Salty

Nineteen | Orgasmic Chicken

Nineteen | Sloan

The first day of winter brought warmer weather. The Midwest really couldn't decide which season it wanted to be in. Where just two weeks prior sat almost a foot of snow, the yards were now back to displaying grass. Not warm enough to pass on a coat, but definitely warm enough that it didn't feel like Christmas was around the corner. The blast of warm air had every family around town rushing to put up their outdoor Christmas decorations. The entire street lit up at night—some houses twinkling, some with nativity scenes, some with just a wreath on the door and a tree in the window. All except for one townhouse that fell right in the center.

Hallie had no decor because she had always spent Christmas at home with her family. I had neither family nor decor. It wasn't like I would buy a tree even if I could afford one. It was a holiday that was basically never experienced. Steve and I had grown up in the worst sorts of foster situations. It was hard enough to get food that wasn't expired or clothes that fit without holes, let alone receive an actual gift. Growing into the adults we now were, I also couldn't afford to give them. Spending the holiday with Steve was easy, because he understood. We didn't do silly things like gifts. We played card games and might binge a TV show. If we were really lucky, we would spend the holiday at whatever jobs we held, ignoring the day altogether.

This year would be harder. Just like Thanksgiving, I was preparing for the worst. And unlike Thanksgiving, I knew a certain chef would not be taking my mind off the loneliness. There were no hours to be put in at Mulligan's on this holiday, because family restaurants close for family time. I'd be home, alone and depressed, and likely killing an appliance trying to cook my way through the day.

It never felt right to celebrate a holiday when you didn't grow up with them, anyway. You'd think I would have learned to get over that over the years. And that meant it definitely didn't feel right to attend a Christmas-themed party.

"Whoa." Hallie's hand guided the bedroom door further open so she could take in a better view. "Who are you, and what did you do with my best friend?"

I bit the inside of my cheek and took in my appearance again from the mirror attached to the dresser. The knee-length cocktail dress I wore may have been purchased secondhand from TJ's store, but it fit me like a glove. Just barely sitting at the edge of my shoulders, the neckline slightly scooped across my chest, keeping the dress sexy but classy at the same time. Long-sleeved and completely covered with black sequins, the polyester beneath the shimmering pieces was just barely seen but cherry red, giving it the slightest Christmasy feel. Surprising not only myself but my best friend, I was wearing a tamed red lipstick, eyeliner, and even had some simple faux-pearl studs in my ears.

"Sloan, you look to die for." Hallie made a complete circle around me, eyeing me from top to bottom, feeling the sequined sleeve with her hand. "This is stunning on you."

Hallie had been ready to go for over an hour—dressed festively in a black sweater dress of her own, with knee-high boots. Meanwhile, I was dragging my feet. The Mulligan's Christmas party for the employees was the last place I wanted to go tonight. Not because it was being held at the very place we all worked, but because I was avoiding someone and had been for almost two entire weeks. Thirteen days of swapping shifts, dodging looks, and keeping to myself while craving Ollie's knowledge of the kitchen. He was allowing me to do it, too. The pit in my stomach hadn't stopped aching since leaving his bed. Tonight, there was no way to avoid him.

"I don't know what to do with my hair," I said, allowing my confidence to dwindle a smidge while continuing to take in the sight of myself. "Or shoes. I feel stupid."

"Well," Hallie said, scooping up my long brown hair, bundling at the nape of my neck. "You don't look stupid. Unless stupid hot is what you were going for."