Page 14 of Beautiful Small Things

“James, you look so grown up,” Colby says. I guess she’s forgiven. I strut my way across the room to check out the cookies I made especially for Marcus earlier today. They are quarterback Santas throwing football-shaped snowflakes. It took all day to get them right. I know he will appreciate the effort.

I hear the front door open over the sound of Perry Como’s Christmas Classics and the butterflies in my stomach begin line dancing. I can hear the deep timber of Marcus’s voice as he greets Callan and Colby, Callan’s parents, and then my own.

On shaky legs, I step outside the kitchen and see something that makes my heart drop to my butthole and my butterflies die of angry adrenaline poisoning.

Marcus is with a woman. They are holding hands and laughing at something Callan is saying. I hate Callan at this moment. He’s a traitor. Not that he could possibly know the innermost workings of a female teenager’s mind, but I don’t care right now. How could he let Marcus bring this terribly attractive woman into my home?

She’s tall and shapely, with big boobs and a small waist. She’s wearing a gorgeous red dress, cute cowgirl boots, and sleek, perfect hair. I suddenly feel like a clown masquerading as a woman. I’m standing there staring at the picture-perfect Barbie and Ken doll couple on their way to a skiing trip in Aspen, with a cookie in my hands that looks like Sloth from ‘The Goonies’ throwing a white piece of dookie.

I attempt to turn and haul my ass back to my room, but as I spin, my stupid heel gets stuck in the carpet, and I twist my knee. It’s the same knee that’s been giving me problems with dancing. I’ve slightly torn my medial collateral ligament already, and it hasn’t quite healed. My weight settles on it, and I go down like a sack of sad potatoes.

“James, are you alright?” my mother shrieks. Shut up, woman. You’re calling attention to me.

“What happened?” my dad bellows from over at the spiked eggnog punch bowl.

“Nothing happened,” I snap. “I’m fine!”

Of course, Barbie and Ken Take Aspen rush over to me, and I pray that I will die of embarrassment before they reach me. No such luck.

Marcus kneels and gently touches my leg. Hmmm. This isn’t so bad.

“Tell me where it hurts,” he says as he palpates my knee and calf. ‘Only my pride and heart’ is what I’m about to say when he presses on the inside of my knee, causing me to squeal out in pain.

“Have you had MCL pain before?” he asks, with a concerned face.

“Like the phone company?” Barbie questions with big, empty eyes. Wow. She’s a complete moron. I’ve never been so disappointed in Marcus.

He chuckles slightly. “No, Babe, that’s MCI.”

“Oh,” she laughs, as though she didn’t just make herself look as dumb as a box of hair.

“Stacy, can you get us some ice?” he asks, with my legs still firmly settled in his large, strong hands.

“I’ll show you where,” Colby offers. Way to go, Sis! Get this nitwit out of here.

Marcus turns back to me and smiles. “Let’s get this elevated,” he says, slipping his arms underneath me and lifting me in one graceful swoop while I put my arms around his neck. This is exactly how I imagined him carrying me over the threshold on our wedding night, and it does not disappoint.

He sets me on the couch and grabs a pillow from the chair to elevate my leg.

“How do you know how to do this kind of thing?” I ask, finally finding my voice.

“I’ve taken Anatomy and Physiology,” he says. “Plus, I see a lot of injuries in football.”

“Plus, you’ve been an amateur gynecologist for years,” Callan says in a whisper that is only meant for the two of them. They start giggling like idiots as I roll my eyes and glare at Callan. He catches the look and immediately stops laughing. Callan Prince knows better than to mess with me.

Stacy the imbecile returns with a bag of frozen peas. “Here you go, Jane,” she says.

I’m about to lose my shit at this point. Like, actually stuff the bag of peas down her throat. Then Marcus says, “It’s James, Stac,” I feel better for 2.3 seconds until he adds, “Baby James.”

“No one calls me that anymore!” I snap, causing everyone to jump back and stare at me wide-eyed. I feel the heat traveling up my spine to my neck as everyone looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“We need to get that knee looked at, James,” Dad says. I can feel the pressure in my chest beginning to rise up into my throat and I try to force it down. My cheeks heat and my eyes sting. Not only did I embarrass myself, but I saw a side of Marcus I’m actually disgusted with. I would have thought he’d have better taste. He’s just like every other guy. He only cares about looks and sex.

But more than any of that, my leg is killing me and I’m actually terrified to hear that I’ve hurt myself worse and will be out of dance for even longer.

At that thought, the tears that had been creeping up my chest and made a home at the back of my throat finally unleash in a sob as heavy tears flow steadily down my face.

“Daddy!” I cry into his shoulder as he picks me up.