“Hey,” he says when I jump up to sit next to him. “I miss the suit.”

I glance down at my blue jeans and green hoodie. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want the kids to see Santa stuffing his face with something other than cookies and milk. It ruins the magic.”

“You’re great with them,” he says. “George liked you.”

Thinking about that kid again makes my chest squeeze. “He’s awesome.”

“Yeah, he is. Did he ask for something other than a family this year?”

“Yeah, he asked for a telescope. I’m guessing that’s not something the social service workers can get him.”

“Definitely not.” Harlow takes a sip of the coffee. “I’m going to get it for him, though. The kid deserves to have something nice.”

If I’d had this conversation with Harlow in high school, I think I would’ve been surprised. But today? I’m not at all. I hadn’t realized back then how many sides there were to him, and I hate that I did that. So many people narrowed me down to just a nerd (which was kind of fair) but that wasn’t all that I was. And it used to bug me how people assumed it was. I guess I wasn’t any better compared to them.

“I’ll go with you when you buy it,” I blurt before I realize I’m going to. “I mean…if you want me to. I don’t know if picking out a gift for someone falls into relationship territory.”

“Sure, I’d love it if you could come along. He’s actually the only person I’m buying for this year, so I’d love a second opinion.”

My eyebrows lift. “You’re not buying anything for your sister or your parents?”

“No.” The response is curt, letting me know he doesn’t want to talk about it. But I’m not really sure how I’m not supposed to comment on that.

I stay quiet for a few seconds, and that’s about as long as I can go before I have to say something.

“Why aren’t you buying gifts for them? I know that’s not what the holiday is about, but they’re your family. My family and I still buy for each other.”

“Well, I’m happy for you.” He takes another sip of the coffee and stares across the village where Jacklyn is currently fussing at one of the workers because a bow on the fence is slightly crooked.

“Have you guys really grown this far apart?”

“Leave it,” he says, his voice low. “It’s not any of your business.”

“But—”

“Calvin.” He turns to look at me, and I realize his eyes have that dark look they’d get in high school right before he got in trouble for something. “Leave it alone. Not all of us are like you and your family. There are some things…some things that aren’t getting fixed, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumble even though it really isn’t okay. Because when Harlow talks about her, there’s no anger in his voice. There’s bitterness, and underneath that is so much hurt. It’s like I can feel it coming off him. It’s deep and has obviously been there for years.

I always thought I knew Jacklyn and Harlow, but after spending the last few days around both of them, I’m realizing I have no idea who they are. Jacklyn isn’t as nice as she leads people to believe, and Harlow is a lot gentler than I ever thought he would be. There’s a whole world of him under that outer layer he’s obviously used to protect himself.

Even if he won’t tell me about it, I know there’s something deeper going on with him and his family. And even if he won’t let me help him, I want him to know I’m here for him.

I put my hand over his that’s resting between us and squeeze his fingers. “I know that what we’re doing is only until New Year’s. But I hope you know that I’ll still be here for you afterwards. And you should get used to it since we’re going to the same school soon.”

Harlow glances down at our joined hands and smiles. His shoulders relax. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Cal.”

I want to dig more, but this time, I hold my tongue. I already told him I’d be here for him. If Harlow wants to talk about it, he’ll come to me when he’s ready.

Eight

Harlow

When Cal comes by my place after work, he’s nervous again. I see it in the way he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, and how quick he speaks when I ask him how he’s feeling.

“Come on,” I say, taking his hand pulling him back with me into my bedroom. “We’re going to do something a little differently today, okay?”

He nods, and I squeeze his hand to let him know everything’s okay.