Fifteen-year-old Michelle Webster stood in front of the mirror in her room, applying blush to her cheeks. Once she thought it was enough, she put the brush down to observe her reflection.

She had brushed her brown hair as neatly as she could and tied it into a bun held in place by a blue butterfly clip. She had applied some blue eyeliner to her eyes, and just a bit of nude lipstick. She would've done more, but she knew her parents would've given her a hard time and made her wash the makeup off. They always teased her for being so vain, but she didn't think she was. Was it a crime to want to look good when going out in public, especially during Christmas?

She looked down at her ruffled red dress. It was one of her favorites, and one she only wore on special occasions. She also wore her favorite silver earrings and a silver necklace with a blue pendant.

"Michelle, hurry up!" she heard her mother call from downstairs. "We're leaving in five minutes!"

"Coming!" she called back. She grabbed her small handbag, double checking to make sure she had everything, and raced down the stairs. Despite being happy with her appearance, she couldn't stop the sinking feeling of dread in her stomach. She tended to dress up even more nicely than usual when she felt nervous about going out somewhere. She didn't know why. It just made her feel more confident.

The reason for her nervousness was partly that she wasn't the biggest fan of Christmas. She was no Scrooge, but she wasn't the type to go caroling and baking cookies either. It wasn't really dislike of the holiday itself, but rather the people who would be attending the Christmas party. Or rather, person.

That person being her brother, Tommy.

Or Tommy the Terror, as she called him. Tommy was eight, seven years younger than her, and the biggest menace in history. She was sure most older sisters said that about their younger brothers, but she really meant it. He had spent the last seven years of her life making her miserable. Too bad she couldn't remember the first seven. They must've been amazing.

And he had a track record for ruining Christmas.

Actually, he had a track record for ruining everything, so Christmas was nothing special. But it stood out to her because she remembered loving the holiday, once. She had always gotten up extra early on Christmas day, hummed carols all day long, and eagerly opened the presents. But that was before Tommy had come into the picture and ruined everything.

As she raced down the stairs, she checked to see if she had her phone, before remembering that she had lost it a month ago. She'd been asking her parents for a new one, but they'd always said they couldn't afford it and it was her fault for not being more responsible with it.

Her mother frowned disapprovingly as she came down the stairs. "Oh, Michelle, is that really necessary? I really wish you wouldn't wear so much of that makeup and jewelry. It's not natural for a girl your age."

Michelle thought this was an exaggeration. It wasn't like she had caked her entire face in makeup or used half her jewelry collection. But before she could protest, her mother added, "But I suppose it'll do. Come on, we're going to be late."

As they hurried out, Michelle's father and brother were already in the car. If Michelle was overdressed, Tommy was a caveman—at least, by Michelle standards. He was wearing a slightly wrinkled white shirt with some kind of stain—small enough to be unnoticeable to most people, but it made Michelle cringe at the thought of going out in—and his usual denim shorts. At their mother's insistence, he had brushed his usually messy hair to look slightly presentable.

As her mother piled into the front seat next to her father, Michelle had no choice but to sit next to Tommy in the back.

He looked up from his magazine to look at her. "Who's this girl? She looks like she just came from a fashion show or something."

Before Michelle could bite her tongue, she snapped, "Better than looking like I just crawled out of bed."

She could practically see her mother frowning in the front seat. "Michelle, please. Don't be mean to your brother."

Her jaw dropped. "What? He's the one who—"

"You're the older sibling. You should know not to let childish insults get to you."

"Yeah, Michelle," Tommy said, sticking her tongue out at her.

Michelle took a deep breath, like she always did when she was around Tommy. She was usually a pretty patient person, but Tommy was the only one who could test her patience. Well, him and her parents

She didn't even look like the rest of her family. She was tall and skinny, with stringy light brown hair and brown eyes, and Tommy was short and chubby, with thick, even lighter brown hair that was almost blonde. Her parents were short as well, her dad more muscled and her mom more slim, both with hair a similar color and thickness as Tommy's.

The Christmas party was at Michelle's friend's Talia's place. She had invited a lot of people from school. As they reached her house, the Webster family piled out of the car, grabbed the big shopping bag with presents Michelle had gotten for her friends along with another similar-looking bag—no doubt presents for Michelle and Tommy—and headed up the front steps. Mr. Webster rang the doorbell under the wreath and Christmas lights decorating the door.

It was opened a minute later by a brown-haired woman who Michelle recognized as Talia's mother. She looked directly at Michelle. "Oh, hi! You must be Talia's friend Michelle. Come in, come in. Make yourself at home."

As they stepped into the house, the smell of gingerbread cookies filled Michelle's nostrils and music from a Christmas song reached her ears. She took the bag with her presents from her parents and walked further into the house.

Talia's family always went all out for Christmas. Just in the living room, they had a huge silver Christmas tree with neatly wrapped presents underneath, holly and wreaths hanging from the green-and-red lined wallpaper, and a coffee table with snacks and a radio playing the Christmas song laid out on the green holly-outlined napkin, with a Christmas movie playing on TV. Kids from Michelle's school were sprawled on the couch and Santa rug, helping themselves to food and watching the movie.

Upon seeing Michelle, Talia stood up from the couch and wrapped her in a hug. She was wearing a green dress with reindeers and sleigh bells patterned on it, a green streak dyed in her light brown hair and a halo of mistletoe on top of her head. "Shel! I'm so glad you made it."

"Why wouldn't I?" Michelle joked, returning the hug. After releasing her friend, she said, "Nice to see you haven't lost your Christmas spirit." She knew how crazy Talia and her family were about Christmas.

"Just make yourself comfortable. Help yourself to everything. I bought presents for you, I'll show you later."

Michelle nodded. Talia was insistent on opening the presents herself and then giving them to everyone. One of her Christmas traditions. "Great, thanks."

"Did you bring presents for me?" Michelle cringed. She had forgotten Tommy was there.

Talia turned her attention to Tommy, kneeling down to his eye level. "Of course I did."

"Where?" he asked eagerly.

"Under the tree. Just look through it until you find ones with your name."

Tommy nodded, before practically diving under the tree and wasting no time scourging through the presents.

"So he gets to open them himself, and I don't?" Michelle griped, crossing her arms.

Talia giggled. "Michelle, don't be mean. He's just a little kid, of course he's excited."

"I gue—" Michelle trailed off as she saw another boy enter the room. It was Jeffrey Turner, the most attractive boy at school—at least, according to her. He had done something to his dark blond hair so that it looked even better than usual. She felt her cheeks heat up. She didn't know he was going to be here!

Talia giggled again, aware of her friend's crush. She leaned towards her to whisper in her ear. "Just play it cool."

Jeffrey carried a bag with presents and was giving some of them to his friends. Michelle tried not to look at him and focused on the movie. She cringed as she heard Tommy talking close to her, but tried to ignore him. She yelped as she felt something wet on her dress.

She looked away from the movie to see Tommy holding a now empty cup of apple juice. "Oops."

She looked down at her dress. It now had a large, damp spot staining it. And it had been one of her favorites…

"Tommy!" she groaned.

"It was an accident!" he insisted, not sounding very remorseful.

Michelle took a deep breath. The party was still beginning. She wouldn't let this one thing ruin it for her. She took napkins from her handbag, which she had packed just in case—living with Tommy, you knew to be prepared—and tried her hardest to wipe the stain off, with little success. There wasn't much she could do to cover it, so she just kept wiping and returned her attention to the movie. She was just getting invested in it when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Hey, Michelle."

She jumped, forcing her heart rate to calm, and turned to Jeffrey. "H-hey, Jeffrey."

"I got you something," he said, taking the last present from the bag. It was flat and square, wrapped in silver and green wrapping.

"Th-thanks," she replied, taking it with fumbling hands. "You shouldn't have." She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a tape with songs from her favorite band.

When she didn't respond immediately, Jeffrey awkwardly said, "I didn't know what you'd like. I mean, I heard you say you liked this music once—"

"I love it," she interrupted. "It's great. Thank you." She suddenly felt awkward. "Sorry I didn't get you anything. I would've, but I didn't know you were coming—"

"It's fine." He waved it off. "I got lots of presents from my friends."

At that point, Tommy had turned his attention away from his presents to focus on the interaction. He walked over to Michelle, staring at the tape in her hand. "What did your boyfriend get you?"

Talia laughed while Jeffrey looked uncomfortable. "Uh…"

"He-he's not my boyfriend," Michelle managed to say, blushing.

Tommy feigned surprise. "Really? I thought he was, from the way you talk about him. You're always like 'ooh, Jeffrey! I love you soooo much!'"

Talia laughed again while Jeffrey looked down at the floor, clearly uncomfortable. Michelle felt her cheeks heating up from both embarrassment and anger. What could she say? She couldn't deny it or Tommy would just keep talking about how much she loved him, but it would be too embarrassing to admit it.

Noticing her friend's discomfort, Talia said, "Hey, Michelle. I think it's about time to unwrap the presents. Why don't you go first?"

Thankful for the subject change, Michelle nodded, heading towards the tree while Talia announced that to everyone, who promptly turned their attention away from the food and movie.

Talia stopped. "Woah. What happened to your dress?"

"Tommy…" She stopped. What was the point of dwelling on it?

Talia giggled. "Little kids are so cute, don't you think?"

Cute?

Before she could reply, Talia bent down, finding a large, lumpy present with Michelle's name written on the tag in looping cursive. She slowly and carefully unwrapped it. Michelle tried to guess what it was. When she had fully unwrapped it, it was revealed to be a boxed Harry Potter collection.

"Thank you!" Michelle exclaimed. She was a big fan of the books, as Talia knew. She had copies at home, but they were battered, drawn on and torn up, thanks to someone. Even though she hated books, or items in general, that messy, she liked the series enough to read them. Still, this pristine, shiny collection, in immaculate condition, was a welcome change.

Tommy turned away from playing with his present—a set of Hot Wheels—to observe Michelle's. "What are those books, Shel?"

Michelle knew better than to respond, but Tommy came closer to observe the box.

"Cool!" he said. "I heard my friends at school talking about those books. Can I have a look?"

"No—" Before Michelle could say more, Tommy had grabbed the box from her hands and taken the first book out. Before she could stop him, he opened it and started thumbing through it.

Michelle grabbed the book from his hands, but it was too late—the pages were smeared with brown smudges. Tommy's hands were dirty from the Christmas cake.

"Tommy!" she groaned, showing him the book. "Look what you did!"

He shrugged, not looking too remorseful. "I just wanted to have a look. You never show me your books at home."

"Because you ruin every one you get your hands on!" Michelle took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. It was just one book. There was still a lot of the party left. She wouldn't let Tommy ruin Christmas for her.

"Nevermind," she muttered, taking napkins from her handbag to wipe the pages. When she wiped them along the chocolate smears, it just spread them further along the page. She sighed, closing the book and placing it carefully back in the box. She'd just have to clean it when she got home.

"I got you something too," she told Talia, who had just finished unwrapping someone else's present for them. She turned to Michelle upon hearing her voice. Michelle put down the bag and reached inside to take out the present with Talia's name.

She looked at the flat, round object thinly wrapped in pink paper. "Gee, I'll never guess what's in here."

"But you'll still like it, right?" asked Michelle. They both liked the same band.

Michelle looked into the bag. She only had two other presents for two other friends—Max and Lola. She knew she had to wait for Talia to open their presents for them first.

In the meantime, she wandered over to the coffee table to help herself to the food. She placed a slice of Christmas cake on a paper plate, as well as filling a paper cup with cider. She turned to head back near the Christmas tree, looking around the room for Max and Lola. She found them sprawled on the rug again, having returned their attention to the movie since Talia was so busy unwrapping everyone else's presents.

She had just caught sight of them when she felt herself trip, giving a little squeal as she stumbled over something in her path and went sprawling onto the carpet, trying in vain to catch the food before doing so.

This caused several guests to stop what they were doing to stare at her. She heard a few of them laugh. "Oh my gosh! Michelle, you okay?" asked Talia, helping her to her feet.

Michelle dusted herself off, before seeing that Tommy was the thing—or rather, person—she had tripped over. He was sprawled in front of her, playing with his toy cars and making them go 'vrrm vrrm'.

"Tommy!" she groaned. "You tripped me!"

He looked up, just seeming to notice her. "It was an accident!"

"Bull—yeah right it was!" she amended quickly.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going," he suggested nonchalantly, before returning his attention to his cars.

Again, Michelle forced herself to take a deep breath. She found herself doing that a lot when Tommy was concerned. There was still plenty of food to eat.

She turned to Talia. "I'm so sorry about the mess. I'll clean it up—" She was already looking in her handbag for napkins.

Talia held up her hand. "No need. You're the guest, right?"

Michelle picked up the paper plate and cup. "Uh, where's the bin?" At that point, most of the guests had returned to what they were doing.

"The kitchen," said Talia. "Don't worry, I'll clean up the rest." She headed to the coffee table to get napkins from there.

"If you say so. Thanks." She exited the living room, a bit happy to get away from the bustling and noise, and turned the corner to the kitchen. Even that area was extravagantly decorated, with red and green streamers hanging from the ceiling and Christmas-themed magnets and photos stuck on the fridge.

She was surprised to see her parents there. They were talking quietly amongst each other, but turned upon hearing Michelle enter. "Hey, Shel," greeted Mr. Webster. "Enjoying the party?"

"Uh, yeah…mostly." She couldn't tell them the truth, or they'd just reprimand her for being too hard on Tommy.

"That's good. Listen, I think it's time for us to show you and Tommy your presents."

Michelle perked up. Maybe more presents would make her feel better. "Sounds good. I'll just give the rest of my presents to my friends first."

She was about to turn around when her mother spoke up. "What happened to your dress? Oh, Michelle, you didn't spill something on it, did you?"

"I didn't!" she insisted. "Tommy did."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure it was an accident."

She sighed, expecting no less of a response from her mother. She dumped her rubbish in the bin next to the fridge before returning to the living room.

She gave her presents to Max and Lola and placed their present for her in the now empty shopping bag—a jacket she had been admiring for a while that they had used their combined pocket money to buy for her. With a sigh, she walked over to Tommy to tell him their parents had presents for them.

He looked up from his cars. "Hey, Shel. What presents did you get?"

"Just—" Before she could answer, he peered into the bag and took out the jacket. "Whoa, cool!" It was a navy blue jacket with fancy grey patterns stitched on. She tried fitting one of his tiny arms into it, but she snatched it from him before he could.

"Just let me try it on," he pleaded. "Just for a little while. I won't break it, I promise."

"No! Get your own jacket. This one's mine." She clutched it protectively against her chest. No way was she letting Tommy ruin another present.

Not to be outdone, Tommy snatched a sleeve from her and tugged with all his might. Michelle clutched it tighter against her chest with one hand and used the other to grip the sleeve Tommy was pulling even tighter.

After a few moments, she felt Tommy let go of it and thought he had finally given up.

"Oops." That word filled her with dread. She looked up to see him sheepishly holding a chunk of the sleeve.

She couldn't help it. She let out an exasperated scream. To hell with taking deep breaths. How much was she supposed to take in one day? Tommy had embarrassed her in front of her crush, messed up her book, tripped her, and torn her jacket.

Just then, her father walked in. "Hey Shel, are you ready for—"

He stopped at the sight of Michelle looking furious. "What's wrong?"

"Look what Tommy did to my new jacket!" Her father just looked confused, so she walked over to him and showed him the sleeve.

"It was an accident!" Tommy insisted, pouting. "She wouldn't let me try her jacket on. I just wanted to have a look."

"Michelle, it's just a small tear. I couldn't even see it until you pointed it out. I'm sure Tommy's just excited because it's Christmas. Cut him some slack, okay?"

Cut him some slack? That was all she had been doing throughout the entire party! She opened her mouth to protest, but then Mr. Webster added, "I was going to tell you, I think it's time to show you and Tommy your presents."

"Cool! Presents!" said Tommy, getting to his feet and clasping his hands together with excitement.

Michelle forced herself to take deep breaths again. In a way, her father was right: it was just a small tear. Most people wouldn't see it unless they were up close. And the mention of presents had cheered her up a little.

She and her brother followed their father out of the living room. They headed to the guest room in the house, where her mother was sitting on the red-and-green striped mattress that replaced the usual one, the big bag with their presents on the floor beside her. She smiled at Michelle and Tommy.

"There you two are! We got you presents."

"Yay! Presents!" Tommy ran over to the bag, only to be stopped by their mother. "Wait, Tommy. I think I should show Michelle her present first." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small, flat one neatly wrapped.

Once she opened it, it revealed a shiny, brand new phone. Michelle practically squealed with delight. She couldn't remember how long she had been begging her parents for one, only for them to say no.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She ran up to her mother and gave her a hug.

Mrs. Webster hugged her back. "Glad you like it, dear."

Michelle pulled back from the hug. "What about the rest of my presents?"

"Oh, sorry, dear. We didn't get you any others."

"Oh…" Michelle couldn't say she was too disappointed. She had already received several presents from her friends, so it'd just be selfish to complain about not having more. "That's fine. Thank you so much for the phone!"

At this point, Tommy was already rummaging through the bag for his own presents. "Woah, cool!" He wasted no time ripping off the wrapping of action figures, more toy cars, a Lego collection, Play-Doh, and several more. It was at least twice as much as all of Michelle's presents. But Michelle wasn't paying much attention. Instead, she was clutching her camera as if it were a newborn child, in order to ensure Tommy didn't lay one finger on it.

"Michelle, could you take a picture of us?" asked Mrs. Webster. "It'd be great to remember this Christmas."

Michelle hesitated. "Well…"

"Oh, go on, Shel," urged Mr. Webster. "What's the harm? Everyone, say cheese!"

Michelle conceded. There was no real reason not to, except for the worry that Tommy would somehow mess up the photo just by being in it.

"Hi-ya!" Tommy was playing with his new toy lightsaber. "I'm the Jedi!" He swung it precariously close to Michelle, causing her to drop the phone onto the edge of the bed in surprise.

"Tommy, be careful with that," she scolded. "You could damage something."

"Oh, Michelle, give it a rest," urged Mrs. Webster. "He's just having fun."

"Everybody smile!" said Mr. Webster, putting his arms around his wife and son.

Michelle opened the camera app and held the phone up. Tommy was still holding his lightsaber, doing a pose. She quickly took the photo before he could do anything.

"Let me see!" said Tommy, running toward her. "Did I look cool enough?"

"No, Tommy—"

"Let him take a look," urged Mrs. Webster. "Honestly, Michelle, what's the harm in letting him see the picture?"

Michelle had no choice but to reluctantly let Tommy take the phone from her. As soon as he laid eyes on the picture, she tried to snatch it from him. "Alright, you've seen it—"

"How come I don't have a phone?" pouted Tommy, holding the phone out of her reach.

"I'm sorry, dear, but you're too young," said Mrs. Webster. "Once you're Michelle's age, then you can have one."

"I want to take pictures!" declared Tommy.

"Well, I don't see the harm in that," said Mrs. Webster. "Michelle, why don't you teach your brother how to take a picture?"

"No. I already showed him one, isn't that enough?"

Mrs. Webster frowned. "Michelle, why are you always so unfair to your brother? If he wants to learn how to take pictures, it could be a great bonding experience for you."

Yeah, right. A great bonding experience for herself and frustration, maybe.

Michelle let out a long-suffering sigh, taking the phone from Tommy's hands. "Okay, so you just hold it up, like this." She held the phone up to her parents. "Then you press this button, see?" She pressed it for another photo.

"Let me try!" said Tommy, trying to take the phone from her.

"No. I already taught you—"

"What's the point of teaching him if you won't let him try?" asked Mrs. Webster. "Come on, Michelle. Just one photo."

Tommy snatched the phone from her. "I want to take a picture of the party." Before Michelle could stop him, he raced to the living room, Michelle following.

Tommy ran to the other end of the living room before Michelle could reach him. "Everyone say cheese!" He raised the phone, then snapped a picture, surprising most of the guests.

He lowered the phone to take a look at the picture. Then he said, "Hey, Shel. Catch!"

Taken aback, Michelle made a clumsy grab for the phone as Tommy threw it towards her—too late. As if in slow motion, it crashed into the wall.

Michelle bent down to pick it up, her heart in her throat. The front of it had a crack down the middle. When she tried turning it on, she found that she could, but when she tried using it, it worked a lot slower than before.

This was it. This was the last straw. She could handle no more. No amount of deep breaths would fix this. Everything else, she could ignore, but not this.

The phone still in her hand, she let out another exasperated scream and charged towards Tommy, like a bull that had seen red. The guests stopped what they were doing to watch.

"MOOOOOM!" Tommy screamed as if he was being murdered—which, in a moment, he was about to be. "Michelle's chasing me!"

Michelle stopped, knowing her parents would've heard, but didn't soften her venomous glare towards Tommy. When Mrs. Webster came in, she had no confusion who Michelle's fury was directed towards.

"What happened?" asked Mrs. Webster, heading over to Tommy to check if he was alright.

He faked a few sniffles, looking at Michelle with fear. "Michelle was chasing after me."

"Look what he did to my phone!" said Michelle, showing her mother the crack.

Confident that Tommy was fine, Mrs. Webster turned to Michelle. She frowned upon seeing the phone. "Michelle, are you serious? You frightened your brother so much over that? I'm very disappointed in you."

"But… but… look what he did…!"

"Honestly, Michelle. It's just a little crack. You can be so dramatic sometimes. We'll discuss this later." She pulled Tommy into a hug and stood up with him in his arms, before heading out of the living room, likely because she didn't want to make more of scene in front of everyone.

Michelle looked at her phone again. In all fairness, the crack was fairly small. But still. She had been longing for the phone for so long, and had even gone to the courtesy of letting Tommy a picture—not that she had much of a choice—and he had damaged it as soon as he got his hands on it. She felt tears prickle behind her eyes, but blinked fiercely. She wasn't going to cry. At least, not in front of everyone.

She hurried out of the room, thankful that the guests were easily distracted by the presents and food, and returned to the guest room where her mother was talking to her father, still holding Tommy who was faking a few tears.

Mrs. Webster frowned at her when she came in. "Michelle, I expected better of you. You scared your brother half to death, charging at him like that. He can't help it if he's excited because it's Christmas."

"He scared me half to death throwing my phone across the room!" She felt her bitterness and spite take over as she talked. "You gave him loads of presents, and he still had to ruin the only one you gave me."

"Michelle, that's not fair," her father spoke up suddenly. "You're older than Tommy, so of course he'd care more about Christmas than you. I really expected you to be more mature than this. You're acting like you're the eight-year-old instead of him. You always act so immature when your brother is concerned."

Immature? Tommy had spent the entire party trying to ruin Christmas for her, with her trying her hardest to be patient and ignore him, and she was the immature one?

"Tommy's been ruining the party ever since I walked in!" Michelle declared. "He embarrassed me in front of Jeffrey, ruined all my presents, and tripped me over!"

"Michelle, he's just a little boy," her mother scolded. "And he's excited because it's Christmas. Remember, Christmas is for everyone, not just for you. Surely you can cut him some slack."

"No, I won't!" Michelle felt like screaming. "That's all I've been doing! I've been cutting him slack through the entire party, trying to ignore everything he did, but he hasn't cut me any slack!"

Her parents exchanged glances. "Maybe it's time we go home," her mother suggested. "It's nearing the end of the party, anyway."

Tommy pouted, apparently over his fright. "But I want to stay more!"

"Sorry, sweetie, but I don't think we can stay if your sister is going to behave like this," Mrs. Webster said, giving Michelle a dirty look.

"She ruined Christmas!" Tommy declared. "She's such a Grinch."

Her parents neither agreed with Tommy or defended Michelle, just started packing up Tommy's presents to go home.

Yeah. She was the one who had ruined Christmas.