Chapter Twenty Six - First Love And First Kisses

The Holland house had been transformed into a cozy holiday retreat, with fairy lights strung haphazardly around bookshelves, casting a soft, golden glow over tables cluttered with rolls of wrapping paper, ribbons, and half-wrapped gifts. The scent of pine wreaths mixed with cinnamon candles flickered quietly nearby, while a gentle hum of carols played softly in the background—too saccharine for Harper's taste, but she didn't complain.

Harper stood at the table beside Josie, her fingers folding glossy paper with practiced precision. She wasn't big on holiday fluff—too much glitter, too many forced smiles. But here she was, helping Josie with the Secret Santa shopping, because despite her guarded exterior, she liked Josie more than she wanted to admit. More than she probably should.

Josie was humming softly as she wrapped a box, cheeks flushed with excitement. Every so often, Harper's hand brushed against hers, and Josie's smile would deepen. Harper didn't say anything about it. She wasn't exactly the gushy type. That kind of stuff felt... cringe.

Josie glanced up, catching Harper's eyes. "You know, Secret Santa always reminds me how wild my family gets around Christmas."

Harper raised an eyebrow but didn't ask her to elaborate. Josie went on anyway, voice softening.

 "My mom's obsessed with decorating — turns the house into this crazy Christmas museum. She bakes dozens of cookies every year: peppermint bark, gingerbread, sugar cookies with sprinkles everywhere. My dad tries to help but mostly just eats the dough when no one's looking. And my little brother? Convinced Santa's real. Leaves notes for him all over the place."

Harper smirked despite herself. "Sounds like a circus."

Josie laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made Harper's chest tighten in a way she wasn't used to.

"It is. But even when it's crazy, there's this weird kind of comfort in the mess — like no matter what, we're stuck with each other. That's why I get so wrapped up in doing something nice for my friends at school. Trying to make things feel a little less chaotic for everyone else."

Harper glanced away for a moment, fiddling with a ribbon, her voice quieter when she finally spoke. "I guess that makes sense. I'm not really the 'happy holiday' type, but... I get it."

Josie tilted her head, studying Harper's expression. "You're not really 'happy holiday' at all, are you?"

Harper gave a half-shrug, folding a neat crease into the paper. "Not exactly. I don't do... all the cheesy stuff. You know, the over-the-top sappy stuff." Her gaze flicked back to Josie with a rare softness. "But I like doing this with you. It's... not as bad as I thought."

Josie smiled, eyes bright. "That means a lot coming from you."

Harper's lips twitched into a brief, almost-smile before she looked down again, a little shy in her own way. "Don't get used to it."

She folded a crease into the paper, then glanced up, voice quieter, almost hesitant. "You know.. This will be the first Christmas I'm actually home for... not at Warren."

Josie's eyes softened with understanding. "That must feel different. How was it, being there for Christmas before?"

Harper's gaze dropped briefly, the mood darkening for a moment. "It's... complicated. It's not like a normal Christmas. There's no cozy family chaos, no cookies or decorations, just... a place that's meant to help, but sometimes just feels like a cage."

Josie reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Harper's face, pushing it behind her ear. "I'm glad you're home this year. You deserve to have a real Christmas."

Harper gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, her eyes not lifting from the wrapping. "Me too."

The cold bit gently at Jackson's cheeks as he waited near the Glenwood School of The Blind gates, the pale light of late afternoon stretching the shadows across the courtyard. His breath came out in little clouds, mingling with the faint scent of pine and damp earth. His fingers curled tightly around a small, neatly wrapped box — a gift he'd spent hours choosing. The paper was a deep forest green, tied with a simple silver ribbon that caught the light just so.

He spotted Ashley's familiar silhouette before he heard her soft footsteps. Her cane tapped rhythmically against the stone path as she approached, the gentle click-click echoing faintly in the quiet space. Her coat was pulled snug, scarf wrapped just so, and her head tilted slightly, listening for his voice.

"Hey, Ash!" Jackson said, voice low but steady, trying to mask the nervous flutter in his chest.

Ashley's face lifted toward him, her features illuminated by the fading sunlight. A soft smile spread across her lips, one he knew well. "Hey, Jackson. I was wondering if you'd be here."

He shifted on his feet, fingers brushing against the gift box. "I got you something. Since you're gonna be away for Christmas... thought maybe this could keep you company. From me.." 

Ashley's hand reached out instinctively, fingertips grazing the smooth wrapping paper. She smiled, warmth filling her voice. "You didn't have to."

Jackson shrugged, the faintest blush rising to his cheeks. "I wanted to."

She lifted the box carefully, and her fingers explored the ribbon's texture, tracing the silver thread before pulling it gently. The paper crackled softly as she peeled it away, revealing a leather-bound journal beneath. The cover was soft under her touch, cool and slightly grainy — perfect for carrying everywhere.

"This is beautiful." Ashley whispered. "I can imagine writing down everything — memories, thoughts, songs... all the little things I don't want to forget."

Jackson smiled, heart pounding as he watched her react. "I figured you'd like something real, you know? Something you can hold onto when you're not here."

Ashley's fingers lingered on the cover, then she looked up at him, her eyes meeting his despite the blindness — her gaze full of trust and something deeper, something unspoken.

"I'm really gonna miss you." she said softly, voice barely above the wind.

"Me too." Jackson breathed, stepping closer, the cold forgotten now. His hand found hers, fingers intertwining naturally.

The quiet of the afternoon wrapped around them, punctuated only by their breaths and the distant hum of students leaving school.

Jackson's heart hammered as he leaned in, slow and tentative, searching for her lips with his. His touch was gentle, careful not to overwhelm, but full of everything he'd felt all day.

Ashley's lips met his in a kiss that was tender, shy, but real — a small promise sealed in the chilly winter air.