Carter looks so relaxed and happy. He never really appeared to be miserable, but I think before it was an act and now it’s real.

He continues. “So I bought a ton of art books abroad and have been really inspired to paint. I’m going to start working with a tutor to take the GED in a couple months, then art school.”

“That’s great, Carter. I’m really proud of you.”

He nods to himself. “Thanks. Me, too. I can’t believe how much things have changed in the last couple of months. Who knows, maybe someday you’ll be coming to one of my art openings! Crazier things have happened.”

I laugh. Certainly, out of everything that has transpired since the beginning of school, Carter holding an art exhibition would be considered extremely normal.

“Guys!” Jack gets up and starts jumping up and down. “We got five minutes.”

Carter excuses himself and the four of us get in a circle.

We put our arms around each other and Jack leans in for what’s supposed to be a pep talk, but he usually ends up insulting each of us. “Okay, our last Christmas gig. Ethan’s sober, so that’s an improvement over last year…. Red is going to rock her guitar solo, although try to not make the rest of us look so inferior, O Red One…. Ben, you look adorable in your elf ears.”

Our hands go into the center.

Jack shouts out, “Jack rules on three. One, Two!”

“Jack sucks!” The three of us shout back.

“Aww, come on, where’s the love?”

We all walk out to the stage with Jack shouting, “Forget about your presents now!”

There’s no way we aren’t going to get our presents from Jack.

After the show, the four of us head to Ethan’s house, and Jack makes a big to-do about our presents. We each open our gifts to find a framed, near life-size photo of Jack’s face.

“I know you guys are going to miss me….” His smile fades at the words.

The rest of us exchange presents. I got each of the guys a personalized leather notebook filled with sheet music.

“For when you get inspired and aren’t near a computer.”

“You’re so old-school, Red!” Jack gives me a kiss on the cheek.

Ethan comes up to me. “Hey, Emme, your gift is on its way. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” Ethan always goes a little over the top with gifts. I’m usually embarrassed by my present in comparison, so I’m somewhat grateful that I don’t need to feel guilty tonight.

He hands Jack and Ben their presents. Jack unwraps personalized drumsticks with his name and a logo that Trevor designed, while Ben receives designer guitar picks and a matching guitar strap.

“My turn!” Ben hands us each a square box. We untie the bright red and green ribbon to find another notebook. “Look inside.”

I open the front cover and gasp. “It’s the first picture taken of us.” I start flipping through and it is filled with flyers, set lists, ticket stubs of all our concerts.

I don’t want to cry … again. Especially in front of the guys. I hate to be the stereotype of the girl of the group.

“This is awesome….” I hear Jack’s voice crack. “Got something in my eye.” He wipes away a tear and gives Ben a big bear hug.

The four of us start reminiscing as we go through the scrap-book. The dives we’ve played in, the technical difficulties, the one groupie … I wouldn’t take back a single thing.

“Well, ladies … and Ethan” — Jack gets up from the couch — “I’ve got my hot girlfriend waiting for me.”

“I’ll share a taxi with you.” Ben grabs his jacket.

I stand up. “I probably should head out.”

“Emme, there’s all this cake left.” Ethan motions toward the half-eaten chocolate cake on the coffee table.

“Oh, well …”

Ethan hands me a fork, and Ben and Jack both hug me good night.

I sit down on the plush carpet and dive into the cake. Ethan knows the way to my heart — not that he’s after that; he just knows I like food.

I stare at the gigantic Christmas tree in the corner of the room. The white lights decorating the tree fill the room with a soft white glow.

Ethan goes over to the tree and grabs a huge gift-wrapped rectangle.

“Okay, I lied. I have your gift but didn’t want you to open it in front of the guys.”

Oh.

He sets down the oversize gift and already I know it’s too much. I start to tear away the wrapping, to find a cardboard box with no markings. Ethan leans over to cut the tape around the box with a knife.

I lift the tabs open and dig around the plastic wrapping and pull out a black guitar case.

“Ethan …”

I’m scared to open it. It’s a guitar. And I’m sure it isn’t from Target, like the ones I use.

I unzip the bag to find a candy apple red electric guitar. But not just any electric guitar, a 1964 Fender Stratocaster.

“I can’t …”

Ethan takes the guitar out and hands it to me.

“I know what you’re going to say. But I saw this the other day and thought that you need to have it. So consider it a Christmas, Birthday, Graduation, Kicking Ass at the showcase, and Getting into Juilliard gift.”

“It’s still too much.” The guitar is beautiful and I start to strum it. Even unplugged, it sounds wonderful.