Page 8 of Merry Little Hate Notes

“Do you want some help? I could be your wingman.” Mom nudged me.

My chin lowered to my chest, puzzled. I had no idea my mom even knew what that meant.Momandwingmanare not two words usually used together. “I’ve never needed a wingman before.”

“Yes, I know all the ladies love you, son.” She pinched my cheek. “But Holly isn’t just any woman. She never has been.”

This was true. “Regardless, I don’t need mymommyto be my wingman.”

“All right. But if you change your mind, let me know. I could think of some festive zingers like she used this time of year. I remember when she wrote,You should go elf yourself on the shelf.” Mom busted out laughing. “Or the one where she called you a rebel without a Santa Claus. She was so clever.”

“I thought you said you didn’t read that many notes.”

She shrugged. “Tomayto. Tomahto.”

It was becoming clear my mother knew more than I wanted her to. “Anyway, I don’t think I’ll be writing any more notes. It obviously didn’t work.” I zested the orange with vengeance, feeling frustrated about the situation.

“I don’t know if I’d give up so soon. It’s something that connects the two of you. And honestly, I think both of you could use that connection.”

I dropped the orange. “What do you mean?”

“Well, like you, she hasn’t celebrated Christmas in years. I can’t even get her to come to our annual neighborhood Christmas party or to the house at all.” Mom was obviously distraught about it. “I hate seeing you both like this. You need each other, whether or not it turns into anything romantic. You both lost the person you loved more than anyone in the world. That’s a bond no one can break. Not even you two stubborn kids.”

“I don’t know about that, Mom.” Especially since I was sure Holly blamed me for Christian’s death.

“Well, I do. You help Holly find her Christmas again and I have a feeling that’s where you’ll find yours.”

“How do you help someone find something you’ve also lost?”

Mom’s green eyes lit up like the dozen Christmas trees she would put up on the day after Thanksgiving. “There’s a wonderful magic when you heal someone’s heart. Let that magic guide you. And if you need a wingman, the offer is still on the table.” She laughed.

I grinned, even though there was no way I was going to ask mymom to be my wingman. And I had zero idea how to even begin to heal Holly’s heart—the heart I knew I’d broken. I wasn’t sure there was enough magic in the world for that.

HOLLY

“I SERIOUSLY CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE going to be working with Brandon.” Carmen twisted her head in my direction as we moved into downward facing dog pose in my tiny living room. Dad’s old den furniture from better days filled the cramped space. We’d fit as many of his solid wood bookshelves as we could in the small three-bedroom home Dad and I rented in the older part of Littleton. Everything from first editions of prized literature to books about ancient cultures filled the shelves, making the room feel even smaller.

Carmen and I did yoga here at least three times a week. She was a yoga instructor, and this was her way of helping me de-stress and clear my mind. After every session we would pretend like it was 2009 and dance to “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)” while inhaling brownies. Best stress relief around. It might also be the reason no one was putting a ring on it. Or, you know, because I’d had zero time to even think about a relationship. Regardless, Carmen Garcia was the best friend a girl could ask for. When everyone else seemed to bail on me after my cruel twist of fate, she’d held on tight and never let go.

With blood rushing to my brain and my messy bun falling out, I turned my head to face her gorgeousness. I envied her golden-brown skin and long wavy black hair. My pale skin looked like a cross between a malnourished peasant who never saw the sun and afrequent vampire blood donor. “I know,” I moaned. Now that I’d thought about it for a few hours, I wasn’t sure the potential money was worth it. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hide in the bathroom the entire time.”

She giggled. “I can’t believe you even consider that an option. Get ready to lunge. Raise your right leg. Stretch, stretch. Now bring it in and kiss the knee, then bring it forward.”

I maneuvered as gracefully as I could. Thankfully, I was pretty flexible and had good core strength. “I’d clean the bathroom at this rate if it meant not seeing him.”

“So he’s still pretty, huh?”

“So freaking pretty.” I lengthened my arms out to match Carmen and looked over my left fingertips, thinking of Brandon’s perfect face. Ugh. He made me want to buy stacks of sticky note pads and barrage him with hate notes. But I was trying to be mature about it ... said the woman willing to hide in the bathroom. In my defense, I needed to catch up on the office gossip. I was dying to know how Amy and Rita handled Joel from IT once they’d figured out he was dating them both. Or whether Jane ever solved the mystery of who kept stealing just one piece of every puzzle placed in the common areas to help employees relax. She was on a mission to hunt down the culprit. These were things I could only learn in the bathroom for some reason.

“And he’s okay with this partnership?” Carmen asked.

“Oddly, he seems to be, but I know it’s just an act. He has something up his sleeve; I can feel it.” That little hate note had said it all.

“Like what?”

“I have no idea. I thought he’d tortured me enough in high school. Guess he’s back for round two.” Although I wasn’t sure what could be more humiliating and hurtful than making me believe he returned the feelings I had for him. He’d given an Academy Award winning performance, and I’d fallen for it. Hard. No guy at eighteen should know how to kiss that well. My foot hadn’t popped since, and there was something so wrong about that. Worse, sometimes my mind would replay his whisper: “You’re beautiful, Holly.” He had no idea how badly I’d wanted to believe him. And I had for an entire night, only to wake up and find my dream was actually a nightmare.

I lost more than just the boy I loved. I lost one of my best friends, even if, unbeknownst to me, he’d been a fake friend. He’d been a constant for half my life at that point. Sadly, it was just the beginning of things I would lose.

“Didn’t you say he was giving you half his commissions? That’s a big deal, right?”

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