It was nearing six pm when we finally got back into the warmth of Elliott's car, the engine roaring and the heat coming through the blowers. I hadn't noticed how cold it was until we were on the walk towards the parking lot, but once the cold registered, it was hard to ignore the tingling in my fingertips, or how my nose was close to freezing.

Elliott and I were sitting in a comfortable silence when the quiet atmosphere was shattered by the loud ringing of Elliott's cell phone. It was a generic ring-ring tone, like the preset tone that manufacturers choose, and it had me laughing for some bizarre reasons. For someone like Elliott, I was half expecting a profanity laden Kanye West track, or some other hip-hop rap song that I would never willingly listen to.

"Hey, Mom," Elliott said down the line once he accepted the incoming call. "I'm at the mall. Why, what's up?" Unlike most in his position, Elliott doesn't seem phased about talking to his Mom in front of me. He doesn't even turn away or lower his voice. "I thought that was tomorrow night. So, it's not? It's tonight? Um... Mom, I don't think that's going to work for me. No, Mom, because I'm out on a date."

I smiled.

"Yes, mother, an actual date," Elliott's voice sounds irritated as he speaks. "No, she's not made up. No, I am not going to let you talk to her. Why? Oh, I don't know, Mom, take a wild guess why. Knowing you, you'll say something totally inappropriate. Mom, please don't make me... okay, hold on a second." Elliott presses a button on the touch screen of his phone and turns to shoot me an apologetic smile. "She wants to talk to you to make sure you're real and not- and I quote- 'a figment of my overactive imagination.' You can say 'no' if you want."

With only a slight tremor in my voice, I say, "I'll do it. Hand the phone here." Elliott presses the phone into my hand and reaches over to connect the call once more. I can hear the faint sound of his mother's voice coming down the line, and I gulp. Bringing the phone up to my ear, I speak. "Hello, Mrs. Anthony."

"Holy shit!" Elliott's mother shouts down the line. "Byron, get here! Elliott finally has a girlfriend! Oh, sweetie," I think she's taking to me now. "This is wonderful. I thought my son was going to be a miniature Hugh Hefner for the rest of his life!"

I laugh in surprise. "Hugh Hefner?"

Elliott groans, but he says nothing as his mother starts to talk again. "Exactly! But now I don't need to worry about that because he has you now. Oh, you have to come to Isabel's show tonight! I can't wait to meet you!"

"Show?" I ask Mrs. Anthony, while shooting Elliott a terrified look.

Hearing the word, Elliott's eyes snap upwards to meet mine and he frantically motions with his hands for me to pass his cell to him. I do as I'm told and throw the handset at him like it's a Chihuahua about to attack me. "Mom," Elliott's voice is stern as he speaks. "I already told you, we can't make it to Isabel's show. No, because we're on a date! Look-" Elliott's eyes go wide at whatever his mother says to him. Suddenly his whole body slumps into the driver's seat and he rubs a hand over his face. "Yes, I understand. Yes, I'll be there. Yes, I promise. Okay, I have to go now. See you in a half hour. Bye."

"We're going to the show, aren't we?" I ask, although I can already guess the answer. When Elliott shoots me an apologetic glance from the corner of his eye, I send him a reassuring one in return. "Here's the plan- we arrive a little late, sneak in at the back, watch the show and duck out before your mom even sees us. Deal?"

Elliott laughs. "Deal."

The radio played as Elliott drove us back to Easton. I could see Elliott's lips twitching with each new song that played, his fingers drumming again after wheel to the beat of the music. From the steady rhythm he kept, I took a guess that Elliott's a drummer but I was having too much fun watching him twitch to ask him if he played. It was obvious that he was self-conscious about singing in front of me after I told him earlier that he had a good voice but I liked his singing. I was itching to hear his voice, which is the only reason I can give for why I did what I did.

Reaching over for the volume button on the dash, I cranked up the song and started to sing as if my life depended on it. Granted, I was not the best singer in the world, but I could carry a tune well enough to sing along with Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas. Halfway through the song, I was the one that started to feel self-conscious, because instead of joining me in the singing, Elliott sat quietly at my side, his eyes casting over towards me every now and then as he drove.

When we stopped at some lights, Mariah Carey's voice dimmed and the Michael Bublé /Idina Menzel version of Baby, It's Cold Outside started. I smiled to myself and sang the first line, looking over at Elliott hopefully. With a slight embarrassment reddening his cheeks, he sang the second line. We continued the duet until the song ended and the cars behind us began to blow their horns at us.

"So, Isabel is your sister, I take it," I say, wondering if my assumptions had been true. When Elliott nods silently, I try to think of something else to say. "How many sisters do you have?"

I had already met Aubrey, although, until we were stood outside ManStuff I had no idea she and Elliott were siblings. Now, I learn he has another sister named Isabel, so I began to wonder if there were any more siblings that I didn't know about.

"Just two," Elliott explains as we pull up into the parking lot of Holy Cross Girls' Middle School. "There's Isabel, who's eleven, and I have a twin named Aubrey. She just started at St. Bernadette this year."

That would explain why I didn't know who she was, or who she was related to earlier. "Where did she go to school before?"

"She, uh," Elliott frowns as he speaks, telling me that he doesn't really want to answer the question. I was about to tell him he has no obligation to explain the situation when he opened his mouth. "Aubrey was at a rehabilitation facility until the summer. When she was thirteen, she had an accident and became addicted to pain medication. It got really bad, really quick. She was babysitting Isabel one day and she was off her face on drugs and Isabel went missing."

I gasp.

"Not missing missing," Elliott clarifies in haste. "She walked ten blocks over to where our grandparents live, but it scared the crap out of my parents. Aubrey, too, which is why she volunteered to go to rehab. She completed the course two years ago, but didn't want to come home until now. So, yeah, that's the story of my twin sister."

Elliott looks borderline angry that he's told me about Aubrey. I grasped that it wasn't common knowledge around Easton, because if Byron Anthony's kid gets hooked on drugs- even prescription ones- then the whole town would know about it and gossip. Seeing as I had no idea about Aubrey's situation, I gathered they kept it within the family. "I was crying earlier because I saw my ex-boyfriend with his new girlfriend," I explain, my eyes tightly shut. I didn't want to have this conversation with Elliott, but he'd told me one of his deepest, darkest secrets, surely I could tell him something personal about myself. "Our break up was traumatic for me, and to this day, I still don't know why he broke up with me. I got blindsided when I saw him and I guess unresolved issues came flooding back to me, so I ran to you and burst out crying."

"Open your eyes," I felt Elliott's hand cup my cheeks, thumb pads circling under my eyes, wiping away the new flood of tears snaking down my cheeks. I did as he asked and slowly opened my eyes to meet his soft gaze. "You can come running to me whenever you want, tears and all, okay?"

I nod. "Thank you."

"Come on," Elliott smiles while unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out the car. I follow his head and meet him on the driver's side of the car, closest to where the school entrance is. "Just to warn you, this show is the Nativity and my sister is playing the fourth cow."

I laugh, thinking he's joking but from the serious look he gives me, I'm not so sure he's kidding around. "For real?"

Elliott laughs heartily, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. It seems to be his favorite move to pull on me, not that I'm complaining because I kinda like his arm there. "She's the Angel. Horrifically miscast because she's anything but an angel, but she has the whole blonde hair, blue eye thing going for her so she looks innocent enough to be the Guardian Angel."

Along the walls inside Holy Cross Girls' Middle School there are signs directing us towards the auditorium. Being the girls' school, Elliott had no idea where he was headed- even with directions- and I lost count how many times I had to pull him down the correct hallway. Each time, he'd protest and assure me he knew where he was going, but seeing at this was my old school, I knew better. Eventually, after ten minutes of wrong turns, mini arguments and lots of walking, we arrived at the auditorium just as the lights began to dim.

Some way down the aisle, I spotted a tall blonde woman waving frantically in our direction. I assumed she was Elliott's mother, but then the room went dark and I could no longer see the woman in the crowd. Elliott and I stuck to our plan, sitting as far back in the audience as possible and choosing seats closest to the door so we could make a quick escape.

Being Catholic School educated my entire life, I was more than familiar with the story of the nativity, and the birth of Jesus Christ, and so on, but even I thought the story was farfetched. My family is religious. I, however, am not. I want to believe that there's a higher power, but whether or not that higher power is God, I'd gladly debate. I was more inclined to believe the big bang theory than 'In the beginning, God created Heaven and Hell...' but I could understand people's need to have faith and I wasn't about to judge them for it.

Still, I watched the Nativity from the last row in the auditorium, smiling widely when the Guardian Angel walked on stage for the first time. She was exactly like Elliott had described her- blonde haired and blue eyed- but I had to admit she looked more like Aubrey than she resembled Elliott. When Isabel recited her first line, I looked over at Elliott to see him hunched forward, elbows propped on his knees, his chin resting on the palm of his hands. His attention was focused on Isabel, and he wore a proud look on his features.

The show continued for another hour and a half before the cast took their bow. The audience- Elliott and myself included- all stood to applaud them. Elliott was hooting and hollering like a madman, but there was something weirdly attractive in him doing so.

Then he turned to me and winked.

I definitely fangirled a little inside.

e dir