did, and I’m not afraid to hit a few more bumps in the road. I don’t know if it’s my relationship with Noelle, or the uplifting of the heavy weighted blanket holding me down from getting better, but I know that questioning it doesn’t give me an answer. It keeps me stagnant, and I need better, which means that I can’t block myself from the potential good that’s coming my way. I should be embracing it, and using any tests I receive to make myself greater.

Noelle’s bare frame shifts against mine, her breasts pressing into my side as her body shivers and takes my attention from the sunlight shining through the blinds. Grabbing the comforter, I cover her body more, shielding her from the chill as I kiss her shoulder, thinking back to her entrance in the middle of the night. I kept my word about sleeping in the guest room. She couldn’t bear sleeping one night without me. Those were her words, not mine, right before she fell asleep in my arms. Magically, she stayed put, until this very second, tucked in my embrace. I wish we didn’t have to move. I wish that we were allowed to lie here for as long as we please.

I’m becoming hopelessly romantic, under her spell.

Her head rests on the same pillow as mine, as she’s created no space between our bodies. Her sleeping face sits content before my gaze. I love when she’s at her barest form. No makeup, curls in every direction, and every freckle is able to be counted to keep me busy. I often wonder if she knows that she’s God’s gift to me. In our quiet time spent together this way, I think of it even

more. I take a thumb to her lips, tracing it gently along them as she breathes in and out calmly.

“Stop staring at me…”

she whispers in her morning voice.

I blink slowly, smiling as she senses me”

No,”

I rasp, my throat feeling scratchier than usual, pecking her lips softly.

Her eyes flutter open, looking at my lips as soon as they do, then my eyes.

“Is your voice gone?”

she asks, brushing her hands along my chest, keeping them stuffed between our bodies.

“I must’ve strained it last night,”

I suggest, my hand falling down to her neck as I trace her freckled skin.

“I didn’t make you moan that much, did I?”

She looks at my lips again, her fingers tracing my face and beard.

“You underestimate hand jobs, clearly.”

I chuckle, sounding more gravelly than usual.

“It’s kind of sexy. I need to make this happen more often.”

She pokes fun at me, letting laughter slip from her lips.

“Yeah, in a place where I don’t have to keep myself quiet,”

I grunt, rolling onto my back and bringing her body with me so we stay close.

“I told you it isn’t easy,”

she states, sitting up. Her hair falls down her shoulders and back as she looks down at me”

You didn’t believe me,”

she says proudly.

“You proved your point, missy,”

I say, bringing my bottom lip between my teeth as my eyes fall down her naked body.

She pushes a hand through her hair”

I should get dressed and go see if my parents are awake.”

I nod”

Go,”

I calmly say.

She crawls over me, stepping onto the floor to pick up her pajama shorts and shirt, putting them onto swiftly before taking another glance at me”

Merry Christmas, Mr. Kennedy,” she

swoons before exiting the room.

Laying there, I stare at the almost closed door for a moment after she leaves. Sitting up, I throw the covers off of me and reach for my boxers and sweatpants, rubbing my eyes as I do. My few seconds of silence is then berated with the door swinging open, but this time, it’s Steven.

“Hey—woah.”

He stumbles back, covering his eyes from the view of me hunched over in my boxers, attempting to put my pants on.

“That’s why there’s a thing called knocking.”

I chuckle.

“I thought you’d still be asleep,”

he says, still holding a hand over his eyes.

I pull my pants up all the way and walk over to him, moving his hands”

It’s Christmas morning. Why would I sleep in and miss all the fun?”

I ask, roughing up his hair.

He smacks my bare chest”

Hey, what the hell!”

I lean down, reaching for my sweatshirt and lift my arms to slip it on, then look at him again”

Now. What’s up, little brother?”

“I’m coming to bug you to come and open presents,”

he says, sounding like an innocent child.

I smile, appreciating his youth for a moment before I say anything.

“Yeah, let’s go,”

I say, turning him around and walking us down the hall to join everyone in the living room.

The living room is lit with colored Christmas lights, resem- bling something of a holiday magazine. It’s everything that I want for Steven to have. He’s never showed me this side of him— a side that’s happy to have me around. I know my impact as a brother plays a fatal role in how he turns out to be as he grows into a man and leaves his teen years behind. I misunderstood

his frustration for hatred. Although, some of it may have felt rooted in hatred, it wasn’t that at all.

Noelle’s parents are on the floor with her, all of them in various positions, waiting for us. We find places next to them, joining their circle and making ourselves comfortable while Noelle passes out each gift, eagerly. She must have done this a thousand times with the way her parents watch her and only react with solace. It’s comforting, the way they pay attention to her and only her when she’s in the room. It’s as if nothing else can be powerful enough to take their eyes away from her. I, too, have trouble taking my eyes off of her, but it goes to show how much she really is loved. I only hope that she knows.

“Okay, Mom—Daddy, go first,”

Noelle says, clapping her hands together and squeezing them until they turn pale.

Mr. Mayberry looks at her mother, wanting to speak but letting her take the lead.

“We were thinking you guys could open yours first. It would be nice to watch,”

she says, patting Noelle’s hands gently with a sincere smile.

Noelle looks at Steven and I before turning back to them and playfully groaning”

You guys are so theatrical.”

She laughs, sliding one box close to me, and another in front of Steven”

These are from me.”

Both boxes are rather large in size, doubling my curiosity. There’s no possible way she can top last night. How could she find more ways to make me love her?

“You go first.”

I tap Steven’s box, forcing myself to wait longer.

For a change, he picks the choice of not going against my words, and starts dismantling the wrapping paper like a savage until a large black box is unveiled, decorated with designs of the

skateboard it contains.

His eyes mimic the glimmer of gold. He almost can’t make words, but finally figures it out, last minute.

“You picked this?”

he relishes, tracing his fingers along it. Noelle nods with a prideful grin and closed eyes.

His hands release the large box from their handle and his arms toss themselves around her, hugging her tightly as the box sits between them.

A tiny gasp bursts from Noelle’s mouth as she hugs him back, closing her eyes and gathering his embrace for herself.

She’s never left him out. She’s welcomed him into her life just as much as she has me, and out of any gift I receive today, that might be the greatest gift of all. To be loved and to share that with my closest kin.

“You wanna give it a test run?”

Mr. Mayberry suggests, giving a furtive face.

Steven pulls away from Noelle and looks at him with his answer plastered on his face.

“Reggie, it’s too icy on the sidewalks…”

Robin begins, her nerves disrupted by that idea.

“Relax, I’ll take him to the piano room. It’s Christmas, Robin, c’mon,”

he declares cordially as he stands up, grumbling and grunting in his efforts.

Steven grabs his board and follows him into the next room, leaving Robin with a countenance of skepticism.

“It’s okay. I can live with him missing my presents. He’s crazy about boarding,”

I brazenly insist, wanting him to enjoy himself in whatever way he pleases.

Robin sips her coffee and subdues her concern, while Noelle scoots closer to me.

“Your turn,”

she says, firmly poking my leg.

“You didn’t out do yourself enough, yet, did you?”

I ask, picking up the neatly wrapped box with a smirk.

She lowers her chin to add depth to her non-threatening glare at me—commanding me to open it.

Taking a deep breath and deciding not to make her wait any longer, I help myself to roughing up the pretty paper. Each rip becomes bigger as I remove more until the box is free from its confinement. My fingertips connect with newly carved oak box with a gentle glossing. In the middle, on what seems to be the top of the box, sits two letters—C. K.—engraved with a classy font. Holding all of the oak together in its place are golden latches, indicating that this contraption was never just a box to begin with, but much more.

“It’s not just a box…”

I say, pausing as I question my in- telligence”

Is it?”

I look to both her and her mother for confirmation.

Noelle’s smile turns into a fit of giggles.

“Open the top and it’ll turn into something. It’s much bigger than a box, honey,”

she says, pointing to it and fidgeting with what seems to be the lid”

See?”

She shows me, kissing my cheek as the box expands into something much bigger, indeed. I take over her grasp on the oak, expanding what I thought was a box into a tall painting easel, nearly matching Noelle in

height, and perfect to take with me wherever I go.

“Now, tell me it’s not the coolest thing ever!”

she squeals, reacting as though she’d received the present herself.

I would deem it more than just cool. It’s a symbolization of how much she cares about my hobbies and personal interests. When she gave me the robe and shorts, I knew she cared about what I put my all into. She showed that my career is just as important to her as it is to me. But this is different. The easel

stands on a pedestal that sits above everything and anything. It stands for the real me—the guy who’s shy and judicious with most things, but because of that it gets hurt in nearly every situation he’s in. It stands for the guy who believes there’s nuance in every aspect of life, and that’s why he spends time trying to represent it through hours of tedious artwork and horrendous emotional expression.

I see the depth in life, she sees the depth in me, and I can’t admit to having any woman see more than my body and wealth before she has. She’s the first, and dammit, I want her to be the last. It is now, that the sound of fathering children fills my soul, and the concept of taking a knee before the woman I owe my life to, draws me in. If the universe has allowed me to, the way I think it has, this is my sign. This oak box turned art easel is the final preface to the story of us.

Stealing her from her place next to me, I slip my arms around her body, pulling her onto my lap and hugging her with a deep nuzzle of my head into her neck.

“You don’t know what you mean to me.”

I muffle into her clothes, freezing in place.

She returns the affection with a tender kiss on my head, her significantly smaller frame holding me like a big baby.

“I have to open yours,”

she whispers, using one free hand to give her best attempt at ripping her gift open, while still hanging onto me.

Sitting up, I let her use both of her hands now, begging for her approval with my eyes as I wait for the big reveal.

She calmly tears each piece until the pink shoe box is open to her grasp, and that’s when her big, green eyes become wider than I ever imagined they could get.

“Pointe shoes!”

she announces, berating the air with her

words.

My brows become tight as I shoot a concerned look at Robin, taken back by her on point prediction of what lies in the un- opened box.

“How…”

I ask out loud, meaning to have said it only in my head.

“It’s okay. She’s showing her years spent obsessing over ballet,”

Robin says with laughter, watching Noelle whip each shoe out of the box.

“And they’re Filipa Julio—Mom, you can’t even find these in America. Do you know how much they are?”

she exaggerates, holding them up for her to see.

“A price I’m not sure I want to say out loud?”

Robin raises her eyebrows.

Noelle rolls her eyes and looks at me”

How did you find these?”

She waves the shoe around as she probes me with her words.

“That’s confidential.”

I chuckle, looking at her.

The shock on her face overpowers any other emotion that might want to show itself, and as a result, her slightly dropped jaw is fighting to lift itself as she blankly eyeballs me.

“I have to put them on,”

she says quickly, tossing her slippers off and stretching her long, slim legs out before herself.

She rushes to shove each foot inside each shoe, disregarding the tightness as she ties the ribbons up her calves. I don’t stop her, intrigued by her willingness to break them in so fast. She uses my shoulder, propping herself up and pushing herself from the rug to a standing position before leaning over to my head and cupping my jaw, tightly. Soft lips connect with my head again and stick there for a matter of seconds as she speaks against my skin”

I know that I will never want for anything ever again, as

long as I’m with you.”

Her lips leave their placement on my forehead as she steps back to take a full look at me and smile. She then prances off, springing into her toes, almost instantly, tiptoeing away to the direction her father and Steven went.

I turn to look at the easel, one more time, sighing in solidarity at our already, very merry Christmas.

* * *

I take a lazy step down the stairs, one by one as I drop lower until I reach the door. As my first foot hits the bottom, two of Noelle’s cousins sweep past me, one chasing the other to the outside as they join the family snowball fight occurring in the front yard. Stopping at the bottom step, my attention follows them out the front door, shifting to Steven rough-housing with a few of them in a large pile of snow. Unable to take my attention away, I stand there, watching as he laughs uncontrollably and gets pelted with snowballs as he throws them back.

There are some days, while I find it troubling, that I look at him and I don’t always feel like a brother. Where there should lie feelings of love from a brotherly place, most times lie a feeling of fatherly love. However, I’m not even physically or scientifically close to being his father, and I doubt he would like the idea of that. Still, I can’t help but to wallow in those perceptions of myself when he does innocent, childlike things. I see what I wasn’t able to enjoy being enjoyed by him, and it not only cures my empty heart, but heals the young boy I used to be.

“What are you doing, huh?”

Noelle asks, approaching me from the step below me, wiping her hands with a kitchen towel, happily.

Perplexed by her presence, I scratch the back of my neck”

Thinking.”

“Well stop that, and enjoy yourself.”

She lightly whips the towel at me, playfully directing me with her words.

“Not in a bad way.”

I shake my head, stepping down the last stair so we’re on the same level”

I’m just taking it all in,”

I add, stuffing my hands in my pockets as I glance at her”

He looks so happy, you know? I want it to be a forever thing…”

I think for a moment, then continue”

What if he’s not doing well at school, Elle? Or worse—what if his mental health is below the gutter?” I ramble.

She gives me a puzzled stare, snuggling her hands in the towel”

That escalated quickly,” she says”

It sounds like you want him to come back home. If I’m reaching, let me know,”

she suggests”

No…you aren’t,”

I respond as Steven walks inside, passing

through us as he gives each of us a quick smile and wave.

As he jogs up the stairs, my gaze follows him, intensely”

Well, while you’re having your brotherly talk, I’m gonna finish making pie. So make yourself hungry,”

Noelle directs me.

“Again? Elle, how many courses do you guys serve?”

I hold my hands out, giving her the third degree.

“I thought you liked eating? Or are you not my big, strong, man who has the hardiest appetite anymore? Who am I gonna feed?”

Her voice becomes soft and dainty-like while she pokes her bottom lip into a pout, raising a hand to my chest.

“I am,”

I say quickly, in distress”

That’s me. Nobody is taking my spot—I worked hard to get here,”

I say, pointing at the wooden floor.

She raises her eyebrows with a quiet, high-pitched laugh”

Go talk to Steven, crazy man.”

She pats my chest, turning around to go resume her task.

Laugh all she wants, but I mean it. I won‘t have some imbecile taking my place in her life, especially when she’s entrusted me with all that she has.

I follow the rug-covered stairs and make my way to the top, already seeing Steven in another spare room, removing his drenched clothing. Walking to the entrance of the room, I knock on it before walking in.

“Having fun?” I ask.

He raises his head to look at me before pulling his shirt over it.

“Her cousins are sick, but I’m freezing,”

he says, shaking out his hair after his shirt falls to the ground.

Backing away from flying droplets, I chuckle”

Do you not do these things with your friends, back home?”

I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me as another question rolls out.

The joy in his face melts away as he glances at me again, and in return, my smile dilutes to a scowl.

“Wanna talk about it?”

I try my luck at one more question. He picks up a pair of track pants to cover his reddened legs,

that are probably ice cold, and slides them up his lower body before sitting on the bed.

“I don’t have friends like that. Why do you assume that I do? And college is even lonelier,”

he grumbles with vexation.

“I didn’t know, Steven. I’m sorry,”

I answer in a relaxed tone, shutting the door behind me gently before taking a seat next to him.

“Jake moved to Texas. He was the only person I considered to be a real friend,”

he tells me.

I nod, listening, then offer what I think is my attempt at brotherly advice”

Maybe things will change at university? You’ve only been there for a couple of months.”

He shakes his head”

I’m not good at that. I get along with the guys at the skate park, but it’s complicated,”

he says, looking in the area in front of him.

I rest my hands on my lap, fishing for a way to further the conversation.

“What about it is complicated?”

I question.

He side eyes me then looks down”

I don’t know if telling you is a good idea.”

“Oh.”

I look down as well, nodding”

I get it. You know, not everything is my business.”

He takes a deep, uneasy breath, wiping his eyes with the bottom of his shirt.

“I couldn’t tell Mom, though. So please don’t judge me.”

He drops his shirt, finding no use in it as tears keep forming.

My lip turns down even more, I lift my hand to his back to rub it”

I’m not going to. You should never think that I will. I don’t have any room to.”

He sniffles, scrunching one side of his face before coughing softly”

Jake was more than a friend to me. He was there for me when Mom was dying. The skating thing was something I got from him. From his group of friends. And he’s gone now. Completely.”

He balls his fists up.

“He was your best friend. I get it, Steven. That’s hard for anybody,”

I console him, petting the back of his head.

He snaps a teary-eyed, somber glare at me, his eyelids filling up with more tears as he speaks”

No, it’s not. Not when he was my boyfriend.”

His voice breaks”

And he just ended it all, right when I needed him the most. I told him I didn’t care about the distance, but it wasn’t enough…”

My heart eases down to the pit of my stomach and my body feels heavier than normal, listening as he finally breaks the last

wall between us, baring everything and placing everything on the table. This entire time he’s been running away for comfort in his relationship, and hiding it so well. I believed that I was the one with all the secrets, but I’ve never been more than wrong.

“You have to say something,”

he commands, taking in my expression.

I take hold of the back of his neck, pulling his body into mine for a deep hug, kissing his head”

It’ll all be okay. I might not have been there before, but I’m learning. I’m never gonna judge you, Steven. I don’t care who you like, or love, or who you wanna be with forever, as long as it means you’re safe and happy.”

When my words slip, he returns the hug, holding onto me with a soft whimper, “Okay,”

he sniffles”

Can I please come back to your place? If it’s okay,”

he whispers into my shirt.

“You mean home? I think that would be better for you. For both of us,” I admit.

He squeezes me tighter, gripping the fabric of my shirt. His hands refuse to let go, and we stay there.