Snow crunched under our boots as we strolled through the winter-wrapped wonder of Vieux-Québec. My short, messy brown hair was a wild testament to the gusts that played tag with the powder around us. It never seemed to sit right, no matter how many times I tried to tame it. But that unruliness matched my restless spirit.

I was on a mission: find the perfect Christmas gift for Mom and Dad, and maybe something special for Jacob, though he was right beside me, oblivious to my secret quest.

"Think mom will like this?" Jacob held up a delicate silver menorah, his eyes questioning.

We ducked in and out of shops, laughter mingling with the jingle of bells and the murmur of Québécois voices. Our breaths puffed out in frosty clouds. Then, the unexpected happened.

"Hey, want to see some magic?" A voice boomed from a crowd gathered around street performers. The jugglers, dressed in wildly colorful clothes, were tossing pins in impossible arcs.

"Sure," Jacob said, ever the adventurer, and before I knew it, the jugglers had convinced him to join in. My heart leapt into my throat as they lifted Jacob, using him as a prop in their performance. Pins were tumbling all around him in every direction, but they never once touched him. He stayed rigid, his body disciplined from gymnastics, the laughter bubbling from his lips belying his composure. I laughed too, pride swelling at my best friend's fearlessness.

"Your friend's quite the catch," one juggler quipped, and I couldn't have agreed more.

"Let's find those carolers," I suggested after the performance, still riding the high.

The familiar melody of carols guided us to Rue du Petit-Champlain where faces from school were singing under twinkling lights. They beckoned us over, and suddenly, we were part of the chorus. When my solo came, "God rest ye merry, gentlemen" flowed from me, my voice stronger than I remembered, each note hanging crystal clear in the cold air. Jacob's wide-eyed gaze beamed pride.

Laughter trailing, we clambered onto the Dufferin Terrace Toboggan Slide, squeezing onto the wooden sled. I felt the rush of the wind, Jacob's shoulder pressed firm against mine, our hands gripping the same rope. The world blurred into streaks of white and evergreen, our shouts lost in the roar of sliding on snow. The crisp air nipped at our cheeks, painting them a rosy hue. It was a moment of pure exhilaration, a memory etched in the heart of winter, where friendship and adventure intertwined in the most delightful way. It felt so good to be as close as I could be to Jacob, while we sped through the snow. Pure joy.

"Best. Ride. Ever," Jacob declared as we skidded to a halt at the bottom, grinning from ear to ear.

We sat close in the warmth of a cozy cafe, plates of steaming meat pie before us. Cocoa warmed our hands as we swapped jokes, our banter as easy as breathing. At some point, our fingers brushed, lacing together by accident—or maybe not. But neither of us pulled away. It felt... right.

"Today's amazing, huh?" Jacob murmured, gazing out the window at the falling snow.

The snowflakes swirled around us like a flurry of silver moths, each one dancing in the glow of the fairy lights strung above Rue du Petit-Champlain. I remember how they settled in Jacob's hair, dusting his black locks with a frost that made him look like an angel lost in a snow globe.

"Come on, Ethan," he urged, his breath forming clouds that mingled with the winter air. "Let's find the perfect gifts before all these shops close."

We darted in and out of the boutiques, our arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, our laughter trailing behind us like the end of a scarf caught in the wind. I watched as he picked up a delicate glass ornament, holding it up to the light with those mesmerizing blue eyes squinting in concentration. His smile was contagious when he found something he knew would make his family's Hanukkah special.

"Tiens, for your sister," I said, offering a hand-carved music box that played a tune neither of us recognized but both loved instantly.

"Something with fleur-de-lis," I decided, because Québec ran through her veins as much as ours.

The day waned, but our spirits didn't. With every step on the old cobblestone streets, every shared glance at window displays, I felt something more than friendship bloom—a warmth that went deeper than the kinship we'd always known. It was our city; its history etched into our bones, its beauty reflected in our joint adventures.

That night, as we sat huddled together sipping hot chocolate by Place Royale, our sides touching and the world painted in hues of joy, we both whispered it, "the happiest day of my entire life."

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Ethan and Jacob: Wish You Were Here

by SalientLane

Chapter 4