❄3
“Here,” Clyde murmurs, sliding a plate full of cookies onto the ground beside me.
The ground was cold-unbelievably so- but I was too stubborn.
I was currently sitting outside his balcony on the ground, watching the snow fall and reflecting on everything he told me.
Glancing at the cookies, I look away, staring absent mindingly at the sky.
“Is this supposed to be a sorry for running me over and kidnapping me?” I ask.
He winces. “Sure.”
Sighing, I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my chin on them.
I wonder how my mother was coping with all of this. I was the only family she had left and-
I blink back the wetness in my eyes, sucking in a breath of cold, frigid air.
Clyde is silent, watching me surreptitiously, unaware that I can see him in my peripheral.
He stretches his long legs out beside me, sighing heavily and resting back on the palm of his hands.
“Will you answer some of my questions?” I ask quietly.
“…Depends.”
Well, that was better than nothing.
Now that I could ask questions, I was unsure of what I should be asking.
“Are you really Santa Clause?” I ask in exasperation, looking at him.
He grimaces. “The current one. Or I guess the current one in training.”
My head was spinning. “I didn’t know you guys started out so…young.”
He laughs humorlessly. “So what if I’m not the Santa Clause everyone’s pinned me to be.”
“Don’t get too defensive now,” I pitch in, amused that I got such a reaction out of him.
Clyde laughs, his legs brushing mine. “I’m not saying that the Santa Clause pictures you see in department stores are false, it’s just one phase of our life. You’re right, we do start training early.”
“-Training?” I ask in disbelief. “You train to eat cookies and drink milk?”
He throws me a bland look, flicking my forehead. “Don’t be daft. Sure, all that’s fun but do you know how to manage a factory making toys, drive reindeers and distribute toys to the entire world?”
Well that escalated quickly.
“Erm, no,” I tell him, squirming.
He nods, a smug look on his face. “I assumed that. By the way, I’m lactose intolerant so i can't have a lot of milk.”
“What!” I shriek, leaping to my feet.
My life is over. My brain has officially gone bonkers and I am in a mental institute, dreaming all of this absurdity .
Clyde laughs, getting up and brushing off his pants.
YOU ARE READING
The Santa Clause Act (Completed)
Teen Fiction❝ Wait," I say, backing away. "Let me get this straight- you're Santa Clause?" I stare at the boy no more than a couple years older than me. He had to be kidding. He rolls his eyes, his handsome face illuminated by the lights on...
