Nash is going to find out I’m me. It’s stupid to delay the inevitable, right?
What will he think? How will he feel?
He thinks he loves Kels.
I definitely like him.
He doesn’t hate me.
I tap back into my messages with Nash. All questions of love aside, I’m just so tired of lying to him. But it’s not like I can tell him the truth via a DM.
My phone buzzes. Three new messages.
I lock the screen and place it facedown on my night table, leaving all messages unanswered. I don’t want to lie anymore. Every single time Kels texts Nash, it’s a lie. I won’t tell him about the panel from behind a screen, where I’m going to have to match his enthusiasm about meeting and pretend like we haven’t already. I can’t do that.
Until Kels can be honest with Nash, it’s probably better she doesn’t say anything at all.
Nash to Kels, a week in December
Sat, Dec 14, 1:14 PM
Rumor has it Celeste Pham also got a panel spot. So I guess maybe we shouldn’t feel so bad that we’re not BookCon adequate.
Also, I have more REX. Whenever you’re ready for it.
2:31 PM
I’m going to assume you are intensely studying for midterms. Which is probably what I should be doing tbh …
8:34 PM
Sun, Dec 15, 11:31 AM
link: If Alanna LaForest is against F&Y, So Am I.
lol so now it’s actually pro-alanna to NOT see the movie? This is becoming more and more absurd …
I’ll be working on my portfolio (read: questioning everything) all day. Have you finished your application yet?
Mon, Dec 16, 3:37 PM
… Is everything okay? I don’t think we’ve gone a whole weekend without talking in literal YEARS? i don’t even think i’m being hyperbolic here.
Tues, Dec 17, 6:37 PM
Okay. I’d be legit concerned, but I know you’re fighting with trolls on twitter right now. What’s going on?
Thurs, Dec 19, 4:45 PM
So. Alanna tweeted and we’re not talking about it and that’s just fundamentally wrong.
Sat, Dec 21, 10:31 AM
I’m going back through our most recent messages and I’m just really confused? Are you mad at me?
Is it about Halle?
I HATE that I’m even asking that. But the last time we really talked was before the dance …
Sun, Dec 22, 4:54 PM
Kels … ?
SIXTEEN
December is a blur of midterms and awkward Nash. We’re not exactly avoiding each other. It’s more like we try too hard to pretend everything is fine. He’ll sit next to me at lunch to prove a point, but every time his arm accidentally brushes against mine, I am electrocuted. It’s a miracle I’m still alive, honestly.
In Kels land, I RSVP to the BookCon panel, pray that time slows down between now and the March announcement, and take a midterms hiatus. Am I avoiding Nash online? Absolutely. Am I still reading every message he sends me? Totally. Do I want to answer them? Of course.
I can’t.
Every time I think I’m ready to type words, I freeze. It’s the worst. I’ve never been so Halle online before. But the ability to maintain my persona for Nash has shattered, thanks to what is otherwise the best thing that has ever happened to me. Now that him finding out is inevitable, it’s impossible to be Kels.
So I’m not.
Kels is on hiatus. Halle has been taking midterms and polishing college applications.
There’s no time to tell Nash, even if I knew how to formulate the words. It makes matters worse that I can’t talk to my friends about this, that I can’t freak out about this mess I made. Samira’s reaction would be in cat memes. Elle would say, This is a shocking development, in a way that makes me know she’s rolling her eyes behind the screen. Amy would be no-chill flailing. But at this point, I’ve also managed to be absent from their conversations for so long that I don’t even know how to begin to insert myself back in.
So I don’t. For days. For weeks.
I’m on hiatus.
* * *
Before I know it, we’re lighting candles on the first night of Chanukah.
Real candles. Gramps doesn’t have an electric menorah like we’re used to. It’s late this year—the first night is just two days before Christmas Eve. Gramps’s menorah is the table centerpiece. Ollie does the honors, taking the lit shamash and lighting the first candle while Gramps mumbles the prayers under his breath. I just stand there and watch it burn, the one singular candle and the elevated shamash in the middle. The best part of Chanukah is the last night—it’s only when all nine candles are burning in unison that I can fully appreciate the story of the Maccabees and miracles.
“Check the applesauce?” Gramps asks, and I come out of my trance.
We’ve done the secular version of Chanukah my entire life. Exchanging gifts and eating boxed latkes from Trader Joe’s. Chanukah has never been a process or the kind of all-day prep that is associated with Thanksgiving. It has never been latkes from scratch and applesauce that simmers on the stovetop until the entire house smells like it.
In case it’s not obvious, Gramps loves Chanukah.
I set the silverware and fill glasses with water and we all settle around the burning menorah for our Chanukah dinner. Ollie, Gramps, and me—we’re a pretty great trio now, I think. Sure, it was a rocky start, but I can’t believe we’ve only been living with Gramps for four months, and how much has changed in those four months.
Ollie sits next to me, dramatically thwacking a tub of sour cream on the table. I spoon a generous amount of applesauce onto my latkes and give Ollie major side eye. I don’t know why latke toppings are so controversial. I just know that applesauce is the right choice, the only choice.
Ollie licks the sour cream spoon and I make gagging noises. We are the epitome of maturity.
I send Mom and Dad a Happy Chanukah message, along with a photo of my dinner plate and #TeamApplesauce. Ollie is the only #TeamSourCream mutant in the family.
Moments later, my phone buzzes with a text from Mom.
Mom
The superior topping!
6:14 PM
Ollie
#TeamSourCream4Life
6:16 PM
Dad
6:17 PM
Ollie looks up from his latkes. “Why are they even still awake?”
“Probably reviewing footage,” I say.
It’s almost one-thirty in Israel, but the better a project is going, the later my parents work into the night. At this point, Dad’s probably trying to wrap up and go to bed. But Mom’s glued to the raw footage. Every time Dad goes to press pause, Mom blocks the keyboard with her arms and says, Just five more minutes.
It’s the filmmaker equivalent of Just one more chapter.
Gramps joins us at the table, reaching for the applesauce because he’s on the right team. “It’d be nice to not have the phones at the table tonight.”
“The parents say Happy Chanukah,” Ollie says.
“Happy Chanukah. Go to sleep,” Gramps says. “Tell them that’s from me—and then put your phone away! It’s present time.”
Gramps is very serious about the Chanukah table being a No Phone Zone while we exchange gifts. Instead of one present every night, we decided just one gift each on the first night would be enough.