Getting Kole for Christmas (5 page)

The company for my misery takes flight when Trina gets asked to the dance the very next day. At least this time will be the last.

“So how did he do it?” Kole asks. I borrowed Melanie’s phone to text him but rather than text me back he called instead. Which I love.

“Circus peanuts,” I answer. “At least two hundred of them crammed into this massive elephant-shaped piñata. I’ll go nuts if you don’t go to the Christmas dance with me.”

“Hmm,” is all he says.

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling and wonder why Kole isn’t bashing on this one. It makes me feel like I can’t bash on it either.

“So how is she going to answer?”

“Well she’s trying to stick with the whole theme, you know? All I know is it has something to do with cotton candy.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles a second time. He sounds a little different today. Off.

“Thanks again for helping me out last night,” I say. “Melanie was so excited about it she insisted we answer him back first thing this morning.”

“Yeah.” I can hear the smile in his voice. Picture the dimple in his cheek. “Conrad called and told me. He’s pretty stoked.”

“You know what I think would be the coolest thing ever?” I ask.

“What?”

I twist the corner of my sheet around one finger. “If a guy just stuck around to get his answer right then.”

“You mean, just come right out and ask her to her face?”

I shake my head, sitting up as the idea takes root in my mind. “No, no. Not like that. He could ask her in a cool way, but still be there instead of driving off. And then she could answer him right there and not have to come up with some… lame way to respond. And it’d be better for the guy too because he wouldn’t be tortured the whole time waiting to find out if she was going to say yes or no.”

“That’s kind of risky.”

I furrow my brows and flick a circus peanut across my bed. “Risky?”

“Yeah. What if she says no right to his face? He’d never recover.”

“He wouldn’t?” I hear my mom calling from upstairs, telling me the gingerbread cookies are ready to frost. Tradition. One in a freaking million.

“Not really. I’d much rather get some … six pack of orange crush at my door.
I’m crushed I can’t go to the dance with you.
You know?”

“Hey,” I say, walking over to my mirror. “Do you want to come decorate cookies with us?”

“With your family?”

“Uh huh.”

There’s a long pause. My heart flutters out of beat as I wonder what he’ll say. In the quiet moment of anticipation, I rub at the smudged liner beneath my eyes. Pinch at my cheeks. And then reach for my tinted ChapStick.

“Right now?”

“Yeah. And you can bring Eli, too.”

Another pause. I start spreading the ChapStick over my lips just in case he says yes. Also it gives me something to do with my hands besides put them into a steeple and beg the heavens for this one small favor.

“Okay. I’ll be there in a few.”

“K, bye.”
Yes!
I jump up and throw one fist in the air in celebration. My heart is doing the happiest dance it’s done in ages. It’s like I’ve hit that home run after all. Kole is coming over to my house. Not with Cassie and Meg and Chase and Mike. He’s coming over by himself, and his little brother of course.

I stare at myself in the mirror and try putting things into perspective. We’re going to hang out with my family…

That last tidbit deflates me a bit, causes my face and shoulders to slump. But I lift them back up right away. This will be fun, right? Kole’s mom isn’t around a whole lot. They probably don’t do things like this too often.

I suddenly hate my outfit, so I swap my leggings for my favorite pair of torn-up jeans. I switch my T-shirt for a long sweater, and pull my hair back. Better.

Warm scents of ginger and clove waft through the air as I make my way upstairs. Christmas music pours from the universal speakers that run throughout our entire home. Earlier, I turned my bedroom speakers off, but I don’t mind the carols now. I don’t even mind the loud voices that echo off the kitchen walls – Melanie and two of her friends, the loudest of them all. Tiff and Evan giggle quietly at the counter while Trina helps my mother with something at the stove.

“Hey there, kiddo,” my dad says as he sneaks up behind me. He places his frozen fingers on my cheeks.

I flinch. “Oh, where have you been?”

“Just fixing a broken string of lights out there. We’re all set now.”

I smile, feeling more content than I have all season. I don’t need an invitation to the dance to feel complete. I’ll be just fine without it.

Feeling like the inner thought is close enough to the truth, I weave my way to the sink to wash up. I place three giant cookies on paper plates. A boy gingy for Kole. A boy gingy for Eli. And a boy one for me too since I hate having to make things all girly and frilly. Besides, might as well even things out around here with all the estrogen. 

The doorbell lets out its holiday chime.

The kitchen stills while everyone glances at one another in wide-eyed wonder.

“Oh, no,” Trina blurts. “I hope somebody else doesn’t ask me to the dance. I hate having to say no.”

“It’s Kole,” I say with an air of satisfaction. “He and his brother are coming to decorate cookies with us.” The Christmas song ends, and I’m pretty sure crickets come out of hibernation to chirp in the awkward moment. I seriously doubt butterflies hibernate, with all their caterpillar chrysalis type stuff, but on the off chance that they do, they’re up and at ‘em as well, whirling in my stomach at the speed of light.

“Just him and his brother?” Trina asks. “Like, he’s not coming with anyone else?”

I shake my head, grateful when a new song starts up. “Just him.” I hurry through the front room, my insides still fluttering like mad. I pull open the door and gulp. My heart skips at least one solid beat as I take in the handsome look of his face, lit up by the Christmas lights.

He glances at the sparkling display overhead before setting his eyes back on me. “Hi.”

My heart skips more beats. If it keeps this up I’ll be dead by the end of the night. It seems that – the more I admit I like Kole, the more I seem to like him. “Hi.” I glance down at his little brother. He’s nine years old, half Kole’s height, and so cute I could squish and pat his cheeks.

He slides the bill of his ball cap from front to back. “Hey.”

“Come on in.” I pause there while Kole stomps his feet and steps inside. His little brother follows suit, kicking off his shoes before shrugging out of his coat.

“So I just want to, you know, warn you guys,” I whisper before leading them into the den of Christmas madness. “They’re all a little crazy. My family, I mean.”

Kole shrugs. “I already know most of them, Kylie.”

“Yeah, but not like this.” I put my hands on his shoulders and force him to look me in the eye. “You’re about to witness the Bronson clan in their own habitat, at Christmas time, no less. What you are about to witness must stay between us.” I laugh during the last few words, but only because Kole starts it. A deep rumble in the back of his throat.

“Got it.”

“Me too,” Eli says.

They follow me into the kitchen. “Smells good,” Kole says.

I experienced a level of guilt while warning Kole and Eli about my family, but as we enter the kitchen, that feeling is a distant memory. I take in the frightening sight of sixteen eyeballs aimed right at us, and wonder if my warning wasn’t strong enough.

“You guys know Kole,” I say, my voice sounding weird in the already-weird-enough moment.

“Of course. Hello there, Kole. How are you?” My dad reaches out to shake his hand.

“And this is his cool little bro, Eli.”

“Hey, buddy.” Dad gives him a high five followed by a fist bump.

“Glad you could join us,” my mom says. “Kole, you’re a lot taller than I remember,” she adds.

“And more handsome,” one of Melanie’s friends says in a whisper. Her comment makes me curious. I glance over to see him with new eyes. My family’s eyes. Kole and I have been close for a few years now, and he’s always been handsome to me. But as I think of how much he’s changed over the years, take in his bulkier build and more chiseled jawline, I realize how handsome he must be to everyone else too.

By the looks on Trina and Tiff’s face, similar thoughts are going through their minds.

My shoulders lift. I clear my throat. “I’ve got our stuff over here,” I say, dragging him by a sleeve through the chaos.

I decide to head for the breakfast bar. A neglected corner of the room facing the sliding glass door. Perfect for watching the sun rise while eating breakfast. Also good for hiding from the family while decorating cookies with your secret crush and his –.

“Hey, Eli. Come sit by us.” Melanie and her friends pat the chair next to them.

“I have a little brother your age,” her friend, Marley, says as he takes them up on the offer.

It takes a good ten minutes for Tiff and Trina to stop looking at us, but as soon as we’re free from the twins’ collective gaze Kole and I start chatting. My mother’s finished cookies look exactly like stained glass. They rest at the center of the table guarded by one of those domed glass things that display cake. If I wake up early enough I can tune into the morning show and watch her demonstrate just how it’s done – right in front of everyone. Live! I’ll give her this – my mother is a brave woman.

I don’t even attempt the stained glass look. I simply reach for the nearest frosting – white – and spread it over the surface of the cookie. Enough to make it taste good. Already, Kole is done decorating his – a thick layer of blue and green covers the entire surface. He breaks off a leg and pops it in his mouth. An arm goes in next.

“So, Kole,” Trina pipes up.

My eyes widen in horror.
Please, no.

Kole tears off the other leg and looks over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Do you have any plans to go to the Christmas dance?”

I cringe, my eyes shooting to the burning hot oven. I suddenly envy that Gretel girl from the fairytale. My face heats. My cheeks feel like they’re burning. I know they must be as red as Trina’s silky, fancy blouse.

I feel Kole’s gaze on me, and force myself to glance up the tiniest bit. Kole flashes me a wicked grin.

“That all depends,” he says.

Is it possible for someone’s heart to explode? If so, I know mine is about to blow. It has morphed into this speeding, racing, ticking bomb that suddenly can’t stop wondering if any part of Kole’s dance attendance
depends
on me.

“Ooh,” Tiff chimes in. “Do tell.”

“Yeah,” Melanie says, “who does it depend on?”

Kole spins back toward the window and shrugs. “On my mom.”

I try to keep my eyes from widening.

“Yeah,” Eli says.

 “What about your mom?” My father asks. I wonder if he wants his neglected daughter to get a dance invitation as much as his neglected daughter does.

“Does she not want you to go?” my mom asks.

Kole glances over at me while further maiming his cookie. My eyes shift from his hands to his face. The moment feels surreal. Melanie sits at the table with not only Eli, but a couple of her friends. Tiff, on the other side, sits next to her boyfriend. I have no idea which of those two things Kole wants to be in my life, but to me – Kole is a
friend
that I wish was my
boyfriend
. And the strange thing is that it all seems to hinge on this stupid Christmas dance. Like, if he asks me then we’ll push past the friend zone and into new, mistletoe kissing territory at last. Only now – even if he does want to ask me – he might not be able to because of his mom?

“She might have to go to Hawaii for her job,” Kole says. “Of course, she’d take me and  Eli too. But we’ll have to leave next week. Before the dance.”

My sisters let out a soft, pouty whining sound in unison. “Aw,” Melanie says. “That’s such a bummer.”

“Hawaii doesn’t have any snow,” Eli gripes.

I can hear my family consoling him. Each having reactions of their own to the news. “It will still be a fun Christmas for you,” my mom tells Eli.

“What a neat experience that would be,” my betraying father says.

Meanwhile my heart isn’t ticking anymore. It’s throbbing. Pulsing with a sad, sick sort of heat. I can see myself slipping off an icy edge with nothing to grasp onto. All hope of salvaging this holiday is fading fast.

Desperate, I envision a few of my favorite movies. Some girls don’t get their happy endings until New Year’s. There’s always New Year’s Eve with the celebrating and the partying and the kissing-when-the-clock-strikes-twelve. I lift my seriously drooping shoulders and tell myself that will be my chance. If Kole has to go to Hawaii I will simply throw a party here and sit right next to him once the countdown begins. Things are in motion, the momentum already in full force; I do not plan on letting that baseball that represented the dance that
now
represents New Year’s Eve slip away.

“So how long would the three of you be gone for?” my mom asks. 

“We would fly home after New Year’s,” Kole says.

I’ve never understood that whole kick ‘em while they’re down comment, but in this moment I am having an inkling. I am already down. And I definitely feel like I’ve been kicked somewhere in the torso area. Hard.