Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Gift-Giving

Happy Holidays from SFA!

Just for fun (much like everything we do here at SFA), we've decided to post another scene from the world of SFA Modern, which pretty much writes itself.

We don't know about your high schools, but ours had an annual Secret Santa gift exchange. This could mean many things. If someone nice was your Secret Santa, it was a week full of excitement. In JLY's case, she got secret notes with candy every day that week and a big present at the end. On the other hand, if you were like KL, you might not hear anything from your Secret Santa until two months later when he hands you an open Excel Saga DVD with a lackluster apology.

Oh, high school.

In any case, that Secret Santa exchange program was the inspiration for this holiday bonus scene.

Happy Holidays from all of us at SFA!

Gift-Giving

Wisteria was feeling smug. She had finally been assigned to give Rakam a gift for the holiday gift exchange at school which meant she was finally able to pay him back for last year. On the appointed day, he had presented her with her present: a pair of men’s sneakers in size 12. When she rejected them, he’d widened his eyes and feigned disbelief. “Wisteria, you don’t like them? And I spent so long picking them out for you,” he had added. “I suppose I’ll just have to take them myself.”

But this year, she would have her revenge. She’d found just the thing: a gold, heart-shaped mirror. She’d even practiced what she would say. I wanted to get you the thing you loved the most, she would tell him with a smirk.

It would be perfect.

When it finally came time to exchange the presents in the gym, she marched up to him, ready to shove her wrapped gift at him. But to her surprise, he was standing there holding something out to her.

She looked at it suspiciously. “You weren’t assigned to me,” she accused. “I made sure of that.”

“Does it matter? Maybe I’m making up for past crimes,” Rakam said with a shrug.

She took it from him hesitantly, almost sure it would be a joke as snide as the one she had planned for him.

“It’s not going to bite you,” he prodded her, prompting her to tear off the wrappings. The last thing she would ever want was for Rakam to think she was afraid.

She pulled away the bits of silver paper and revealed a metal rectangle with a soft square back. “It’s a picture frame,” she stated, perplexed.

“Good job, Sherlock,” he said. “Are you going to turn it over?”

“I imagine it’s a picture of you,” she said dryly.

He smiled as she flipped it over. “You could say that.”

Wisteria’s eyes fell on the picture, and she got quiet. She had expected to find a cheesy, glamour-shot of Rakam, the kind you took in a mall picture booth for a dollar. Instead, it was an old photograph, yellowed with time and worn at the edges. In it, a much younger version of Wisteria’s mother sat beside a much younger version of Rakam’s mother, and in front of them, two toddlers were playing on the grass.

“It almost looks like we used to get along, doesn’t it?” Rakam said ruefully.

Wisteria laughed. “I’m sure this was taken right before you took my doll and kicked sand in my face.”

“I was toughening you up,” Rakam objected.

Wisteria rolled her eyes and punched him in the shoulder.

“See how well I’ve trained you?” Rakam teased.

“Seriously,” Wisteria said, looking down. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t you have something for me?” Rakam asked, grabbing the wrapped package from her backpack and dangling it in front of her.

“I wouldn’t—That’s not—” Wisteria stammered, fumbling over the words as she tried to grab it back. After what he’d given her, her present hardly seemed just.

Her reluctance only made him more enthusiastic as he ripped into the present. He tore the wrapping and opened the box to find the gilded, heart-shaped mirror. He looked at it blankly before turning to Wisteria curiously.

Wisteria shrugged. “I wanted to get you the thing you loved the most,” she said lamely, though the phrase she had once thought would sound triumphant and clever was now caught in her throat. “Rakam, I—”

“It’s perfect,” he said, cutting her off. “You know me too well.”

When she looked up at him, she saw the familiar cocky grin on his face.

“Merry Christmas,” she said weakly as he turned to leave.

“And a happy new year,” he called over his shoulder.