Hold on to whatever keeps you warm inside. —Such Gold, Sycamore

____________________________________

KATIE 

DECEMBER // WEEK 3

"Katie?" I heard a very shocked, matronly voice call out my name. I opened my eyes to see Mrs. Hollis, Isabel's mom staring down at me with concern written all over her face.

"Hi," I answered casually, like it was totally normal for her to find me sitting on the ground with my back up against her front door. Yep. Totally normal. "How are you?" I asked, continuing with my easy going façade. This threw her even more off-guard.

"I'm fine, dear. I didn't know you were coming over tonight." Me either.

"Well it's Thursday," I stated the obvious hoping some sort of realization would slam into her like an 18-wheeler. Mrs. Hollis, who I liked to refer to as Sue, just stared back at me. The Realization Truck bypassed Sue and slammed right into me. "It's Thursday," I repeated but with much more purpose and determination. I scrambled to my feet and darted past Sue, making my way into the Hollis's kitchen. 7:57pm. The Vampire Diaries started in three minutes. Three minutes! I completely forgot! Isabel's mom probably thought I was deranged. Come on, Isabel, you're my other half. You're supposed to sense stuff likes this. This is when you come rescue me from this high awkward encounter with your mother so I don't have to explain myself.

As if on cue, Isabel bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Thank, God you're here! I thought you'd forgotten." I did. I was preoccupied with my father and then Jake Roswell came to rescue me. She grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the stairs. "Katie and I are gonna go watch Vampire Diaries, mom! Don't look so shocked. It's Thursday," she smiled and her mom deflated with a sigh of relief that neither she, nor I was going crazy.

Once Isabel had closed the door all hell broke loose in my opinion if you ask me, but then again, nobody really does. "You're late! Vampire Diaries starts in—" she looked down at her watch, "2 minutes! It's Thursday and you're late! You're never late! Why are you late?" Isabel was walking around me in circles repeatedly, throwing her hands up into the air.

"I'm late because—" I started to reply, smiling slightly feeling my stomach leap just thinking about what had happened with Jake... but then the TV in Isabel's room started talking.

"Shut up! Shut up! I don't care why you're late. You can tell me on a commercial." Her words came out rushed. "By the way, I'm the new manager of the boys' hockey team at King High. So, I don't care if you hate hockey, you are now obligated to go to every single game with me," Isabel said, and then there was silence as I listened to Ian Somerhalder—who played my absolute favorite character: Damon Salvatore—lull me into a melodic trance. I didn't even process the fact that going to all the games would mean seeing my father, and at that moment, I didn't even care cause Damon Salvatore was beautiful.

Commercial break #1: Get food

Commercial break #2: Get ice cream

Commercial break #3 and up: Talk about what had happened so far on our favorite show.

How can Stefan not remember Elena or Damon? I can't believe that Elena almost kissed Stefan! My mind was racing. It was pure torture watching The Vampire Diaries but Isabel and I loved it.

△

"But you always stay over on Thursdays," Isabel whined as we walked out of her room. I had just broke the news to her that I wouldn't be spending the night, even though I do every Thursday. "Cause ya know, your mom takes the night off." Isabel cast her eyes downwards towards the floor, avoiding my gaze. She knew I didn't really like talking about my mother. She was always the centre-of-attention at home, why did she have to be the centre-of-attention at Isabel's house as well?

"Yeah I know, I just have a feeling tonight. Something tells me my darling mother forgot it was Thursday," I sighed standing at the top of her stairs. AKA she didn't feel like taking the night off.

"Okay..." Isabel answered defeatedly knowing there was nothing she could really do to persuade me.

"Can you pick me up tomorrow morning?" I asked Isabel as we were walking down the stairs.

"For school?" she clarified.

"Uh-huh." I nodded once we got to the bottom since I didn't have a very good track record with walking and talking, especially when stairs were involved.

"Sure, but where's your car?" she asked me, clearly puzzled. "Didn't you drive here tonight?" she looked over at me.

"Uhh, not exactly," I mumbled. Isabel opened her front door and peered out at her driveway. Sure enough, my car was nowhere in sight. Isabel was dumbfounded and I took that opportunity to slip past her onto the porch.

"Katie..." Isabel began

"I'll tell you everything on the way to school tomorrow. Pick me up at 8." I told Isabel with a smile. Both of us had a free block first period on Fridays so we always went out to breakfast. It was always nice to get some extra sleep considering my mother's nocturnal schedule.

"See you tomorrow morning." Isabel hugged me goodnight.

"Night, Is," I hugged her tight.

"Hey, Kitkat!" Isabel called out. I stopped halfway down her brick path and turned back towards her.

"Watch out for werewolves on the loose! It's a full moon tonight," she joked. I looked up to see the moon rising in the sky and half-expected a witch to fly by on a broomstick.

"Yeah the moon makes people do crazy things." I laughed and made my way home. I only lived a few streets over from Isabel so the walk was short.

△

I walked into my dark house with a feeling of resentment burning inside of me. Why couldn't my mother just get her life together and pay our heating bill. I would even settle for it getting paid every other month. And I would really appreciate it if our fridge contained something more than sour milk and a rotting half-eaten banana. Am I asking for too much? A chill crept down my spine as the cold seeped into me. I found a blanket on the sofa and wrapped it around me, trying to keep all the warmth from escaping me. I trudged up our creaky stairs towards my room. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep forever. That wouldn't be so bad.

I was awoken to the sound of my door opening. After all these years of my mother bringing strange people home, I was such I light sleeper that I was beginning to wonder if I ever really fell asleep at all. The familiar sound of my mother's heavy footsteps greeted me as she collapsed onto my bed with a groan. "Hi, honey!" she stared up at me.

"Don't lie on your back, you'll choke." I answered her mundanely thinking of the last time my mother slept on her back.

"You're such a good daughter!" she smiled that sickly sweet, drunken smile—the smile I hated.

"I wish I could say the same for you." I muttered under my breath as my mother curled up into the fetal position. No. Not happening. "You are not sleeping in my bed tonight, mom. You have your own bed." I felt like I was talking to a child, and in all reality, I was. I got up out of my bed and held my hand out for her.

"Coffee." She disregarded me.

"I'll get you coffee if you get in your own bed." I made a deal with her that I knew she wouldn't refuse.

"Scone," she demanded as I walked her out of my bedroom and down the hallway into her room.

"You don't even like scones, mom," I told her, trying not to roll my eyes. I pulled back the covers of her unmade bed and waited for her to get in.

"I want a scone, Katherine," she growled at me.

"Mom, the last time I got you a scone you threw it at me. Don't you want a bagel?" I tried to reason with her.

"Nope!" She popped her 'p'.

"Fine," I rubbed my eyes. "I will get you a scone, but only if you get in bed and stay in bed." I am never having kids. Ever.

"I want pumpkin coffee," my mother narrowed her eyes at me.

"Why?" I sneered at her. "You hate that as well."

"No, I don't!" she stomped her foot. Why was she doing this to me?

"Okay, whatever I'll get your stupid scone and pumpkin coffee." I told her, giving her that sickly sweet I'm-going-to-kill-you smile.

"Thank you, Katie." My mother tried to kiss my cheek and missed. This resulted in her losing her balance and almost falling to the floor. Good thing I was there so she could put her entire weight on me. It wasn't like I weighed all of 100 pounds or anything. I tried my best to hold her up and with one last final shove I pushed her back into her bed. She landed on her back with her arms spread out.

"Roll over onto your side, mom." I left her with one last piece of advice before I stormed back into my room. I grabbed my wallet that I kept stashed in the bottom of my backpack. I brought it with me wherever I went because God only knows when mom was going to need more money. I opened it just to make sure there was money in there. I saw the thirty dollars that Ava had given me and zipped my wallet closed with satisfaction.

This time, I remembered not only to put a coat on, but shoes as well. I ran a brush through my hair and checked the time before leaving: 3:27am. Perfect. Just perfect. I speed-walked to the coffee shop, feeling alive as my lungs burned from the icy coldness. The moon had clouded over and was illuminating the clouds in front of it.

I tore my gaze from the moon as I arrived at Blackie's and didn't even acknowledge the truck in the parking lot or the person who was sitting at a table with his back to me. I smiled when I saw Amanda waiting patiently for me.

"Good morning, Katie," she told me, her long black hair braided once again. This time, it had a little ribbon tied around her hair tie at the bottom of her braid.

"Hey, Amanda," I took my hands out of my sweatshirt pockets. "In addition to my usual order, I need a medium pumpkin coffee, a raspberry scone, and a blueberry scone." I told her. I might has well give my mother some options with her scones. Either way, she was still going to hate them and probably throw them at me.

"Does your mother have someone staying over who has a preference for coffee and scones?" Amanda asked me.

"No, my mother has declared she loves pumpkin coffee and scones." I told her sarcastically, heavily emphasizing the word 'scones.' I couldn't help but start laughing.

"I'm surprised your mother even knows what a scone is." Amanda laughed with me as she dropped a brown paper bag in front of me before walking off to prepare my coffee order.

"Amanda, there's more than two scones in here," I called over to her after looking inside the bag.

"Yeah, there's some for you and Isabel," she replied easily returning with another brown paper bag and three coffees.

"Amanda, I can't let you do that." I tried to hand the bag back to her, but Amanda, being Amanda, refused.

"Just like I can't let you pay me, so put your money away, Katie." Amanda smiled, drumming her fingers on the counter. They were painted black, as usual, except they were decorated with red, green, and white stripes. "How festive," I thought with a smile. I hated the holidays, specifically Christmas. My lovely father decided to walk out of my life four days before Christmas. He really earned #1 Dad that year.

"Thanks, Amanda." I gave her half a smile before sticking a few dollars in her tip jar. "You can't stop me from tipping you." I stuck my tongue out at her. She just shrugged and reached for a bag of dark roasted coffee beans.

"Hey guess what," Amanda started with one of her smug smiles as she poured the coffee beans into one of the coffee machines.

"What?" I couldn't help but play along.

"It's almost our anniversary," she mentioned, bringing up the day her and I first met. It was a Monday, and what a shitty Monday it was—the day after my dad left me... well it was technically the morning after, but whatever.

I thought for a moment, tilting my head to right, something I always do when I need to really think. "18 days," I nodded stuffing my hands into the pockets of my old sweatshirt.

"December 22nd ," Amanda rested her elbows on the counter. "It'll be five years,"

"Now I remember why I hate the holidays." I half-joked. The morning after my dad walked out was when my mother first begged me to go to the coffee shop. She was so incredibly hungover that I almost felt bad for her. So around 8am on December 22nd , five years ago, I met Amanda. "Bye, Amanda," I nodded at her.

"Have a nice day, Katie," she waved before I turned around to walk out the door. I almost dropped everything, including the coffee when I saw him. Jacob Roswell. I didn't want a repeat of last time, so I firmly clenched around the tray of coffee. Whenever his icy gaze just happened to fall upon me, I became a deer in the headlights. I froze, staring back and I looked him over: disheveled hair, sticking up in every which direction; dark circles under his eyes, making him appear almost zombie like; and to top it all off, he wasn't wearing any shoes.

I finally snapped out of whatever hold he had on me and made my way over to him and sat down next to him. Katie Hawthorne did not make her way over to guys. Ever. Katie Hawthorn also didn't sit at the same table as guys, especially not next to them. But tonight, I wasn't feeling like Katie Hawthorne.

"Try not to spill any coffee on me tonight, okay?" Jake greeted me tiredly.

"Where's your polka dot socks?" I couldn't help but joke, shyly.

"In the wash," came his clever reply and for a moment I couldn't tell if he was being serious. I eyed his plain white socks with a grey stripe on them near the ankle. The frayed cuffs on his jeans caught my attention and I couldn't stop my eyes from traveling up his legs. I paused to admire the hole in his faded jeans, just above the knee and I almost reached out to touch it. My eyes resumed wandering, noticing his belt, his hockey shirt, his neck and finally came to rest on his face. "Done checking me out yet?" he tried not to smile.

"I—uh—I..." I stammered, my face turning 50 shades of red.

"I'll let it go, just this one time, but only if you tell me your name." Jake Roswell leaned across the table till his face was precisely 6 inches from mine. His hand was exactly two centimeters from mine and I wanted so badly to touch it.

Why would he want to know my name? I'm nobody. Surely he must have heard Amanda say it when we were talking just now. My mind could not process this much, this early in the morning. "What is this?" I gestured with my index finger from me to him and back again.

"Talking," he told me. "This," he repeated my gesture. "is talking."

I took my coffee out from its little home in the tray and took a sip. The hot coffee traveled down my throat and a feeling of warmth spread from my stomach down to my toes. I couldn't tell if it was from the coffee or because Jake's finger was now touching mine. "Alright, let's talk," I smirked at him, leaning back in my chair, and in the process my hand managed to slip underneath his. No amount of heating bills could compare to the warmth I was feeling right now. I was warm and Jake Roswell was the reason.