unREASONable by Arya Matthews
Track 19
Alexandra
Christmas morning smells like cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate and is filled with rustling of ripping paper and much too much stuff. The kids open their presents first. Toys, clothes, candy, and new gadgets litter the floor. The Vipers wait on one of the couches and on the floor, decked out in their pajamas, which may be as ugly as they come, but my guys pull off wearing them as though the hideous kitten rags are high-end fashion. What surprises me more is that when I get out the Charlie-provided camera, they don’t even blink and keep talking and smiling and teasing each other. There’s no scowling from Graham, not a single complaint from Marshall. This is work, a small thing to do that will get them a lot of fan excitement in return, all done with patience.
Unlike the time when Juliette, Charlie, and Elise came to take photos of me a little after I joined the band, I’m not in the pictures with Marshall this morning. Is that why he’s so calm about everything? Fingering my collar, I set the camera down and try to chase away the disappointing thoughts. Kiera told me that Marshall was a hard worker. That must be it. He is working hard right now, and his calm attitude has nothing to do with me.
When the excitement and noise simmer down a notch, the Tangs help the kids gather their new possessions and usher them to the play area in the basement.
After that’s done, Zach motions for me to sit next to him.
“You ready for this?” he asks when I join him.
He turned twenty-three a week ago, but his eyes glow with excitement like he’s eight. I love that about him. His enjoyment for life fills me with a desire to have more fun any time I’m around him.
I give him a confident, “Yeah,” but really, I don’t care what I’m getting. More than anything, I worry my gifts to the Vipers will look dumb. And I’m curious about something. “Hey, your family is Korean, but this feels very American.”
“I know. We don’t do Christmas Korean-style. That’s what Seollal and Chuseok are for, lunar new year and harvest days. My sisters are married to an American and a Canadian, so we give them this one normal holiday a year. What about you? Do you celebrate Christmas in Russia? Did you call your parents?”
The strap digs into my palm as I hold on to the camera for dear life. “Russia is all about New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Christmas isn’t a big deal in most families. It’s a remnant of the SovetskySoyuz regime when religion was banned.” Having to generalize my answer feels like an outright lie, but there’s not much else I can do. This would be the most awful time to tell the guys about my family, not that I want to.
“Interesting. Well, I hope you’ll enjoy this anyway.” He gives me an encouraging smile then starts chanting, “Stockings, stockings!”
Graham shocks me speechless when he joins in. He can be loud when he wants to. I wonder why he chooses to keep quiet most of the time.
Marshall helps pass the stockings and drops a heavy one in my lap. It has curvy stitching of my name on the top.
“Nari, take some pictures, will you?” Zach scoops the camera out of my hands, passes it to his sister, then suffocates me in a tight hug while she snaps a shot of us.
“I can’t be in the photos.” I reach for the camera, but Nari angles it away from me.
“Relax,” she says. “I know what I’m doing. Who do you think took pictures of the guys before they signed with The Label and got a support team?”
Zach nudges my stocking, and I give in. It’s crammed with fluffy socks, nail polish, gift cards, bass strings, guitar picks, and candy. Graham’s got a set of drumsticks, and Zach a pair of Bluetooth earbuds, but other than that, my stocking contents match those of the other Vipers. Even the fluffy socks and nail polish. Zach’s sisters snicker at that. Awww.
Zach cracks open the bright pink nail polish and starts painting his toenails.
“The stench! Did you have to do that?” Graham covers the lower half of his face with his stocking.
“Want me to paint yours?” Zach offers without missing a beat.
Graham glowers at him, then shrugs and outstretches his feet. Tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, Zach gets the job done with impressive speed and precision.
Shane laughs from his spot on the couch and sets a foot on Zach’s shoulder. “I’ll take one for the team.”
“Good boy.” Zach makes quick work of him.
I laugh at their antics and notice Seo-yun watching me. She’s Zach’s mom, but she’s also Project Viper’s mom. That’s why we’re all here for the holidays. And I got the same stocking stuffers as the other Vipers. At least in the eyes of the Tang family, I’m one of them. This feeling, this unspoken acceptance, is the real Christmas gift to me.
“From my matryoshka!” Zach’s the first one to open a gift from me. My hands sweat while he rips off the green paper with golden stripes. When Zach opens the box and pulls out a nesting doll, he smiles and says with a properly fake Russian accent, “Veri naiice.”
“You have to take them all out, comrade,” I answer with an exaggerated accent as well.
Zach squints at me, then opens the nesting doll and assembles the inner ones on the floor.
“Hold on.” He puts the third one together. “That’s me!” He brings the doll next to his face to show it off to the others. It bears an uncanny resemblance. The artist that I hired for the job has nothing short of a divine talent.
CJ slides to sit next to him. “The big one is you,” he says to me.
He’s right. I’m the matryoshka that holds them all. They’re all a part of me now.
“Then there’s me.” He lifts the second one. “Why does Zach get one and I don’t?”
I exhale, beyond relieved they seem to like the gift. “You all get one.”
Zach finishes assembling the dolls and laughs again, hard enough to topple to his side on the floor. “Marsh, that’s perfect!” He holds up the smallest one.
“How come I’m the little one?” Marshall protests from the couch with a pointed look directed at me.
“Because you’re a whiny baby,” Zach manages through his laughing fit.
Marshall shakes his head with a smile he’s struggling to suppress. “Well played, sir.”
“You’re the smallest because you’re so precious to me.” I bat my eyelashes at him.
I’m joking, but not really. A matryoshka without its tiniest doll, its center, is incomplete. It’s downright wrong. Just like Project Viper would be wrong without him, and I will be empty without them.
He laughs, for the first time all morning. “I think I’ll take the whiny baby.”
“Okay, you lot, squish together. You too.” Nari points a warning finger at me when I try to slip away. “Everyone in the rip-your-eye-out pajamas has to be in this photo.”
“Scoot over,” Marshall says to me and slides off the couch, barely giving me any time to make space for him.
Graham flops on his vacated spot, and CJ sits next to Marshall. Nari scolds CJ for blocking Graham, then gets on Graham’s case for not conforming, but all I can think of is that my knee is digging into Marshall’s thigh.
We still must not fit in the frame because Nari orders, “Closer please,” and goes as far away from us as the room allows.
Zach squeezes me on one side, Marshall on the other.
“Shane, climb up on the couch with your brother,” Nari says.
Shane obliges by flopping on Graham and driving an elbow into his gut. “Whoops.”
“You crappy little brother,” Graham wheezes.
Nari takes a few shots while we laugh at them then orders us to look straight at her.
As I turn, I catch Marshall watching me. He’s got the crooked end of a candy cane in his mouth, and his face is completely unreadable. I hate it when I can’t even guess what’s on his mind.
“What?” I ask him.
Marshall shakes his head. Nothing. He’s just staring at me, freaking me out with thoughts he’d never share. I grab the straight end of his candy cane and snap it off.
“Hey!” Marshall reaches for the piece I’ve plundered, but I stuff it in my mouth.
“Thief.” He pinches my arm.
“Grump.” I pinch him on the side.
Marshall swats my hand away and squirms with a tickled laugh. My breath catches. He smiled at me. I don’t care that it was a purely physical reaction. I made Marshall Jones laugh. Now this Christmas can’t possibly get any better.