The families alternated houses every year. This time, Christmas was at Braden’s house. Stephanie was glad. She liked Braden’s house. And his bedroom. You see, in this bedroom, there were your average bedroom things—a bed, dresser, desk—but hanging in one corner, there was a hammock. Just thinking about this hammock made Stephanie blush, considering the latest email she’d received from Braden, sent on the 22nd, had told her exactly what he planned to do with her in that hammock.

No, no, it wasn’t like that. But Stephanie memorized that email, and when she was bored or tired, or just plain missing him, she’d play it over again in her mind:

Hey, Steph, Braden had written. Do you remember that hammock in my room? It’s a nice hammock. You know, I’ve always wanted to make out in a hammock. Sorry, just an errant thought, there. Can’t wait for you guys to come up.

Missing you,

Braden.

Oh, God. Stephanie couldn’t wait, either.

So on the 23rd of December, she and her parents packed up to go to Sacramento. When they finally arrived around ten o’clock that night, Stephanie was tired, hungry, and full of angst about the fact that her iPod ran out of battery somewhere back near Tracey. So when the door opened and Kirsten, Ted, Alysone and Jelly came out to greet them, Stephanie’s heart sank further. Where was Braden?

Suddenly, arms came around her waist from behind. “Miss me, Steph?” someone murmured into her hair.

She spun around. “Braden!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Of course I missed you,” she muttered.

“I missed you too,” he assured her, whispering into her ear. “So, no worries, then.”

“Oh my God!” she realized. “Jesus. Our parents are like, right there.”

“They didn’t notice,” he insisted. “Besides, we’re going to tell them, aren’t we?”

“What, exactly, do you plan on telling them? That we made out in my bathroom at Thanksgiving? What else is there to tell?”

“Well,” Braden said. “I was thinking of telling them I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“But that would be a lie,” Stephanie pointed out breathlessly.

“As of now,” he shrugged. “But I have a plan.”

“Stephie!” Jelly ran up and grabbed hold of Stephanie’s legs. “Didja bring Charlie?”

“Sorry, Jells, Charlie had to stay at home.”

“Oh,” Anjelica walked away dejectedly.

“Yeah,” Braden laughed, “I love how she likes the cat better than she likes you.”

“You like me more than Charlie, though, right?”

“Did I make out with Charlie in Charlie’s bathroom, or lie on Charlie’s bed for three hours talking to Charlie?”

“Nope.”

“Then I think I actually do like you more than Charlie.”

“Good.”

Braden made sure their parents weren’t looking before quickly kissing Stephanie’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told her quietly. “I feel I ought to warn you, though. Mom’s invited some of the neighbors over for a Christmas Eve party tomorrow night.”

“Why is that a warning?”

“Eh… I just get the feeling you might have an issue. There’s absolutely NO REASON AT ALL for you to have an issue, of course. But I know you, Steph.”

“Oh-kay…”

“Oh, come on, Steph. Let’s go get cocoa and then you can sleep.” She followed him into the warm house.

The next morning, Stephanie discovered exactly why Braden thought she’d have an issue with one of the neighbors.

“Oh, Stephanie,” Kirsten said as Stephanie passed the door. The woman was talking to someone on the porch. “This is one of our party guests tonight. Sylvia, meet Stephanie. Stephanie, this is Sylvia.”

Sylvia was the single most beautiful person Stephanie had seen in her entire life. Prettier than Rosalie Hale. Blonder, too. Sylvia smiled. “Hi, Stephanie. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” she managed, taking in the way the girl seemed to sparkle. Maybe it was cosmetics. Maybe she was a vampire.

“She’s in some of Braden’s classes at school,” Kirsten explained.

“Oh,” Stephanie said. “That’s nice.” That was probably one of the biggest lies Stephanie had ever told, but she didn’t care. The truth would’ve gotten her in trouble, not only with Kirsten and her parents, but also with Braden, and, if she was allowed further, possibly with the law.

She wasn’t saying that she wanted to kill Sylvia. She just wanted her to go far away and never come back ever again. That was all.

“Go get some breakfast, hon,” Kirsten told Stephanie.

“Okay,” she mumbled as Kirsten continued her talk with Sylvia.

Braden sat at the kitchen table when Stephanie walked in. “What’s up with you?” he asked, chugging the milk at the bottom of his cereal bowl.

“I met your friend Sylvia.”

“Oh.” He set his bowl down. “Look, as I said, there’s nothing you should have an issue with.”

“I don’t have an issue.”

“Stephanie,” he said skeptically.

“She’s beautiful.” Stephanie admitted.

“Mmhmm,” he agreed. “I won’t deny it. But she’s not half as beautiful as you are.” Stephanie raised an eyebrow at him, surveying the torn jeans and black sweatshirt she wore. “Clothes don’t matter,” he insisted. “Just take the compliment and walk away, girl.”

Stephanie laughed. “Got any poptarts?”

XoXoX

Stephanie examined her reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall of the guest room. Fidgeting with the hem of her green sweater, she sighed. No matter what she wore, Sylvia was bound to look better. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to try a little bit. She slid off her jeans, instead pulling on a white skirt that fell about halfway down her thighs. She was glad she’d taken the time to shave her legs today. She smoothed her hair down and too a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

As she descended the staircase she felt many eyes upon her. A tall boy with blonde hair watched her every move as he sipped his cider, and Stephanie’s mother gasped. “She looks adorable!” Stephanie heard Kirsten say.

Sylvia, wearing a blue dress with white leggings beneath, smiled at her. “You look great, Stephanie,” she told her.

“So do you,” Stephanie smiled back.

“Hey, Steph!” Kirsten called. “Come meet people!” Stephanie walked to where Kirsten stood with the tall blonde boy. “This is Sylvia’s brother, Jack. He’s a year older than you guys. He goes to Princeton,” she said fondly. “Isn’t that nice?”

“Very nice, Kirsten,” Stephanie agreed.

“Well, then, get to know each other!” Kirsten suggested, wandering off towards the eggnog.

“Hi,” Jack said shyly.

“Hi,” Stephanie replied. “Um. So, Princeton. Wow. Big deal, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He looked at his drink. “It’s not as difficult as everyone makes it seem.”

“Maybe you’re just too smart for them.”

“Maybe,” he repeated. “Are you dating Braden?”

“What?” Stephanie asked, taken aback.

“Only, he’s glaring at me like he wants me dead.”

Stephanie turned around to see that Braden was, in fact, giving Jack one of the scariest death glares she’d ever seen. “Oh, good Lord,” she murmured.

“You should probably tell him I’m very boring.”

“You-You’re not very boring,” Stephanie stammered.

“It’s okay,” he gave her a half-smile. “I get that a lot.”

“It was nice talking to you,” she insisted.

“And to you,” he said, sipping his drink.

Stephanie wandered over to Braden. “Hey, Bray, could you try not to go all mafia on everyone I talk to?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that. Are you going to lock me in a closet and forbid me to speak to anyone but you?”

He looked ashamedly down at his feet. He sighed. Then he dragged his blue-green eyes up to meet her brown ones. “I’m sorry. Go back and talk to him.”

“I don’t want to,” she said. “I want to talk to you.”

A small smile appeared on Braden’s face. “I’m glad.”

“You look nice,” she told him, looking at his button-down shirt and tie.

“Thanks.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “You look beautiful.”

Stephanie felt her heart flutter and—of course— her cheeks flush. “Th-thank you,” she said softly.

Braden grinned. “I love it when you do that.”

“What?”

“Blush.”

“Oh, man. I hate it.”

“Don’t,” he instructed her. “It’s very cute.”

A renewed blush painted her cheeks. “Well, I’m glad you think so.”

Kirsten popped by just then, downing another glass of eggnog. “Next time not so much rum, eh?” she wriggled her eyebrows. “So, you guys. Ever thought of dating? I mean, me and Amanda didn’t decide to have a boy and a girl just so they could stand around and look cute. We’ve had this planned since the seventh grade. Amanda!”

Stephanie’s mother hurried over. “Oh no, Kir, you didn’t tell them.”

“Back then, though,” Kirsten continued, “Your father was supposed to be Roy Maltese. And yours,” she pointed at Stephanie, “was supposed to be Hansen Kirkwright. But your names were always Braden and Stephanie, Stephanie and Braden.”

“That never did change, did it?” Stephanie’s mother reminisced. “Except for that Van Halen stint you had, when Braden’s name was going to be Eddie.”

“We don’t speak of those times,” Kirsten said airily. “Besides, I was mostly joking, it was always going to be Braden.”

“And we always planned for you guys to fall in love,” Amanda admitted sheepishly. “But obviously, we’re not gonna be love pushers. Love is a strong word.”

“Uh-huh,” Stephanie mumbled faintly.

“Mom,” Braden said kindly, “Piss off, please.”

“Well!” Kirsten looked affronted. “I was just saying. I mean, first you’re like, ‘I’m not into Sylvia,’ and now you’re not into Stephanie, either? I mean, really, Braden, are you gay?”

“No, mother, I am not gay.” Braden sighed. “Stephanie, can we leave, please?”

“Uh-huh,” she said quickly, following him back into the living room.

“They’re crazy,” Braden spat.

“Kirsten thinks you’re gay,” Stephanie realized, laughing.

“Shut up, I’m not,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Really?”

“Uh-uh. If I was gay, you’d think I could be a little more sensitive, and not, you know, go around making out with chicks. A chick,” he revised at her raised eyebrow.

She giggled. “I’d be really pissed off if you were gay.”

“Good thing I’m not,” he concluded, setting his hands on her waist. “I’d hate to make you mad.”

“Gosh, Bray, you’re being so cheesy it’s like fondue in here. What’s up with the chick flick lines?”

“Oh, man, if you think that was bad, it’s about to get a whole lot cheesier,” Braden informed her. “Look up.”

“Mistletoe,” she gasped.

“What else? I mean, honestly, Steph, I’m trying, here. You could give me some credit.”

But instead, she kissed him.

They broke apart. “Our mothers are still watching us,” he said, a little breathless.

Stephanie grinned. “And now Kirsten knows you’re not gay.”

He kissed her again. Then, leaning his forehead against he said softly, “I know you probably don’t want the whole long-distance relationship thing… but I’d like you to consider being my girlfriend.”

Stephanie smiled, blushing a little, because hey, the moment just wouldn’t be complete without it. “I’ll consider it.” He kissed her, slowly. Painfully slowly. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Braden was kissing her. It was long, and she realized that she wasn’t breathing. She broke away from him, gasping. “All right, all right, I’ve considered it.”

“And the verdict is?”

“Yes, you dumbass.”

“Sentimental.”

“It’ll make a good story.”

He grinned. “Come to my room?”

Stephanie nodded. He tugged her up the stairs and into his room. He kept the lights off, but the streetlights were visible through the slats of the blinds at the window. She saw the hammock in the corner, and said, “Hammock?”

“Great minds apparently do think alike,” he murmured, kissing the hand he held. “I’ll help you up.”

He lifted her with apparent ease, and laid her in the hammock. He then joined her. He turned her so they faced each other, then he kissed her. It was like it had been under the mistletoe—slow, and burning. His hands clutched her hips, pulling her as close to him as they could be without becoming one person. She smiled into his mouth as he made a little noise in his throat, when she pressed her breasts to his chest. His lips slid away from her mouth, down her neck to her collarbone. Their fingers laced together as she sighed, kissing his nose. Then, all was still. They breathed heavily, each needing the other as much as the other needed them. Braden smiled, moving so his chin rested above the top of her head, his chest her makeshift pillow. He put his arm around her, holding her to him so that she was practically on top of him. “That was nice,” she murmured.

“Mmhmm,” he agreed. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Me, too.”

“Remember at Thanksgiving, how I said that we’d, you know, deal with the whole L-word thing when the time came?”

Her breath caught. “Yeah.”

“Well… I guess… I mean, I think I… eh…”

Stephanie giggled. “Your eloquence astounds me.”

“Shut up, you. What I’m trying to say is… I love you, Stephanie.”

She nuzzled his chest. “Moving a little fast, are we?” she teased. “We’ve only been dating… ten minutes.”

“Shut up,” he said again, good-naturedly. “When I’ve felt this way since I was like, fourteen, and haven’t told you till now, I don’t think that could be considered ‘fast.’”

“Fine. Then it’s much too slow.”

“Steph,” he said, reprimanding. “Are you really supposed to say something cheesy and clichéd, now? I know enough about romance novels to know that the story can’t end until someone says ‘I love you, too.’”

“I love you, too, Braden,” she said with a smile.

“Bet I love you more.”

“Bet you’re wrong.”

“Bet our mothers think we’re having sex.”

There was a pause. “Bet you want to prove them right.”

“That is just wishful thinking on your part, I think,” he teased her.

“It doesn’t count as wishful thinking if you’re thinking it, too.”

He kissed the top of her head. “We’ll start slow. See where we get?”

“You wish.”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “I do.”

XoXoX

There was nothing Stephanie wanted to do more than wake up in Braden’s arms on Christmas morning. Well, she thought, maybe wishes do come true.

“Steph?” he whispered. “Merry Christmas.”

She rolled over, coming closer to him, cuddling into his chest. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”

“Love you.”

She kissed him. “Love you, too.”

A/N: So, there’s Steph and Braden at Christmas, just like I promised. I hope you liked it. Happy holidays, everyone! And as a gift to me from you, I would like a review, so. That would be great. Thanks in advance ;).