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Subject: Re: Are you awake yet?

I’m awake! Seany started jumping on my bed, like, three hours ago. We’ve been opening presents and eating sugar cookies for breakfast. Dad

gave me a gold ring shaped like a heart. “For Daddy’s sweetheart,” he said. As if I’m the type of girl who’d wear a heart-shaped ring.

FROM HER FATHER. He gave Seany tons of Star Wars stuff and a rock polishing kit, and I’d much rather have those. I can’t believe Mom

invited him here for Christmas. She says it’s because their divorce is amicable (um, no) and Seany and I need a father figure in our lives, but al

they ever do is fight. This morning it was about my hair. Dad wants me to dye it back, because he thinks I look like a “common prostitute,” and

Mom wants to re-bleach it. Like either of them has a say. Oops, gotta run. My grandparents just arrived, and Granddad is bel owing for his

bonnie lass. That would be me.

P.S. Love the picture. Mrs. Claus is total y checking out your butt. And it’s Merry Christmas, weirdo.

To: Anna Oliphant <[email protected]>

From: Étienne St. Clair <[email protected]>

Subject: HAHAHA!

Was it a PROMISE RING? Did your father give you a PROMISE RING?

To: Étienne St. Clair <[email protected]>

From: Anna Oliphant <[email protected]>

Subject: Re: HAHAHA!

I am so not responding to that.

To: Anna Oliphant <[email protected]>

From: Étienne St. Clair <[email protected]>

Subject: Uncommon Prostitutes

I have nothing to say about prostitutes (other than you’d make a terrible prostitute, the profession is much too unclean), I only wanted to type that.

Isn’t it odd we both have to spend Christmas with our fathers? Speaking of unpleasant matters, have you spoken with Bridge yet? I’m taking the

bus to the hospital now. I expect a ful breakdown of your Christmas dinner when I return. So far today, I’ve had a bowl of muesli. How does Mum

eat that rubbish? I feel as if I’ve been gnawing on lumber.

To: Étienne St. Clair <[email protected]>

From: Anna Oliphant <[email protected]>

Subject: Christmas Dinner

MUESLI? It’s Christmas, and you’re eating CEREAL?? I’m mental y sending you a plate from my house. The turkey is in the oven, the gravy’s on

the stovetop, and the mashed potatoes and casseroles are being prepared as I type this. Wait. I bet you eat bread pudding and mince pies or

something, don’t you? well , I’m mental y sending you bread pudding. Whatever that is. No, I haven’t talked to Bridgette. Mom keeps bugging me

to answer her cal s, but winter break sucks enough already. (WHY is my dad here? SERIOUSLY. MAKE HIM LEAVE. He’s wearing this giant

white cable-knit sweater, and he looks like a pompous snowman, and he keeps rearranging the stuff in our kitchen cabinets. Mom is about to kil

him. WHICH IS WHY SHE SHOULDN’T INVITE HIM OVER FOR HOLIDAYS.) Anyway. I’d rather not add to the drama.

P.S. I hope your mom is doing better. I’m so sorry you have to spend today in a hospital. I real y do wish I could send you both a plate of turkey.

To: Anna Oliphant <[email protected]>

From: Étienne St. Clair <[email protected]>

Subject: Re: Christmas Dinner

YOU feel sorry for ME? I am not the one who has never tasted bread pudding. The hospital was the same. I won’t bore you with the details.

Though I had to wait an hour to catch the bus back, and it started raining. Now that I’m at the flat, my father has left for the hospital. We’re each

making stel ar work of pretending the other doesn’t exist.

P.S. Mum says to tell you “Merry Christmas.” So Merry Christmas from my mum, but Happy Christmas from me.

To: Étienne St. Clair <[email protected]>

From: Anna Oliphant <[email protected]>

Subject: SAVE ME

Worst. Dinner. Ever. It took less than five minutes for things to explode. My dad tried to force Seany to eat the green bean casserole, and when

he wouldn’t, Dad accused Mom of not feeding my brother enough vegetables. So she threw down her fork, and said that Dad had no right to tel

her how to raise her children. And then he brought out the “I’m their father” crap, and she brought out the “You abandoned them” crap, and

meanwhile, the WHOLE TIME my half-deaf Nanna is shouting, “WHERE’S THE SALT! I CAN’T TASTE THE CASSEROLE! PASS THE SALT!”

And then Granddad complained that Mom’s turkey was “a wee dry,” and she lost it. I mean, Mom just started s creaming.

And it freaked Seany out, and he ran to his room crying, and when I checked on him, he was UNWRAPPING A CANDY CANE!! I have no idea

where it came from. He knows he can’t eat Red Dye #40! So I grabbed it from him, and he cried harder, and Mom ran in and yel ed at ME, like

I’d given him the stupid thing. Not, “Thank you for saving my only son’s life, Anna.” And then Dad came in and the fighting resumed, and they