Page 42 of Christmas Criminal

Maybe.

But he desperately needed a way out of that booth, and I desperately needed some way to ensure my mom and sister didn't come and force me into a conversation with him.

He's here with hisnewfamily. He doesn't want anything to do with the old one.

So I tug Nick along, spying the parent who so shamelessly threw herself at him and beelining in the opposite direction.

"I probably should help the mathletes. It's kind of busy," he says, glancing over his shoulder.

"You were more in their way than you were helping them," I say, waving him off.

His brow crinkles. "That's not true. And they do technically need a faculty member present to call it a school fundraiser."

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Nick, they're a bunch of mathletes. They're not going to get in trouble. Besides, while youwere standing there talking tome, I caught at least three of them giving you dirty looks because you were holding up the line."

"Really? Oh man, I didn't realize I was in the way."

I slip my hand into his elbow, patting his arm. "It's okay, Mr. Monroe. One day we all become obsolete. You had a good run, but now you have to let your mathletes carry on without you."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not that overbearing."

I shrug. "Wasn't saying you were."

He's quiet for a second, and I look up at him. His eyes catch mine, and I get that flustered feeling you get when somebody looks at you a little deeper than surface level. Like by looking into your eyes, they can see everything that's going on in your mind.

"Thanks for saving me," he says.

I squeeze his elbow, the closest I can get to hugging him without actually hugging him. "You're welcome." I let out a long breath. "To be fair, you saved me too."

"Still not talking to your dad?"

I shake my head.

"I'm honestly kind of surprised you're not rubbing it in his face. Like, 'look what I did because you're such a jerk, Dad,'" he mocks.

I roll my eyes. "I don't know. I feel like it's not worth it. Christina forgives him for anything because she has some insane notion that being family means you always forgive each other. My mom goes along with it to make her happy, even though I know he makes her stomach churn. But me? I spent high school in hell and I don't feel like going back there. I don't spend a single moment of my life dealing with anyone who makes me feel less than. If Christina wants to give and give and give, and that makes her happy, then I will support her. But I'll do so from a distance." I shrug. "And if I'm being totally honest, I can counton one hand the times he's made a real effort. And I don't forgive that quickly."

Nick nods, squeezing my hand in his elbow. "Good for you," he says, giving me a quick nod. Not encouraging me to include him in family events becauseit's Christmas, like my sister. Not telling me it's water under the bridge. Not pointing out that he's learned his lesson–look how good a dad he is to his twonewlittle girls.

"Thanks for not pushing me to ignore my feelings for the sake of the holiday," I say.

He shrugs. "Thanks for telling me." He's quiet for a second. "Maybe you should tell him, too."

I look up at him, desperate to know what's going on behind those brown eyes. He hasn't shrugged away from my touch or insisted on going back to his booth. He's walking with me... like a friend. One that I kind of want to see naked.

"Tell my dad that he's a big jerk face?"

"Maybe not in those exact words, but… it might be healing for you. I know you said the egg-throwing was a result of finally breaking, but maybe bynottalking about things, you're holding tension that you can let go of in perhaps a less criminal way?"

"Is this your attempt to guard against recidivism?"

He rolls his eyes, laughing. "No. I'm just thinking about that little story you told me about eating lunch in the library. Talking about it didn't change the experience, but I got the feeling you were able to find some peace with it. Maybe telling your dad what's what, instead of egging his house, can do the same thing."

I purse my lips. "Maybe. But then I'd have totalkto him."

He nods. "Yes, you would have to talk to him. But sometimes speaking your truth can give you some relief. No need to hide under tables anymore because talking to him no longer equates to hiding your feelings. And who knows, maybe some accountability would be good for him."

I scoff. "Yeah, I don't think he's listened to a word I've said in my life."