“I think he brought us something you made,” I said. Grandma was super crafty and always sent us her latest creations—puka shell necklaces or oil paintings or ceramics.

“Duh,” Josie muttered, quietly enough so Grandma couldn’t hear.

“I guess you’ll just have to see,” Grandma said. Over her shoulder, the window framed vivid green trees and bushes, a slow breeze wafting through them. I could practically feel the warmth. It was so different from the brown, leafless trees and white-gray sky outside our own window. “I have to get my gingersnaps from the oven. Love to you all.”

“Miss you, Mommy,” Mom said, blowing a kiss at the screen. I’d always thought it was sweet that Mom called Grandma Mommy. But this time, it almost made me tear up. Ever since Josie’s Nutcracker, I’d felt super emotional.

After we said goodbye, Mom and Dad sorted all the presents and we dug in, starting with gifts to each other, like always. I watched Josie unwrap my present—I’d splurged on an eye shadow palette from Willa Hoang’s new brand, hoping it would smooth things over.

“Thanks,” Josie mumbled, not looking at me. She set it aside and flung a flat present at me.

I opened it and saw the Instagram picture Ethan had taken at Winter Formal enclosed in a silver frame with stars carved into it. I smiled. I’d looked at that picture every night before bed, so I knew every detail. But having a physical copy, in a frame and everything, made it more real somehow. “Oh, I— Thanks, Josie.”

She shrugged. “Now maybe your room won’t be so depressing.”

I smiled at her, but she just rolled her eyes.

Next up were Mom and Dad’s presents. The first was a yoga mat and outfit. The second was a Broadway songbook. “For next year’s auditions!” Mom said when I opened it. The third was Princeton Review’s Best 385 Colleges. There it was. I’d known the college talk was looming ever since my ballet plans dissolved.

“You don’t have to look at it yet,” Dad said. “But now you have it in case you want to flip through.”

I knew Ethan had applied to a bunch of liberal arts schools in the area. And Jude to some of those, along with bigger in-state schools like Penn State and Pitt. Next year, Margot wanted to apply to schools in California and Alaska and other far-flung places. I still had no idea if I even wanted to go.

Later that night—after presents and dinner and It’s a Wonderful Life—I settled into my room. I put the yoga mat, Broadway songbook, and picture frame in a pile on my desk.

On my nightstand, my phone buzzed with a text from Colleen. It was a picture of Ferdinand in an elf hat. Merry christmas, ali-oop. miss you.