Some people are willing to betray years of friendship just to get a little of the spotlight
-Lauren Conrad
The mild, Texan winter was in full swing with tinsel decorations everywhere. Christmas displays popped up on houses and at shopping malls. Eventually, school vacated for the December holidays. There was Christmas cheer for those who celebrate, and festive joy for family and friends just having fun. Some visitors who fled from the colder states arrived, on the other hand others left to spend the break elsewhere.
Augusta and Pedro both hated eggnog, but had a mutual love for toasted marshmallows.
"Why the heck do people drink that yellow muck?" Pedro asked.
Augusta sipped her hot chocolate and leaned back on Pedro's chest. They sat on the plush, leather recliner in his sitting room. "I think it's 'cause other people are doing it." She pouted and swished her mug.
"I know that look. What's up, Nkechi?"
"I was just thinking about how I'm the biggest freaking hypocrite."
"How?"
Augusta burst out laughing. "I drunk snuck into my boyfriend's room and wanted to get laid on my eighteenth birthday." She sat up and gazed at his face. "Other people did it and I thought it would be fun to do it too."
"I'm still pissed off that I didn't get to see you thump your rump when you climbed back over your fence." Tears of laughter streamed out of Pedro's eyes. "The morning after I heard the sound of a sack of pota -oof!"
His cheeky walk down memory lane was interrupted by an elbow to his side. Augusta rubbed the site and rolled her eyes playfully.
Pedro responded with a bear hug that spilled her drink. "Have you called Priya?"
"We chat everyday. She's having a blast with her family at Pune in India. How about Lucas?"
"Who the fu-"
"Pedro!"
"I dunno. I think he's still at Aspen with his folks. We don't need to keep constant tabs on each other like girls." He grinned.
They sat watching the crackling flames of the fireplace. The logs of wood glowed, red hot from within and snapped as they were consumed by the flames. Gingerbread cookie aroma drifted from the kitchen, and wrapped the room in its sweetness.
"Pedro, can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
Augusta adjusted herself and took a deep breath. "I don't want to sound paranoid."
"You can tell me anything, babe." Pedro held her hand, and stroked the fingers. "I'm here for you," he reassured her.
"I know being famous on Speakerverse is like being rich in a game of kiddie poker, but don't you get worried that it's out of control?"
Pedro's brow furrowed for a moment and he ran a hand through his hair. "Well, there will always be haters who'll come online to sip their Hatorade." he shrugged. "I don't see how it's a big deal. Just ignore them or delete mean comments."
He was forced to put that method into practice a few days earlier. Pedro shared a few videos of himself in action on the football field. Within days he had gotten a lot of exposure with likes, comments and shares. The upside was the likelihood that sport scouts and talent managers would see him. The downside were the thirsty admirers who spammed his inbox with nude pics and free hook up offers. He set his account to private after the horror movies encountered.
"Maybe this is easier for you since you've always been popular," Augusta said. "I've been reluctant to share anything on Speaker. You won't believe that someone went ahead to share footage from my rendition of Silent Night at the Roseview Baptist Carol."
Pedro arched an eyebrow. "Isn't that a good thing? I'm sure some people thought your opening act was beautiful. Who knows how many people you've inspired to play the flute."
Mrs Milian walked in with a warm smile on her face. "Will you join us for dinner?"
"No thanks, ma'am," Augusta replied. She rose from her chair. "Pedro is joining my family and I for dinner."
"Oh, I forgot. Don't forget to take the Christmas hamper along, mi hijo," she said to Pedro.
"Yes, mum."
"I'm sure you'll be a perfect gentleman," she added.
"Mum!" Pedro groaned.
Mrs Milian backed away laughing. "Okay, okay. You're not kids anymore. I know," she said.
Pedro's sister rushed in and started gushing about the quilt she was knitting. Before Pedro could commend her and lead her out, Augusta held her hand.
"Wow! It's lovely, Isabella." She ran her fingers over the black and pink checkered design, nodding with approval.
"Thanks," she responded with eyes cast to the ground.
"Don't be shy about your talent. I don't know how to knit. Do you promise to teach me in your spare time?"
Isabella's face brightened. "I'd love to."
Augusta hugged her. "We have a deal." She put her hands in her pockets before whispering loud enough for Pedro to hear, "It will be knitting for cool chicks only. No boys allowed."
***
When Augusta and Pedro left his house for Augusta's home on the next street, they walked in peaceful silence. The neighborhood was quiet, but a small group of Christmas carol singers congregated in front of a nearby house. They sang 'O Come All Ye Faithful' in calm but melodious voices.
"Isn't that wonderful?" Augusta breathed. "People singing from their hearts purely for the joy of doing it."
Pedro stood by her side as they tarried near her front door watching the performers. "They've got great voices," he said.
Suddenly, Augusta pointed to a blue station wagon parked across the street. "Psst!" She tugged Pedro's shirt to get his attention. "I saw that car when I left the salon yesterday," she said.
Pedro looked at the car and said nothing, but a nerve ticked in his jaw.
"I know that look," Augusta said. "Have you seen that car before too?"
"It kinda looks familiar."
"Kinda?"
"Yeah, kinda!" he snapped.
Augusta flinched at his harsh reaction, and he released a long breath. "Babe, I'm so sorry. I was a jerk."
"Damn right you were," she hissed.
Pedro's eyes twinkled with mirth. "I deserved that."
"Let's just go over to get a better look. Maybe it's someone we know."
Hand in hand, they walked across the lawn to get a closer view of the vehicle. The unknown driver behind the wheel floored the gas and sped off before they could reach it.
"There is fire on the mountain," Augusta whispered.