ANOTHER YEAR LATER
“And what time do you call this?” Jonathan teases, raising an eyebrow at her as soon as she steps out the fireplace.
“I'm sorry,” Anna huffs, dusting herself off and swinging her sack over her shoulder. “I spent, like, an hour waiting for you at that college of yours in New Jersey, and then I realised you weren't even on my New Jersey list, so I checked the Georgia list and saw you were back on that one, so I figured you must've gone home for Christmas, so I finished off New Jersey and New York and Pennsylvania and came straight here so be thankful because now I have to double back and do both the Carolinas and both the Virginias. Which won't be fun.”
“Aw, you did all of that just for me?” he needles, following her to the kitchen table that she's already gone over to.
“No,” she corrects in a deadpan as bites into the first cookie she can grab from the plate that is ready and waiting. “I did it for Flynn.”
“Is that so?” he slides into the chair opposite.
“It is completely so,” she says through a torrent of biscuit crumbs. At the sight of the smirk beginning to appear on his lips, she raises a finger to point at him warningly. “And you can wipe that grin off your face, too.”
“What grin?” he asks.
“That one that makes you look like a conceited know-it-all,” Anna retorts, but it doesn't have much bite. Jonathan clearly notices, because the aforementioned grin only grows in magnitude, but he has the intelligence not to say anything, reaching across the table to grab a cookie and take a bite.
“Mm,” he hums. “These are good.”
“Such modesty,” Anna mutters, rolling her eyes again. “How's college?”
“Tiring,” Jonathan sighs. “And stressful.”
“Oh,” she says, eyes alight with sympathy. “That doesn't sound fun.”
“It's not,” he agrees, sighing again. There's a pause, then a mischievous glint makes its way into his eye. “There are perks, though,” he says lightly.
“And what are those?” Anna questions, brow raised.
Jonathan smiles and leans back into his chair. “College girls,” he says breezily.
Both Anna's eyebrows are raised, now, but she lets a smirk creep across her face that matches that of the boy sitting across from her. “Oh?” she asks, her tone even.
“Mm,” he nods, still smirking. “Because damn, they are hot.”
“I'll bet they are,” she retorts in a similar tone, then, on the pretense of being interested, she moves round the table to the seat directly next to his, sits in it, then leans in, lips near his ear. “Got your eye on any in particular?” she questions in a murmur.
Anna can see him going pink, and smiles to herself in satisfaction. “Well - I - uh...”
“Thought not,” she snickers, moving away to laugh at his expression.
“That was mean,” Jonathan pouts in response.
“Aw, I'm sorry,” she ruffles his hair. “Has your pride been wounded?”
“What's with this new sarcastic Anna, anyway?” he questions.
“I don't know,” she replies in a thoughtful tone of voice. “It's just...I don't know.”
YOU ARE READING
Twelve Ways To Spend One's Christmas Eve
Short Story"Anna dislikes being stuck three-quarters of the way down a chimney. She really does. Not to mention, she's still going round North America, and there's, like, three continents still to get through in about as many hours."
