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Their voices carried over the dark streets of Derry. It was Christmas Eve, probably one in the morning but when Michelle and James had shown up at Erin’s door with a bottle of vodka and plans to go up to the top of the hill Erin couldn't say no. After grabbing Orla and Clare the five of them made their way up the street.
“Shut up, Michelle!” Clare whisper-screeched, “people can hear ya.”
“Oh come off it, Clare. Live a little.” Michelle took a swig from the bottle and smirked.
“How much of that has she already had tonight?” Erin asked James.
“Too much.”
The night was clear and crisp, surprisingly mild for late December, and Erin could see countless stars. She was so busy searching the sky that she walked right into James who yelped and steadied her. “Watch it!”
“Sorry sorry, I'm looking for a shooting star.”
“Ay, Erin, y’aren't gonna see a shooting star so don't waste your time looking.” Michelle grinned, passing Erin the vodka.
“Fuck off,” Erin grumbled, taking a sip and making a disgusted face. “I always forget how terrible this shite is.”
“But it gets the job done!” Michelle was approaching level two drunkeness now: loud, or, louder than usual.
“Ay, look at the lights!” Orla, who had run ahead and was now standing at the top of the hill, was pointing down into the town. When they caught up to her Erin could see Christmas lights decorating many of the houses and strung between buildings.
“From up here it almost looks peaceful.”
“If you ignore the tanks and spytowers sure.”
“Ugh, pass me the bottle, Michelle. If you’re gonna be negative at least let me be drunk.”
It didn't take long for the five of them to drink much of the vodka. Erin could feel the familiar pleasant buzz and blurriness of alcohol taking over as they sat in a row on top of a low wall overlooking the city. She was pressed tight between James and Orla, trying to keep warm despite the alcohol flooding her body.
“Fuck, but its bloody freezing,” Michelle grumbled.
“This was your fucking idea, Michelle!” James replied.
“Yeah it’s Christmas, I could be warm in my bed.”
“Shut up, Clare. Ok, pass me the bottle. Now, lets toast. To… to vodka!” Michelle held up the bottle in a toast before taking a sip and passing it down the line, letting everyone do the same.
“To Christmas!”
“To chocolate!”
“To Derry!”
“To Michelle to stop calling me gay in front of girls I might fancy!”
“Oh shut it, James. That happened once and she was a bitch.”
Erin shivered violently. “Are you ok?” James asked.
“Cold.”
“Here.” James awkwardly took off his coat and reached around Erin, placing it on her shoulders. It was a little big on her but it was warm and the weight was comforting.
Erin grinned up at him, the alcohol bringing her defences down. “Thanks, James, you’re great ya know?”
He gave her a small smile. “You’re pissed.”
“I might be a bit drunk, but I’m sober enough to know that you’re great, and none of us will tell you this but, we like you. We really like you, James. Please don't go anywhere.” James’ eyes were wide, his cheeks pink from the cold, or Erin’s words, she couldn't tell.
“Why would I be going anywhere?” His voice was soft, matching Erin’s as the others laughed loudly about something or other.
“I don't know. Just, don't go anywhere.” Erin gave him a wobbly grin, clutching his coat around her. It smelled good, like him. He smelled good. “We like you. I like you.” The alcohol was muddling her thoughts though somewhere in her brain an alarm bell went off.
“You like me huh?” James’ expression turned more serious, his eyes bright. Erin swatted his chest but the vodka had made her misjudge her balance and she almost crashed into him. James reached out and grabbed her, his arm going around her back, anchoring her to his side. “Hey, watch it. Don't fall.”
“You caught me,” Erin mumbled, letting her head rest against James’ shoulder.
As they sat there, the cold air slowly sobering her up, Erin became consciously aware of how James was rubbing his hand against her side. He was doing it softly, almost like he didn't realize what he was doing. Erin relaxed into the feeling, moving closer to James as he tightened his hold on her.
“Erin?” His voice was feather soft, almost as if he was afraid to continue.
“Yes?”
“When you said you like me…” he trailed off and Erin looked up at him. He was staring out across the city but when she placed her hand lightly on his lower thigh his gaze snapped back to her.
“I like you. I really like you, James.” Erin was feeling bold, maybe because of the vodka, or Christmas, or maybe because of how James was looking at her like she was the stars.
“I… I really like you too, Erin.” He spoke softly. Almost like he wasn't sure if this was real or not. Something in Erin’s chest tightened when he said it and a sense of rightness overtook her.
“You do?” She had never felt more sober.
He gave her a small smile. “I do.” Then before she could process what was going on, James leaned down and kissed her temple. It was soft, he barely brushed his lips against her skin before pulling away but when he did Erin raised her head until their faces were inches apart. She started to lean in, James’ arm tightening around her back when Michelle yelled,
“Ay, a shooting star! Fuck, Erin, you were right.”
The spell was broken. Erin and James jumped back from each other, red-faced and eyes sparkling. “I told you, Michelle,” Erin said it only half paying attention, she was too focused on the boy sitting next to her. His warmth solid and unyielding against her side, his arm still wrapped around her as they watched the sky.