Author's note at the beginning of the story? Woah. This is a foreign concept. Anyway, if you want to fully enhance your experience during this chapter, play the song on the side when you see the word in bold. Of course, if there's another slow paced Christmas song that you'd rather play, feel free to play that, instead. But it just makes things more exciting, which is always a plus. Okay, shutting up now. Enjoy and I'll cya at the end.
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“Noel!” I exclaimed, fighting to smother the smile that threatened to spread across my face. “’Wrshnug’ isn’t a word. Nice try though. You know, you may be one of the worst Scrabble players I’ve ever had the misfortune of playing with. And considering I’ve played this game with Piper and she may be the worst speller I know, that’s actually saying a lot.”
“That isn’t fair!” he protested with a crease set in place on his forehead as he stared distastefully down at the current layout of our Scrabble rematch. After I had nearly crushed him the first time (final score: 128 points for me and a whopping 96 points for Noel), he had insisted that I had won purely out of luck and demanded a rematch immediately. By now we were halfway through our second round of Scrabble and I was already in the lead by a solid twenty points.
“Explain to me the unfairness of the situation,” I pressed, staring at him with a bored expression because there was obviously nothing unfair about the fact that I was a better Scrabble player than he was.
“It’s all about luck,” he argued. “If you pick up good letters, you’ll have a better game. You just keep getting all the good letters.”
I rolled my eyes at his absurd debate. “No, it’s about who can take the letters they got and come up with better words. Last round I had an ‘X’ and I still managed to make a five-letter word. It’s all based on the player’s vocabulary and ability to think up words that they can make with what they’ve got.”
He leaned back against the couch, folded his arms over his chest, and huffed in annoyance. “You tell me what words I can make with those letters other than something basic like ‘rug’ or ‘hug’.”
I refrained from scoffing at his childishness. He wasn’t even trying anymore. “Hello? You could do ‘shrug’ or ‘wrung’. It’s really not that hard.” He suddenly sprang forward and squinted down at his letters to see if my words that I had concocted right on the spot had worked. To my satisfaction and his irritation, sure enough, they did.
“This isn’t fair,” he decided for what had to be the fifth time, at least. “I’m playing with a genius. It’s not my fault you know more words than me.”
“You’re in honors classes too, buster. I know you’re not dumb. You’re not even trying, admit it.”
He shrugged. “This game is getting kind of old, not gonna lie.”
I was about to offer a ceasefire and let Noel out of his misery by declaring we end the game when my phone started ringing on the floor a couple feet away from where I was sprawled out on the floor. I reached for my phone, stretching myself as far as I could out of sheer laziness, and pressed the ‘answer’ button once I had the phone in my possession.
“Hello?”
“Hi honey. How are you?” my mother asked, though I could instantly tell something was wrong due to the trace of hesitation in her voice.
“I’m fine. What’s up?”
There was an audible sigh on the other line. “I have some bad news, Carol. A freak blizzard hit the west side of the country. It was only supposed to be a minor snowstorm but it’s producing more snow than originally expected.” I must have looked distraught, because Noel was watching me through his green eyes that were studying me questioningly and full of concern. Eyebrows knitted together, I held up an index finger that meant to give me a minute until I was done talking with my mom to explain what was going on. “Anyway,” my mom continued, “all of the flights are getting canceled. And I’m not sure when they’ll be reopening. But I’m not sure if your father and I will be able to make it home for Christmas after all. I’m so sorry, honey. I feel terrible right now. I know this isn’t what you wanted.”
“When will you know?” I questioned, though I suddenly felt lost. Christmas without the family? How was I supposed to cope?
“Your dad and Brent are still looking into things to try and figure out if there are any alternatives. We’ll do everything in our power to get home to you in time for Christmas, I give you my word. I love you so much, honey.”
“Yeah, love you too,” I answered blankly, ignoring Noel’s unwavering stare.
“Are you over with the Henleys?”
I suddenly looked up and gazed around Noel’s empty house before my eyes locked with his. She couldn’t know that we were both home alone. Then she’d really worry. And that was the last thing I needed for my mom, who was surely stressed out like nobody’s business at the moment, to be doing. “Uh, yeah. I’m with Noel right now.”
At least I was being honest. Mostly. I was just leaving a piece of the truth out. But it wouldn’t kill my mom if she didn’t know that. As long as I was safe, I was okay.
“I’m glad. Listen, I have to go because your dad needs to use the phone to call the airport, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow and keep you updated. I love you and I give you my word that I’ll try my absolute hardest to get home to you by Christmas. Just hang tight.”
“Okay,” I mumbled, suddenly needing to hear more of my mom’s voice and not wanting to have to hang up the phone. “Bye.” There was a beep on the other line and then it went dead. I sighed heavily and hugged my knees to my chest, frowning.
“What’s wrong?” Noel promptly interrogated, sensing that all was not well after my phone call with my mom.
I stared at him like a lost puppy. “Call your parents,” was all I said in response. He stared at me like I was crazy but pulled his phone out of his pocket anyway.
“Carol what’s going on?” he inquired as he already started dialing his parents’ number.
“You said your parents are out in Nebraska, right?” I confirmed. He nodded his head, still looking confused. “There’s a blizzard out on the west coast, I guess,” I explained. “My mom just called and said that all the flights are getting canceled. She doesn’t know if they’ll be able to make it back in time for Christmas; I guess the snow is really coming down out there.”
Before Noel could reply, one of his parents answered their phone. I watched with declining spirits as his outward mood went from interested and approachable to stiff and apprehensive.
“So you’re saying you guys might not be home for Christmas?” he asked, fidgeting in his spot on the carpet and playing with a loose thread on his sweatpants. I studied his expression: how he kept his face in a straight line, as if he didn’t want me to get a glimpse of whatever emotions he was feeling right now. Even though his face didn’t give much away, I could tell by the way his foot was quivering that he was upset.
“And when were you going to tell me that I might be on my own for the holidays this year?” he asked, a sudden coldness to his tone that made me turn away, feeling like I was intruding on a conversation that wasn’t meant for my ears. Should I pretend like I had to pee so he could have privacy? I didn’t know what to do.
He ran a hand through his dark hair which messed it up, but that wasn’t my main concern. What was Noel’s relationship with his parents like? My mom drove me up the wall and on most days, I wanted to punch her in the face and throw pieces of her clothing all over the living room just because it would make her mad, but I still loved her and my dad more than anything. But Noel seemed almost . . . upset with his parents.
I thought about when I had told him that I liked his mom and he had gotten kind of quiet, like he was unsure how to respond. Did Noel and his parents have some kind of strained relationship? I couldn’t picture any kind of troubles in the Henley household. Noel’s parents were very nice people and great neighbors, and everything always seemed fine between them and him when we’d eat dinner together, but what if behind the scenes, there was some unrelieved tension?
“I love you too,” Noel finally said, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to the warm living room in his house, where we were both splayed out on the carpeted floor around a disregarded Scrabble board. He jabbed his finger on the ‘end’ button and then tossed his phone on the sofa behind him, looking ahead blankly.
For a while, neither of us spoke. “I guess that we’re both stuck,” I finally announced out loud, primarily to break the uncomfortable silence that hovered in the air above us in a cloud of unspoken thoughts.
“Looks like it’s just you and me for the holidays, huh?” he said with a small smirk, though there was no denying that it looked strained. I shot him a ‘stop pretending like you’re not affected by this’ look and he sighed in defeat, receiving the message. Finally, he dropped his gaze to the floor and mumbled, “Well this sucks.”
I came over and sat next to him, my back against his couch for support. I didn’t touch him, but somehow I knew that just our proximity was a comfort enough. “Hey,” I started, my eyes glued to his downcast face. “I know you’re upset. Believe me; I’m on the verge of having a breakdown right now. But we’re gonna get through this together, right? We’re not totally alone for the holidays; we have each other. And that probably sounds really cheesy, but it’s true. And we agreed on no more arguments between us, remember? Listen, I want my parents. But that’s not going to make them suddenly appear. And I’m not going to let this ruin my Christmas. Either we can make the most of this and be there for each other, or we can mope around until our parents come. I don’t know about you, but family or not, I wanna enjoy Christmas. You in?”
He smiled a small, faraway smile that somehow made a sudden warmth fill my body. “Yeah, I’m in. As long as we don’t have our families here, we gotta be there for each other. And I say that if one of our families gets back and the other’s doesn’t, we still have to stick together until we both are with our families. Is that a deal?”
Nodding my head in affirmation, I stuck out a hand and shook his. “It’s a deal. You and me until our families return. We can’t let this get to us. If the other person is feeling down or wanting their family, we gotta cheer them up until they feel better. Because we’re not alone; we’re in this together.”
“You and me,” he agreed, trying the words out loud as if to see if they fit together.
“But I really hope they can make it back in time,” I whisper, drawing pictures on the carpet with my finger, my mind millions of miles away. To my surprise, Noel took a hand and squeezed my shoulder.
“Everything will be okay, Bell. I promise.”
And for whatever reason, I believed him.
“Hey Noel,” I started to ask, wanting to clarify the situation with his parents, “is everything okay with you and your parents? You sounded kind of . . . distraught on the phone.”
Noel stared ahead, though he wasn’t looking at anything in particular. His eyes were kind of glazed over and he seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled dismissively in reply.
I contemplated this. I in no way wanted to intrude on Noel’s personal life, especially since he didn’t seem willing to share. But at the same time, what if it was something he had bottled up inside and needed to get out, no matter how weird or painful it would be, before the problem would start swallowing him up and eating him alive in a blanket of misery? Venting always made me feel better. Whenever my mom and I would argue a lot or get in another spat, I always vented to Piper, which would make me feel much better afterwards.
Did Noel ever vent to his friends?
As far as I knew, Noel was an easygoing guy. He was funny and friendly and nice to everyone. A little over the top and bigheaded sometimes, but he seemed happy at school whenever I saw him. But here . . . there was something different. And I couldn’t figure out what it was. Noel still had his moments where he’d be really sarcastic or goofy or he’d let his relatively large ego be exposed, but it was like he had taken some kind of mask or filter off and was saying and doing things that he wouldn’t normally.
Was I supposed to reach out to Noel, or keep him away at an arm’s length? I sighed. This would be so much easier if I had experience with guys that exceeded discussing homework or the occasional awkward eye contact.
Ding dong!
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the echoing sound of the doorbell that reverberated throughout the house. Noel and I turned toward each other in alarm, pupils dilating. This time neither of us had any idea who could be at the door.
“Well come on,” I finally said after we sat there in silence for a few seconds, neither of us making any attempt to get up. Noel finally got up and we both slowly crept toward the door. “Wait!” I hissed before we got to the door. He turned to look at me. “What do we do if it’s a murderer and they have a gun?”
Staring at me in amusement, he simply replied, “I’ll protect you. But I think that the likelihood of a murderer to come knocking at our door is pretty slim to none, so I’d say we’re safe.” Before I could further protest, he flung the door open to be greeted by a crowd of what had to be at least fifteen people crowded on or near Noel’s front porch. There was a split second of silence, and Noel and I looked at each other in bewilderment, entirely unclear on what the appropriate way to react was. And that was when they burst into song.
“Deck the halls with boughs of holly fa la la la la la la la la,” their voices rang out in a shrill melody that resonated throughout the dark neighborhood, lit up by Christmas lights that clothed some houses in multicolored mosaics and others in a majestic yet classy yellow-white string of light. I bit my lip to refrain from laughing, and I could tell by the way the corners of Noel’s mouth were twitching that he was, as well.
There, right up front right in the middle of the group of carolers that ranged in age from what appeared to be around eight or nine all the way up to late fifties, was a highly annoying boy in our grade named Mars, sporting a Santa suit, completed with a big Santa’s hat and a fake white beard.
Mars was a rather plump blonde boy who was known for being quite the bully in our neighborhood growing up. His family moved over to our country from Germany back when he was little, and he was a downright oddball, to say the least. Now his favorite pastimes included singing in our school’s choir, participating in all the plays/musicals, taking on the role as an active member of the Boy Scout troops, and being a generally annoying human being overall.
There was a lot of speculation on his sexual orientation at school. Personally, I didn’t have any trouble believing that there was a possibility of him being gay.
He completely ignored Noel and I and looked straight ahead, singing loudly and putting his heart and soul into the Christmas lyrics that he was belting out in time with all of the other strangers. I fought off a snort that came dangerously close to escaping and took a sideways glance at Noel to gage his reaction. Like me, it seemed as though Noel had no idea what he should be doing. Did Mars not suspect anything suspicious? What if he told his friends who told their friends and then it suddenly got around school that I was at Noel’s house?
Calm down, I told myself. Mars doesn’t even have many friends to begin with.
Once they wrapped up singing the song, I felt myself getting antsy, ready to go inside and away from all of the sketchy carolers. There was something about this bunch and how seriously they were taking their singing that struck me as suspicious.
What if these carolers had guns or something?
Stop being so ridiculous, I mentally scolded myself.
They finished singing, and I released a breath that I didn’t know I had been holding. Thank God that’s over. There was a pause and then . . . Oh no.
“Just hear those sleigh bells jingling ring-ting-tingling too!”
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding.
“Giddy up giddy up giddy up let’s go! Let’s look at the show,” they continued, clearly blind to Noel’s and my discomfort. Finally, unable to help myself, I started giggling at the awkwardness of the situation that Noel and I had been thrust upon. There was something comical about it, and I couldn’t contain myself. At first, they ignored it and kept singing, but when Noel started joining in, sniggering at Mars and his random group of carolers, they started to let their annoyance show.
They sang a couple more verses and then ended it, clearly too frustrated by our lack of cooperation to finish the song. “Merry Christmas,” an older man near the middle finally said, tipping his hat at us, though he wasn’t smiling. Mars shot us an irritated glare before turning and proudly marching away to torment the next house with his tribe of overly enthusiastic Christmas carolers.
Once they were out of earshot – or not – the cackling began. I nearly fell on Noel as we both quickly ducked back inside the security of his house, Noel quickly making a grab for the lock and flipping it until it was locked with a jerk. “What—” Noel tried to get out between laughs, “even was that?”
By the time we made it to the living room, I felt like I was on the verge of tears I was laughing so hard. It wasn’t even that funny, really, but it was the combination of everything that brought out the hilarity of the situation. It was hard enough taking Mars seriously on any other given day, but tonight in that pudgy Santa costume with that fake beard next to all of those strangers, singing Christmas carols to an uncomfortable Noel and I with the seriousness of someone during an American Idol audition, I couldn’t do it.
Maybe to the average person, it wasn’t funny. But to Noel and me, it was hysterical.
Noel went over to the TV and grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels until he reached the music channels. He stopped on the channel for Christmas music and held down the increase volume button until some old Christmas tune blasted throughout his house. The giggles started up again when he disappeared in the kitchen and reappeared several moments later with a giant Santa hat engulfing his head and a makeshift beard that he had quickly created by rubbing flour on his chin. He picked up a magazine that was perched on the edge of one of his mom’s side tables and held it out in front of his face, pretending to read lyrics from its glossy pages, and swayed along to the music, a comically serious expression on his face.
“Noel,” I gasped between spurts of laughter. “Stop it. I—I can’t.”
He didn’t stop. The song did.
And then a new song came on. And this time, Noel actually started singing along, taking me by surprise. I started laughing even harder, feeling unable to breathe. I collapsed against his couch as I watched him sway along to the music with the same determined look that Mars had on just a few moments prior.
“It’s a marshmallow world in the winter, when the snow comes to cover the ground; it’s the time for play, it’s a whipped cream day, I wait for it all year round.”
“How do you even know this song?” I asked him, my body still racking with uncontrollable cackles that didn’t seem likely to subside anytime soon. I had an actual side stitch, I was laughing so hard. And it felt so, so good.
He paused his singing session long enough to answer my question. “I used to listen to this song all the time when I was little.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Henley, but I could’ve sworn you said just a week ago in Spanish that you hate Christmas music.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I did. But I love Christmas music. All of my friends hate Christmas music, so I just said that to avoid conflict.”
By now I was able to control my laughter significantly more than beforehand. Did he seriously lie about his interests just to impress his friends? I had always pegged him to be the leader of the group and not worry about what others thought, but what if I was wrong?
“Why didn’t you just admit that you liked Christmas music?” I asked him curiously. “Your friends aren’t going to disown you if you don’t share all the same interests, are they?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. My friends are different than Piper. You can be yourself and never have to worry about what Piper thinks. But with my friends . . . I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Come on, Miss Carol Bell, we must spread Christmas cheer and sing loud for all to hear.” I took the indication that he didn’t want to discuss the issue any further and smiled at his Elf reference.
“You know, it’s kind of mean to make fun of Mars, even if he is a total weirdo,” I countered, though there was no denying that I was taking joy from Noel’s goofy representation of the chubby blonde boy from across the street.
Waving a hand dismissively while he retrieved a tissue and wiped the flour off his chin, he shook his head. “Nah, he’ll be okay. That little douche started snickering at me just a couple days ago when I answered a question wrong in chemistry. He thinks he’s so smart in that class, but he isn’t! He totally deserves this, trust me.”
The marshmallow song that Noel apparently enjoyed finished playing and was replaced by a much more modern and well known track: Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree. Noel grabbed ahold of my hand and started twirling me around his living room and I grinned. He took the Santa hat off of his head and plopped it on my own scalp, swallowing the top portion of my blonde hair inside of the material that was surely going to make it static-y when I took it off later.
I ignored the idea of hair static and left the hat on, dancing around the living room next to Noel, way too contented and caught up in the moment to care about anything. The upsetting phone call with my mom a little while ago had managed to slip my mind at that moment, and I had no intentions of bringing it back.
As I twirled and skittered around the empty floor next to Noel, who had a lopsided smile that never wavered, I felt like I was finally starting to regain the Christmas cheer that had filled my soul when I was a kid. These past couple days, I had been lacking the feeling of optimism and joy that the holidays always seemed to bring, but in that moment I felt free.
It was like Noel and I were the only two people in the world. And as strange of a concept as that was, it felt so fitting. I didn’t know how, but it was like Noel was the missing puzzle piece that had been hidden at the bottom of the drawer of toys for all these years. It felt so undeniably refreshing to have him as a part of my life once again, even if it wasn’t definite whether or not he’d stay this time.
Right then, I didn’t care about the past or the future. I was only thinking about one thing, and that was the present with Noel. I wasn’t concerned about the fact that he was popular and I wasn’t, or the idea that maybe we would go back to being complete strangers after this was all said and done, which admittedly seemed a very likely occurrence.
Maybe that was one of the magical things about Christmas. It was that one time of year where you could connect with people who you normally wouldn’t and be friends for once. If you had any differences with anybody, you could put them away on a shelf to be temporarily forgotten. I was putting my opinions on Noel and the person who he always appeared to be in storage and basing my thoughts of him on how he was right then and there.
And right then and there in that moment, I liked Noel. Which wasn’t a problem. It was actually quite nice to have fond thoughts of Noel Henley for once. The problem?
I wasn’t sure I liked him as merely a friend.
And that was bad. Very, very bad.
While maybe there was the slimmest of possibilities that Noel and I could pursue a friendship after this whole Christmas-home-alone-together thing, it was an absolute given that nothing more would come of it. Even I knew that. Noel Henley was . . . Noel Henley. And I was, in all simplicity, me. Noel wouldn’t go for that. Noel didn’t go for that.
I could name three girls off the top of my head that Noel had dated, and they were all pretty and popular and outgoing. None of them were anything like me. Clearly Noel had a thing for the pretty and popular girls – not that I could blame him – and the closest I ever got to being popular was the time I had to present an award to one of our teachers at an assembly.
Basically, my cause was useless.
“Carol? Why are you so quiet?” Noel suddenly asked, pulling me from my thoughts. You’re right, I thought. Why even am I thinking about this? Of course I don’t like you. We’re only just now talking for the first time since fifth grade, for goodness’ sake. It would be ridiculous if I suddenly decided I liked you. Which, I don’t.
“Just soaking up the moment,” I admitted. “This is actually fun. I kinda wish there was a way to capture this night and put it in a frame to remember forever.”
“Maybe there is,” he murmured. “You know, Bell, if I had to come up with any word to describe you, it would be ‘Christmas’. If Christmas were a person, it’d be you.”
“Aw, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever told me,” I joked. He smiled and right at that precise moment, the song changed to a significantly slower melody. I glanced at the TV, curious what the song was since I had never before heard it and I thought I knew every Christmas song under the sun. It sounded really pretty and wintery and whatever it was, I liked it.
Noel extended his arms out to me and stared at me suggestively with a sly smirk. “Miss Carol, would you care to dance?” he asked me in a rather snobbish voice. I chuckled and my eyes darted toward a small patch of flour that lingered on his chin, even after he wiped it off.
“I mean, I guess if I have to,” I said teasingly because the thought of dancing with Noel made me feel flustered and humor was my only way of feeling calm and collected in situations like these. He rolled his eyes blithely and grabbed my hands, placing them behind his neck and then moving his own hands down by my waist. He led and I followed as we swayed to the music, and it was almost unreal how natural it felt.
While the first bit was a tad awkward as I tried to get a hang of the rhythm and how to dance properly, once I had caught on, I felt comfortable in Noel’s arms. It wasn’t weird or difficult to keep up like I had always imagined, and I wanted to stay like that all night. Of course, I knew that the song would end almost as soon as it began, but in that exact moment, it was still playing and everything was perfect.
Noel wasn’t the popular athlete/class clown/hottie and I wasn’t the reserved/studious/sweet girl who had a tendency to better relate with children than her peers. We were just Noel and Carol; Carol and Noel. It was as if all labels had been stripped away and the only thing that we had to hold onto was what we were certain of and not what we assumed.
While we danced together, we could’ve been anyone. We weren’t entitled to be anybody but ourselves, and it was up to us to decide what ourselves were.
The pressure from school and our peers and families had faded away into the background and the only thing that felt real was the dimly lit living room that had a Christmas melody playing its sweet tune and the spicy scent of Noel’s cologne that I wanted to inhale every day for the rest of my life. What even was that smell? Whatever it was, I was in love with it. Hands down the best guy’s scent of all time.
As the song began its closure, Noel transfixed his gaze on me and I forced myself to stare back at him, even though a large portion of me yearned to turn away in mortification under his tantalizing scrutiny. My cheeks were definitely blushing. What was I supposed to do? Why was he just staring at me with such great intensity when I was only several inches away from his face?
Did he just move closer, or was that my imagination? What if he tries to—oh God; what if he tries to kiss me? What do I do?
A million thoughts whizzed through my head and my panic grew with each passing second. I couldn’t kiss Noel Henley. He was experienced and I wasn’t. I hadn’t even brushed my teeth in a few hours and my breath probably still smelled like that hot pocket from earlier that evening.
I swear he leaned in a little closer and my heart was pounding in my chest and I felt so panicked yet so enthralled by the whole situation that I felt like I was going to explode. My cheeks were flaming and I felt like there was a giant gong resounding throughout my chest where my heart was in a mighty sequence of pulsating beats.
I’m not ready for this; I’m not ready for this.
I couldn’t tell if he was coming closer or it was my imagination but I just wanted to turn and run away as we gradually stopped dancing, still taking miniature steps around the living room. It wasn’t that the thought of kissing Noel Henley repulsed me; I was willing to bet that he was a great kisser. It was just that I wouldn’t make that same bet on myself, seeing as I had never kissed a boy before. And there was no way that I was taking any chances. Not tonight.
“You’re a good dancer,” he murmured. Oh God, please don’t let it happen. Please.
And just like that, it was all over in a split second.
“Ow!” I suddenly shrieked, pulling away from Noel’s grasp. I looked down where I had stepped on one of the letters from Scrabble. One of the letters that had saved me from what could’ve been a really, really bad moment. I bent over and picked it up. It was an ‘L’.
“I guess we should clean that up, huh?” Noel said lightly, though he had seemed to have lost a bit of the spark that had been in him only several seconds ago. I nodded my head airily.
“Yeah, we should.”
Although a minor fragment of me wished that our little moment could have gone uninterrupted, I felt so relieved that it was over and nothing had happened. What was I thinking, believing for one second that Noel would kiss me? I was being ridiculous.
I shook my head. Whatever that whole . . . whatever that moment even was, it was finished. And now I needed to be more cautious. There was no way I was letting anything like that happen again. Noel and I were strictly friends. And I couldn’t let anything happen to change that.
As we wordlessly picked up the pieces to Scrabble, I couldn’t help but think about how nice it had felt to be in a boy’s arms and slow dance to Christmas music without a single care in the world. And I could only hope that someday, when the time was right, I’d find a boy who I could do that with and be able to call him mine.
That boy just wasn’t Noel. The sooner I’d realize that, the better.
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Yo dawgy dawgy dawgs! Yeah, I won't do that again. Sorry 'bout that. Anywho, I posted chapter four a day earlier than I originally intended. So hurray for that. And if you guys can please let me know in the comments how you felt about this chapter, I'd love to know. I'm dying to hear your reactions. Also, have any of you heard Justin Bieber's Christmas album? I don't like JB but I love his Christmas album. I don't really have much to say. Happy Veterans Day! Dedicated to Mar because, as promised, I incorporated a character named Mars. I love all of you and hope you all are having a great month! Peace out homedizzles!