Page 38 of Christmas Criminal

I take a long breath, running my hands over my face as I step out of the way of one of my students who's balancing three cups of hot chocolate in his hands. He raises his eyebrows at me as he passes, as if to ask what I'm doing standing around, and I take a step toward the front of the line to take the next customer.

"Oh for–"

I stop myself before an expletive slips out.

First Delia, now Noelle. Two opposites of the same spectrum.

Delia, who I refuse to touch with a ten-foot pole, and Noelle, who I can only barely manage tonottouch despite putting every barrier I can think of between us.

She raises her eyebrows, pressing her hands against the table between us and leaning toward me. "Did I nearly catch Mr. Monroe dropping an f-bomb?"

"No," I tell her flatly, eyeing an older woman with frizzy brown hair and nearly identical facial features behind her, and a blonde woman balanced on a scooter that looks closer to Noelle's age. Mom and sister, if I had to guess.

"Oh, is this the math teacher?" the blonde woman asks, scooting forward and nudging Noelle out of the way. "I'm Christina!" she says, holding her hand out to greet me. I shake it gently while one of the mathletes drops off a few cups of hot chocolate between us. "Noelle's told me so much about you!"

I raise my eyebrows as Noelle's cheeks turn pink. "Have you, now?"

"I mean, only the basics," she says, rolling her eyes. "Like, the fact that you're a math teacher. And I do community service with you."

"And that you look like Superman," Christina says.

"Idid not say that," Noelle bites back. "Momsaid that."

The older woman shrugs, taking a step forward to shake my hand too. "I'm Helen. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," I say.

And then fuckingDeliapops up again.

"Nicky, honey, can you grab me two hot chocolates?"

My jaw ticks as I watch Noelle's face. Her eyes flash wide, and one eyebrow pops up as she turns to get a glimpse of the woman who took it upon herself to call meNicky.

Excuse me while I barf.

"Nicky?" Noelle asks, her voice low.

"You call me that, I'll make sure you have enough community service that you can never leave this–what do you call it?–godforsaken town," I mutter to her, and her mouth pops open, a grin spreading across her face.

I ignore Delia, instead turning to the people waiting on Noelle'sotherside and passing out one cup after another.

"Youhateher," Noelle says under her breath, leaning across the table between us.

I press my lips together, and that seems to be all the confirmation Noelle needs.

I hand her a cup of hot chocolate that she passes to her mom. "Oh, I can't wait to hear this story."

I shake my head. "No story."

I pass along the second cup, which she hands to her sister, and another for her, but she waves me off. "I can't. Too much sugar." And she raises an eyebrow as I pass it off to someone else in line. "Come on, tell me the story."

"There really isn't one."

She nods. "Well, I'm not sure she's gotten the memo."

"Despite my best efforts."

"Want me to spill a hot chocolate on her?"

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