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When Mass ends, I’m eager to leave so I can catch Irene in the parking lot.
I’ve spent the last ten minutes thinking about what I’ll say. I might be
confused about my feelings for her, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna miss
my chance to wish her a merry Christmas.
I shoot a look at my parents, wondering when they’ll be ready to leave,
but they’re bellowing the last verse of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” like
their lives depend on it. Finally, once the choir finishes and the majority of
people have left, Mom and Dad pick up their coats and gesture for us to
leave. I’m so antsy that I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet.
I needn’t have worried, though. The second we get outside, I feel a tug
at my elbow.
“Didn’t know you were so into Christmas hymns,” Irene says. She’s
standing alone, her family nowhere in sight. Her lipstick shines against the
exterior lights.
I blink, trying to find my voice. “I am very devout.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Couldn’t you feel my prayers wafting toward you? Dear God, please
bless my ruthless enemy on Christmas, even if she is a cheerleader…”
“Hmm. I guess my prayer for you to get a better sense of humor didn’t
work.” Her eyes twinkle as they roam over my face. “Listen. Do you want
to drive around and look at lights?”
“Oh. Um.” I’m suddenly flustered. For some reason, my mind gets
caught on the logistics. “I don’t have my car. We walked here.”
“I have mine.” Her eyes take on that challenging look she had at the
Emporium after-party. “We could get hot chocolate. My treat.”
My family is watching us now. Thora has her arms crossed, but Daphne
looks starstruck. Mom and Dad are beaming.
“Hi, Irene!” Mom says.
Now it’s Irene’s turn to be flustered. “Oh hey, hi! Great to see you.
Merry Christmas. Feliz Navidad. Happy holidays.”
“You’re babbling,” I say under my breath.
She looks pointedly at me. “Hot chocolate?”
“Um—yes. Mom, Dad?”
“Be home by midnight,” Mom says, winking.