“Uh? Erh?” A fumbling of blankets. “Jay? ‘s time is .... 2 am?”
“Did you know that kids wake people really early on Christmas?” I bounce a Jay-bounce on Charlie’s motel bed, which isn’t a good bouncing bed at all.
She sits up. I can feel warmth from her gaze, the god inside her a burning at the back of her eyes. “One, not Christmas. Two, it’s two.”
“I’m practising,” I explain, but wisely hop off the bed before she can throw me off, because I am all about being smart. “I’ve been listening to movies about Christmas, and kids always get up early in them.”
“Kids also get coal if they’ve been bad.”
“But I haven’t been! I’m even getting presents from followers on tumblr and –.”
“Believe me, this is counting against you.” I hear Charlie fling covers back over herself. “Get back to bed.”
And she doesn’t say it as a request at all. I thump back onto the other bed and figure she doesn’t want to do gift-practise before Christmas either. Humans get so weird sometimes.