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Snowflakes glistened as they fell to the ground, squelching under the sound of Sam’s boots. She wrapped her leather jacket around her tighter, shivering at the wind’s icy touch as it kissed her cheeks. Every breath was visible in the frigid morning, as steam slipped from her frozen lips. A rosy tinge had appeared on her cheeks where the blood rushed; this left her fingers numb, but mostly from rubbing them raw.
Despite the deep chill that settled in her body, Sam loved this time of year. The beauty of a frosty landscape, the warmth from friends and family’s holiday cheer, and hot chocolates next to the fireplace, while her dog lies on her lap. Snow represented more than white slush underneath her boots, or snowflakes that littered her clothes; for Sam, it was a symbol of cleansing—a fresh change was on the horizon. It also meant that Christmas, her favourite holiday, was coming up.
Christmas had always held a special place in her heart. Watching eyes light up as hands eagerly ripped through corny-themed wrapping paper. Stockings filled with chocolates and candies. A table full of laughter and joy, digging into the delicious feast. Christmas lights twinkled on every house in the street, swirling in all patterns and colours. But what she loved most? The Secret Santa gift swap that her friend group had done for the past few years.
It was tradition. The friend group met at the Washingtons’ house, because it was the biggest and their parents were never home. Then they gathered around the fireplace, getting drunk off laughter—and alcohol—before showing off what each person brought to the potluck. Then finally, a few hours after lunch, when everyone had calmed down and were full, it was time to pull out the presents stored under the tree. It was a lot of effort, but Sam loved her friends—making it all worth it.
This year, she’d gotten Emily; the brunette’s Wishlist was about as long as the practice wall she climbed on the weekends. Last year’s gift recipient was Josh, who was a lot easier and cheaper, but Sam wasn’t worried about money. As long as a wide smile was on their face, Sam was happy. While she definitely preferred thoughtful gifts, Emily was materialistic, so the Saw collection she’d found at the op shop worked for Josh, but something similar wouldn’t work for her.
With the deftly wrapped present under her arm, she knocked rapidly against the door. It swung open to reveal Josh, who wrapped his arms around her immediately. Squeezing her tight, she relaxed into the hug—he was so big and soft, like hugging a teddy bear. “Sammy, you’re the first person here.”
“Seriously?” she laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. He nodded for her to come in, and she eagerly did. She kicked her boots against the bottom of the doorframe, the snow flickering off, and took them off. Unwrapping her ruby scarf, she hung it on the railing while taking off her leather jacket to hang on the wall. Josh yanked her fluffy hat, putting it on his head instead and poking his tongue out at her. She scoffed, nudging him with her shoulder. “Keep it.”
“Suits me, don’t you think?” he teased.
“Oh yeah, makes you so sexy.” She crossed her arms over her chest as he posed in several unusual ways, flaunting himself. She scoffed, walking past him and into the living room, where she made a beeline for the tree. Placing the gift underneath, she saw three other gifts already patiently waiting—her reindeer wrapping paper standing out like a sore thumb. One was flawlessly wrapped in elegant green, with the name ‘Jessica’ on it. Sam assumed Josh or Hannah wrapped the smallest one hastily—and with more sticky tape than deep red wrapping paper; both were atrocious gift-wrappers. That gift was dedicated to Matt and looked the size of a DVD. The third was in a long, snowy, Christmas-tree themed gift bag, addressed to Mike—alcohol, no doubt.
It was essential that no one knew who each person’s Secret Santa was—it was the only secret Hannah could keep from Sam. However, each person had a tell. The various wrapping abilities of the Washington siblings. Chris always tried to show everyone up, wrapping the presents nothing like how they appeared, whereas Ashley left no room for guessing what the gift was. Jessica used the same bauble-themed wrapping paper each year—no matter how many times Emily told her it defeated the point of Secret Santa. Matt could only wrap boxes, so he’d always bring a box-shaped present. Mike often forgot until the day of, so he’d put some money or a gift card in an envelope and call it a day. Emily and Sam were wild cards; however, seemingly the only people who knew the point of the game.
Walking out of the kitchen, Hannah ran up to her best friend. “Hey,” she exclaimed, before pulling Sam into an enveloping hug. “What’d you bring for lunch?”
“Besides my tofurkey?” Hannah fake-gagged before a grin spread across her face. “I brought my Mac n three cheeses,” she replied, reaching into her bag and pulling out the container. Hannah clapped her hands excitedly; she grasped the meal from Sam and rushed back to the kitchen. The blonde sighed, happy to take off the backpack that was weighing her down.
A ring of the doorbell made Sam’s ears perk up. There was only one other person in the entire friend group who respected being early—Emily. Taking her seat on the couch, Sam watched carefully as she entered the room, offering a soft wave, before gently tucking the present under the tree. Emily slinked onto the couch next to her, oozing elegance and style as she did. Everything she did, every move she made, what she wore and even how she smelt—honey, vanilla, and whiskey—was all carefully constructed to appear classy. She was rich, and she wanted everyone to know it.
“Hey, Sam. How was your competition?” she asked, inspecting her perfectly manicured nails before glancing up at the blonde. Emily always had to be half-interested in what you were saying, and half-absorbed with herself. She had to maintain a ‘cool girl’ image, and that involved appearing not to care despite how much she actually did. “Rock climbing, right?”
“Hi, Emily. It was okay, I didn’t place, but there’s always next time,” she replied, amused at the way Emily was presenting herself. Sam couldn’t count the nights Emily would call her, asking for advice or sobbing about her deep insecurities—but in public? It was like a different person. Sam could see right through Emily, and that terrified the brunette.
Emily clicked in disappointment, looking up from her nails and sighing. “Maybe you just need a little friendly competition. I could always start up again,” she mused, breaking into a grin. Before Sam had time to respond, the doorbell rang, interrupting them. “Is Josh just going to wait by the door until everyone arrives? Or. . .”
“I think he’s waiting for someone in particular,” Sam replied.
“Not you?”
If anyone asked Sam, she’d blame the blush on sitting too close to the fireplace. However, Emily could read the blonde just as well—she knew what it meant but wouldn’t say anything. “Chris, I think. Heard he’s bringing the booze.”
“Mike’s bringing drinks,” Emily corrected, her eyebrows lifted.
“. . . Pretty sure Chris told me he was.”
The two stared at each other for a minute, coming to the same conclusion simultaneously. “They both are.”
“Welp, guess we’re getting smashed this year,” Sam commented, glancing at the door—waiting for someone to enter.
Everyone arrived in waves. Matt and Ashley arrived next—he’d gotten his licence recently, and they were next-door neighbours, so it made sense to carpool. Then it was Jessica, who’d intended on being fashionably late; she was shocked to discover they were still missing a few. When Chris finally showed up, the group’s cheers carried down the street. By this point, the pleasant pile under the tree was full, and they didn't anticipate Mike having a present bigger than an envelope, so they assumed it would work out. That’s why it was a surprise to see him with a casket of alcohol in one hand and a large box in the other.
Crowded around the fireplace, the party finally got into full swing. Rambunctious laughter, Christmas joy, and warmth filled the air as the friend group found themselves locked in a conversation that flowed seamlessly—this was unusual, considering the ‘friend group’ mostly consisted of two smaller groups, which were then also separated into pairs. But this party was different; Christmas was the one time of year they remembered they were friends, not just people who hung out.
“Okay, let’s look around, see who put in more effort,” Josh announced, inspecting the large kitchen island filled with different pots and plates of food. He approached the first one, “Sam’s mac n three cheeses.” The blonde smiled, eagerly anticipating his next words. “A favourite of everyone here, with generous helpings, a lot of love and effort put into it, as well as just delicious. I will give you. . . the keys to the city.”
Everyone cheered excitedly, clapping their hands and being overwhelmingly annoying—but Sam wouldn’t change anything. She loved it when her friend acted overly cheesy. “Next, Beth’s brownie. A little burnt—”
“Hey!”
“On the sides, but deliciously gooey on the inside. I’ll give you clemency.” This earned a nice round of applause. “Hannah’s mashed potatoes and green beans, a Christmas classic, however, are a little basic. I’m sure it’s delicious and generous with portions. You also receive clemency.”
“Why are you being so harsh on us?” Hannah pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Just you wait. I’m giving Mike the reverse bear trap for bringing alcohol,” he replied, causing everyone to look around awkwardly. “Come on, guys, remember? Saw with the. . .” He gestured to his face, showing what it did, but still no one laughed. “Okay, whatever. Chris, you get the rack.”
“The rack?” Chris sputtered.
“Yeah, you and Mike brought the same thing. Neither of you are getting off easy.” Josh glanced around and noticed how antsy everyone was getting, wanting to hurry up and eat lunch. Sighing, he knew the show was over. “Everyone else, you’re free to go. Except for Ashley, you also get the keys to the city. That lasagna looks awesome.” The redhead smiled graciously, warm inside from the compliment. “Oh, and I also get the keys for grilling all this meat—” a cacophony of voices and clashes interrupted him, as everyone scrambled to grab plates and cutlery.
Gathered around the table, everyone began piling their plates high. Each person tried a different plate, ensuring they sampled each dish, as well as served themselves a large heaping of Sam’s mac n cheese before it ran out.
Scraps on plates, hands on rock-hard stomachs and smaller conversations between a few of them signalled the end of lunch. No one had made a move to clean up yet, nor headed over to the Christmas tree for the highly anticipated gift swap. It was this kind of moment, where everyone was stuck in a blissful limbo, that Sam enjoyed the most. The intimacy of sharing joy with her friends without the loudness—it was the calm before the storm.
However, all good things must end. With a clap, Josh stood up and announced it was time for the Secret Santa. Hannah and Beth scrambled to clean up, with help from Sam, Matt, and Ashley, while everyone else headed towards the tree. “Could use a little help here,” Sam called out.
“You five got it,” Mike announced, winking at them. Sam rolled her eyes, catching a look from Beth, who was thinking the same thing—get a load of this guy. The five of them didn’t need the help in the end, quickly stacking the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher and covering the uneaten food on the counter. To no one’s surprise, Sam’s mac n cheese was completely gone.
One by one, the five of them returned and claimed a seat around the tree, while Chris pulled out a Santa hat from an unknown hiding spot. With jazz hands, he announced, “Merry Christmas! Time for the annual Secret Santa gift exchange to begin.”
“Get on with it, you dork,” Ashley teased, a slight blush on her cheeks.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, Miss Brown. Let’s start with. . .” He rummaged around, trying to find the first gift to hand out. His hands settled on a perfectly wrapped green box. “Jessica!”
The blonde squealed eagerly, reaching out for it and immediately ripping into the paper—the effort Beth had gone to wrapping it was lost on the girl. “Oh my god, I just ran out of this perfume!” she exclaimed, tearing the box apart and spraying some on her neck. “Okay, for my first guess. . . I’m going to say Emily?”
“Emily, are you Jessica’s secret Santa?” Chris asked, receiving a vigorous head shake from the brunette in response. “Nope, try again. Two more guesses.”
Taking a second, Jessica locked eyes with Beth and knew. “Beth?” The girl nodded, a small smile on her face—it felt nice to be appreciated. “Thank you so much! I can’t believe you listened to me when I said that.”
“What can I say? I’m just super observant,” she replied with a shrug, leaning back on her hands. Emily snorted—receiving a dirty glare from Beth—but remained muted.
It went silent again, as everyone waited patiently for Chris to pull out another present. This time, it was the large box Mike brought in, which defeated the purpose of the game. “As per tradition, the previous gifter becomes the recipient. Beth, this is for you.”
Taking the box, she eagerly shook it and grinned in response. “I think I know what this is,” she stated, squinting her eyes in concentration. Ripping the box up, she pulled out a soccer ball with a red, orange, white and pink design. “Thanks, Mike.”
“Saw it and thought of you. Y’know. Soccer. Lesbian flag,” he teased, earning a few laughs. Chris handed him the Christmas tree gift bag, which Mike accepted graciously. Well, as gracious as Michael Munroe could be. Pulling out a spiced rum, he kissed the bottle obnoxiously. “Thank you.”
“Alright, three chances. Use them wisely,” Chris reminded.
It was quiet as Mike silently pondered who his Secret Santa was. “Sam?” the blonde shook her head, causing him to sigh. “Jessica?” The blonde also shook her head. He swore under his breath, down to one last guess. His eyes landed on Matt, and the memory of telling the jock what brand he specifically wanted came to him. With a nod, he smiled. “Okay, it was Matt.”
“It actually wasn’t,” Matt replied, causing Mike’s jaw to drop.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have our first loser for the night,” Chris teased, eliciting the group’s laughter. “Would the real Santa please show themselves?”
Josh raised his hand lazily, nodding at Mike with a smirk. “Enjoy, bro.”
Throwing a box in Josh’s lap, Chris was eager to see his best friend’s reaction. Eagerly unwrapping the gift, he laughed at his present hidden amongst the wrapping paper. After a minute, he showed off his new pig mask. “What is that?” Emily asked, face furrowing in disgust.
“That is next year’s Halloween costume,” he joked, pulling the mask over his head. He pretended to scare Sam, who only rolled her eyes playfully and shook her head. “Sammy!” he exclaimed, clutching her shoulders and shaking her.
“Is that a guess?” Chris asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope,” he replied, ripping the mask off. “Ashley Brown is my guess,” he replied.
“Huh. W-What? How did you—” she sputtered.
“Good guess,” he lied, knowing that the way she wrapped it was a dead giveaway—as well as his best friend was grinning like an idiot for a reason. Chris knew he wasn’t technically supposed to know who Josh’s secret Santa was, but when Ashley had come up to him begging for help, completely lost on what to get him, he knew he had to intervene. Besides, it was a win-win—his best friend got a funny gift, and Ashley was grateful to him.
Chris passed the next gift delicately to her. It was flawlessly wrapped in silver, with a little red bow on top. Ashley was gentle as she opened it, smiling when she saw what was inside. It was a little red notebook with her initials carved into the top, and a little silver pen on the side. She opened the first page and saw the inscription ‘For all your stories.’ Her eyes glanced up, and she couldn’t contain her blush. “Is this from you?” she asked.
Clearing his throat, Chris struggled to maintain eye contact. “You got me,” he joked, raising his hands. She leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek in gratitude—an exchange of knowing looks flew around the room.
“Thank you.”
The sweet moment lingered—Chris ensured he soaked it up. “Okay, Chris, you’re next,” Jess called out, realising she sounded too eager, and focused on her nails suddenly.
With a snort, Chris nodded his head. “Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Jess.” She continued to ignore him, pretending that she was acting inconspicuously. He picked up a small box and shook it gently. “So, I guess we’re all doing boxes this year?” There was a sea of nods as he smiled. “Alright, what’s behind box number five?” he mumbled to himself. Ripping it open, he revealed a new set of headphones and pumped his fist. “Thanks, Jess, I needed this ever since I accidentally rage threw my last ones.”
“You what?” Sam asked with a laugh.
“It’s not important,” he brushed off before looking back at the gift in his hands. “Oh, damn. I guess the circle ended.” There was a chorus of groans at the minor inconvenience.
“We were doing so well, too. It was so smooth,” Josh sighed.
Everyone watched as Chris moved his hands above the gift—he dragged it out, causing a few impatient bemoans. Finally, it landed on a neatly wrapped black box with a small white piece of paper on the side. “Emily, here you go,” he said, passing the gift along, watching her raise a curious eyebrow.
Carefully, she unwrapped it—procedurally, like she was performing surgery—making sure not to rip the paper to shreds like the others. Her jaw dropped as she pulled out a chic silver hip flask with the words ‘Honor roll, bitches’ engraved on it. “Okay, now this is cool.” She looked around, knowing that only three people remained. There was only one person who’d buy such a thoughtful gift. “Sam?” The blonde nodded, enjoying the way Emily’s eyes lit up. She got up quickly, enveloped her in a tight hug, and sat back down. “I love it. It’ll make clubbing cheaper.”
“You’ll never spend thirty dollars on two shots again, huh?” Sam teased, causing Emily to roll her eyes playfully.
Seeing the medium-sized box Chris held, Sam knew which of the three people left was her secret Santa. She didn’t care what was inside, only that Emily had loved her gift. Now, with joy in the air and the assurance that the brunette loved her gift, Sam smiled and happily shared this moment with the rest of her friends. Inside the box was an inflatable pool toy, and she furrowed her brows in confusion. “It’s for your dog. I know he loves your pool. Probably a bad gift to get in winter, though,” Matt announced, shrinking when he realised he’d given away his identity—even though Sam already knew.
“It’s perfect. Max will love it. Thank you,” she replied, smiling appreciatively. Matt nodded, feeling warm inside—he wasn’t the best gift giver, but this year had been successful.
It got to the point in the game where guesses were forgotten. Usually, it would mean the last three people only got one guess each, but it became glaringly obvious who got what gift. Emily was growing restless as her gift still lay wrapped under the tree; it was going to be the last one opened, which placed impossibly high pressure on her. If Hannah hated it, they’d end the game with a stale taste. . .
Chris handed the awfully wrapped gift, making Hannah shrink—she had asked Beth to teach her, but her younger sister just had a talent Hannah did not possess. Matt smiled, unwrapping it carelessly—he didn’t care about the presentation, just the gift. “Aw, cool, how’d you know I loved Moulin Rouge!?” he asked, glancing up at Hannah. She shrugged shyly.
“I remember you said something about it once, and that you didn’t have the DVD, so I got it for you,” she replied sheepishly.
“Thanks, it’s amazing.”
Emily felt the urge to bite her nails—instead, she gripped the floor beneath her tightly. This was the moment; would Hannah hate her forever or love her present? Emily couldn’t decode for the life of her why it was so important that the younger girl loved her present. Was it because she needed to be the best? Or because Hannah gave a good gift, she should get one in return? Whatever it was, the way Chris was dragging the game on didn’t help calm her nerves.
“And finally, for the last present of the night, Miss Hannah Washington, your gift,” he handed it over to her. She took it gently, carefully unwrapping it—secretly jealous of Emily’s impeccable work—and let the anticipation tingle in the air. “Drumroll, everyone.” The sound of ten sets of hands slapping against their thighs ramped up the energy in the room, making Emily bite her bottom lip, before finally Hannah pulled out a lovely, silk black shirt.
The brunette ogled it for a moment, making Emily wait anxiously. Her eyes inspected every intricate detail; every stitch and pattern swirled into the shirt before she smiled and hugged it close to her chest. “It’s gorgeous, Em! Thank you so much,” she announced. Emily sighed in relief, a smirk appearing on her face.
Everyone spent the rest of the day gushing over presents, laughing over inside jokes, and enjoying each other’s company. It almost hurt when everyone had to leave, but an upcoming group trip in February ensured they wouldn’t wait too long before seeing each other again. Besides, there would always be other parties.
Sam walked Emily to her car, the snowflakes swirling around them, attaching themselves to every scrap of clothing. The crisp, wintry night air filled their lungs—Sam sucked in a deep breath, enjoying how it tingled and tasted. She loved this time of year.
The brunette whipped out her keys, unlocking her car before turning to pull the blonde into a hug. Both girls held each other tight, soaking up the warmth each other provided, and were too afraid to face the bitter cold once they pulled apart. “Thanks for the gift—it’s amazing,” Emily mumbled, leaning her cheek against Sam’s shoulder.
“I still can’t believe you’re a hip flask kind of gal,” Sam joked, lifting her head off Emily but still holding her close. “Especially since we both know you can afford those thirty-dollar shots—”
“Oh my God, not another word about those shots,” she groaned, eliciting laughter from both girls. It took a second for them to calm down before they sighed and stared at each other. The moonlight gleamed above them, illuminating their gorgeous faces. “Goodnight, Sam.”
“Night, Em.”
The blonde waved fondly, watching as the brunette hopped in the car and put it in reverse. Emily quickly waved back before looking out the back and swiftly pulling out of the Washington driveway.
Snow squelching under someone’s boots alerted Sam to a presence behind her. She wrapped her arms around her chest and turned around, tilting her head as Josh approached. “You sleeping over?” he asked, glancing at her small white car in the driveway.
“Yeah. I drank too—you know, I don’t think Emily should be driving. I know she stopped drinking a while ago, but. . .” Sam trailed off, her thumb coming to her mouth as she bit away at her nail.
Josh laughed and shook his head. “She’ll be fine. She lives like five minutes away. Besides, I doubt you’d be able to rip those keys out of her hands,” he joked.
Sam hummed in agreement, glancing at the floor. “Come on, let’s get inside before we freeze our assess off here,” she announced, eliciting another laugh from Josh. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her towards the warmth of the inside.