Page 52 of Holiday Hostilities

AARON

December

Early December brings a couple of hard losses for the Cyclones, but then back-to-back much-needed wins on the road—followed by a tie game with the D.C. Eagles on home ice.

It also brings colder weather, and approximately eighty million Christmas lights.

The entire city is aglow, lit up and festive, and I’m totally into it. Atlanta might not be as traditionally ‘Christmassy’ as my hometown up north, where you’re pretty much guaranteed a white Christmas, but it’s still a great place to be for the holidays. There’s something about carols on the radio, and cheerfully decorated storefronts, and Triple J arriving at practice every day wearing a different ugly holiday-themed sweater that makes things feel generally happy.

We’re winning more games, Olivia’s coming to the gala to outbid Brandi, and the holidays are upon us. A combination that makes me feel like everything might be okay.

And that’s the thought I cling to as I hold on for dear life to my grab handle in Dallas’s Ford F150. I’m riding shotgun andam terrified as my teammate takes the gravel roads at breakneck speed. It’s an almost ridiculous contrast to the cheerful, uplifting sounds of “Christmas Tree Farm” by Taylor Swift blasting through the truck’s speakers.

It was a Jimmy recommendation to “get us in the Christmas spirit for the day ahead.” And surprisingly, for the first time ever, Dallas agreed with him.

Despite the literal roller coaster we appear to be on, Jimmy is singing along from the middle of the backseat. He’s flanked by Seb and Jake, the latter looking less than impressed with the current choice of music and/or style of driving.

The truck hits another pothole—Dallas doesn’t even flinch—and I have a sudden fatherly urge to turn around and ask the guys in the back if they’re feeling carsick.

“How much further, Cooper?” I ask as I roll up the sleeves on my flannel shirt.

He lifts a shoulder. “‘Bout a half hour.”

“Great,” Jake mutters thickly.

“Baby, baby, Merry Christmasssss,” Jimmy sings.

Seb rubs his temples. “Whose idea was this again?”

“Mine.” I have to laugh. “Sorry, man.”

When Dallas randomly mentioned at practice this morning that his family owned a Christmas tree farm two hours out of the city, it caused a bit of an uproar. Apparently, our roguish teammate has been holding out on us about his most wholesome of upbringings. In fact, he made the place sound utterly idyllic.

After a lot of team teasing and ribbing about Dallas’s newly discovered soft side, I suggested we take a trip out there. Seb and Jimmy were up for it, and I dragged Jake along.

A “nice, peaceful drive down some country roads” (as Dallas described it) sounded like the perfect way to spend my afternoon. I need a Christmas tree for my living room anyway, and we might as well support the Cooper family business.

Plus, I was happy to distract myself from the nervous energy gathering in my body…

Later today, Olivia will be moving in with me.

“As terrible as Cooper’s driving is, I’m kind of stoked,” Seb says with a smile. “Christmas is my new favorite holiday, and Maddie’s excited for a real pine tree.”

“My driving is spectacular, Slater.” Dallas turns to peer at Seb from over the top of his sunglasses. “And I’ll have you know that you’re gonna get there in record time, thanks to my superior skills behind the wheel.”

As he says this, we hit another huge pothole, and Jake groans as he whacks his head on the window. “Watch the road, you idiot. I’d like to get to the farm alive, if that’s okay with you and yoursuperiordriving.”

“Play nice, Griz,” I interject in my best ‘captain’ voice.

“I could drive this road in my sleep,” Dallas replies lazily as he drapes an arm over the steering wheel. “Speaking of sleep, I got very little last night.”

“TMI,” Jake grumbles.

“Actually, it’s not. I met a gorgeous brunette at a party and we stayed up late talking.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I smirk.

He shakes his head. “I swear, it was entirely innocent.”

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