Page 27 of Christmas Criminal

"I don't have a problem with it now. But it does feel a little disingenuous sometimes. Like, we're adults. We don't believe in Santa. We work and buy ourselves something if we want it. So it seems like a whole lot of fanfare for... nothing. And you kind of have to pretend like it's this magical time of year."

He nods. "I think a lot of people feel like that around the holidays. I think you should think of Christmas in whatever way it works for you. If it's a chance to spend time with lovedones, maybe that's all it has to be. They can do their silly little traditions, and you can enjoy spending time with them."

He leans against the concrete wall along one edge of the stairs, his hands still in his pockets. He looks so easygoing, with a light breeze ruffling his hair.

"Is that what you do?" I ask. "Use it as an excuse to spend time with your family?"

He clears his throat, one hand running through his hair and his eyes darting away from mine.

And at that moment, a car careens into the parking lot, music blasting. It pulls up right next to us, and Robbie stumbles out, giving us a tense smile in lieu of a greeting. He waves over his shoulder as the car drives away.

"Hey, Robbie," Nick says.

Robbie only nods, and Nick's head cocks to the side so subtly that I doubt I would have noticed it if I hadn't been studying the curve of his jaw.

"Ready?" Nick asks, his eyes snapping to each of us in turn.

"Ready," I confirm.

Robbie nods and turns to lead us over to the town square.

I catch Nick's eye as he follows, and he gives me a look that I can't quite decipher.

I tug on his arm, leaning close. "I thought you said Robbie was having agoodday," I say, not at all immune to the rock hard forearm in my palm. I have to stop myself from squeezing it, from wrapping both hands around it and rubbing.

Because the man has somesexyforearms. Strong, with a few nice veins running through. A dusting of the right amount of hair along the top.

"Hewas. I hope everything is alright," he mutters, his eyes glued to Robbie.

I let out a breath. "I guess we'll see."

6

NICK

Friday, December 6th

I'm not a fan of moody Robbie.

Mostly because he's prone to outbursts if he's upset, because no one in his life will let him vent. He's been taught that the way to deal with big feelings is by keeping them balled up inside until they get so big they spew out in every direction and all anyone can really do is run for cover.

Not that his outbursts are all that bad. The other day when he decided to spew Coke all over my classroom was an outburst–one that I never got to the bottom of because I have twenty other kids to take care of, too.

But I wouldn't be surprised if it was related.

Noelle picks up on the shift in mood immediately. Something tells me she identifies with Robbie a little more than I might.

I had my share of rough times in high school, as anyone does, but Noelle left because she was bullied.

"So how was school today?" Noelle asks. When I glance over at her, she only shrugs.

"Fine," he huffs. He's leading the way to the town square, his shoulders hunched against the cold.

"You seemed like you were having a pretty good day after lunch," I say.

He shrugs. "Things change."

I don't mean to catch Noelle's eye, but I do. Her brow furrows.

---