Page 63 of Down My Chimney

“Joanna was just telling me the other day how much they missed having you at work,” my mom added, merging onto the freeway. “And I bet you and Blake will have a lot to talk about.”

She smiled, and my stomach dropped, wondering if she knew. But she couldn’t, right? Unless Blake had told them while I was gone. But I couldn’t imagine him doing that.

That didn’t stop me from sweating the whole car ride back to LA, though. This was the first time I was going to talk to Blake since August. The first time I’d have seen him since May. I felt queasy. I knew I needed to talk to him, but I was in no way, shape, or form prepared to do it today.

I was drenched by the time we parked on the Salazars’ street. Their driveway was full, so we parked a few houses away, and my dad slung an arm around my shoulders as we walked up to the house.

“It’s so good to have you back.” He reached up to ruffle my hair.

I smiled, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Maybe Blake wouldn’t be there? I couldn’t decide if that would be good or bad.

Maybe you needed this, whispered a voice in the back of my mind.Because you wouldn’t have done it on your own.

Before I had time to decide whether that was true or not, we were ringing the bell, and the door was opening, and Blake’s family was crowding around us, ushering us into the house. Joanna beamed, exclaiming over how good I looked, and Josué asked if I’d gotten taller while I was gone. Then Blake walked around the corner into the living room, and everything else faded away.

He was all I could see. His gorgeous brown eyes, his sweet, full lips, and a quiet, hopeful smile on his face. His hair was a little longer than it had been in May. He was scruffier, too, like maybe he was trying to grow a beard. Did he look leaner, or just older?

He was wearing a Christmas sweater, bright green with a felt appliqué Rudolph. A little red pompom stuck out from the center of his chest for the nose, and jingle bells dangled off the antlers that reached up to his shoulders. He should have looked ridiculous, but he was breathtaking.

I wanted to drink him in. Wanted to run across the room and throw my arms around him, kiss him, sink to my knees, and apologize right there in front of everyone. Even as his smile faded, replaced with a look of caution, I wanted nothing more than to touch him one more time.

Our parents were still talking, and someone was asking me a question, but it was so hard to think about anything other than Blake, so hard to be aware of anything else in the room. I tore my gaze away, trying to focus on what Josué had just said. Something about my semester abroad.

“Oh, yeah.” I nodded vaguely. “It was great.”

When I looked up again, Blake was gone.

The Salazars pulled us further into their house, which was decked out for the season. A Christmas tree stood in front of the big picture window in the living room, covered in scrolling gold ribbons and bright lights, ornaments dangling off its branches. Bella and Woody came bounding over, each wearing green Christmas sweaters and jingle bells on their collars. Woody’s tail knocked a silver snowflake off the tree, and I darted over to hang it back up.

“I just can’t help myself, Phil,” Joanna was saying to my dad when I rejoined them. “I swore I wasn’t going to be one of those people who dressed their dogs up for holidays, and now look at me. I have three other Christmas outfits for them aside from these. And you don’t even want to see what I’ve got in store for Valentine’s Day.”

I excused myself politely and drifted through the house, just looking for a quiet corner to catch my breath. But I’d barely taken two steps before Josué put a hand on my shoulder.

“Come on,” he said. “I think Blake’s in the dining room.”

He pulled me in that direction, and I couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough to get away. The dining room table was covered in newspapers, and people sat in little clumps up and down its length, building gingerbread houses. The air was thick with powdered sugar and the smell of cinnamon.

My sister, Fliss, and Blake’s sister, Claire, were making an elaborate castle at the near end. I recognized a few of their other friends, plus some of the Salazars’ neighbors, and a couple of their extended family members. But my eyes were drawn to Blake, sitting at the far end of the table, frowning down at a precarious-looking gingerbread lean-to.

“Look who I found!” Josué said, dragging me over to him.

Blake looked up, his eyes going wide. Little spots of color appeared on his cheeks, and he swallowed audibly.

“Actually,” I began, my courage deserting me, “I think I have to—”

“I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on,” Josué said, not letting me finish. He pulled a chair out opposite Blake and pressed down on my shoulders until I sat in it.

I glanced up and caught him giving Blake alook. I didn’t know what the hell that meant, but this was the second time our parents had implied we needed to talk. What was going on?

When Josué moved off, I turned to Blake and blurted out, “Do theyknow?”

He’d been staring at the table, spinning a purple gumdrop around in a circle, but he looked up at that, his eyebrows climbing.

“What? No. No, of course not. I didn’t tell them anything.”

“Then why do they keep insisting we talk to each other?” I asked. “My dad did the same thing in the car over here. It feels like some kind of ambush.”

“It’s not.” Blake shook his head firmly. “I think my dad just wants me to tell you—honestly, it doesn’t matter. They don’t know, don’t worry.”

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