Page 9 of Holiday Power Play

Ms. Grinch-i-pants will be joining the mountain crew party too. And since we didn’t exactly leave off on the best terms last night–considering the whole her car being impounded situation–I don’t anticipate she’ll be in a good mood when she sees me.

But what do I know? It’s Christmas, and there is such a thing as miracles. At least for my sake I’d like to hope that there is. Plus, I guess I can be the bigger person and apologize.

I’ll consider it.

“Hey,” Mick's voice fills the car. “Yeah that’s me. You were supposed to be up. Please tell me you packed.”

I watch a light come on in the upstairs window of her townhome. A room that seems to share a wall with my own. I wonder if she can hear me at all. I don’t recall ever hearing her.

Mick tells her to hurry up or he’s leaving her and hangs up.

“What’d the little grinch say when you told her I was coming?” I yawn out.

“Uh… she… well she…” Mick pops the trunk open and opens the door to leave.

“Mick?” I call out to him as he shuts the door. “You told her right?” I call out louder so he can hear me.

He smirks and walks off.

Great. She doesn’t know. She’s going to take one look at me and banish me from the car.

The light turns off in the room upstairs and another comes on that lights up the window on the front door.

She doesn't have any Christmas lights or wreathes decorating her house. To be fair, I don’t either.

But on her side there are dead plants that need to be replaced and an overgrown bush that is creeping its way to the front door, making her place not only not welcoming but a little creepy.

It’s very on brand for what I’ve already come to know about my friend’s moody sister.

The front door opens and she rolls her luggage down the pathway, absentmindedly looking down at her phone. Her thick brown curls crown her face in a halo.

That face.

Her skin is much lighter than her brother’s and she has a splash of freckles across her nose. And unlike her brother’s green eyes, she has chocolate eyes with an exotic almond shape that makes her overall look just–captivating.

But I’m not seeing all these details right now. I just know from the initial sight of her last night that is what I can expect.

She rolls her suitcase all the way down the sidewalk, dragging a big garment bag along with her.

Deep breath. Here we go.

Chapter 3

Lana

The air is much cooler this morning than it has been all month. Christmas is in the air.

Awesome.

I'm not normally this moody. But after my jackass of a neighbor pulled his little car stunt last night–it didn’t exactly put me in the Christmas spirit.

It does however, put me in the spirit to break a bunch of shit. If only I didn't have to sell or pawn everything off just to keep afloat this month.

Which is why as I'm taking a step at a time with my luggage with one arm, I'm also hauling the giant waste of space that's been sitting in my closet in the other arm.

I don't exactly know why I waited this long to get rid of the dress. I spent plenty of wine drunk nights crying, watching cringey rom-coms and occasionally looking at it hanging there from my closet door—a stinging reminder that I wouldn't be the girl that gets the happy ending.

Not for now. And honestly, maybe not ever.

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