Page 26 of Havoc for the Holidays

“Morning, Marcy.”

“That'll be eleven eighty-eight.”

I fumbled my wallet from my coat pocket and reluctantly pulled my EBT card from inside. I hated using the card despite how much it helped. I knew there wasn't inherently any shame in needing financial assistance, but that didn't make it any easier to not feel ashamed. I slid it through the reader and avoided eye contact.

“Sorry… you might have to try it again.” The cashier slid a slip of receipt paper over the counter. According to the printout, I had nine dollars and change left. I mumbled an apology and dug through my wallet again. There was no way I was splitting the balance between two cards, so I pulled out my last twenty and handed it over. Of course, I was blushing the entire time.

“Happy holidays, Ollie.” She smiled and held out my change. It took all my courage to make eye contact and return the well wishes before I grabbed my things and tried not to bolt for the door. The fact that I was proud of myself for departing at a calm pace was a pretty good indication of where my mood was at.

The sidewalk outside the store was surprisingly busy as I exited, forcing me to sidestep and apologize. My nerves instantly skyrocketed. It was the PTA moms. I tried to avoid them at all costs. They tried to recruit me to their organization just asintently. The fact that they were all closer to my mother’s age than mine had always left me feeling intensely uncomfortable. Hell, one of them had a child who was in my graduating class. Talk about awkward.

“Good morning, Oliver!”

“Morning, Ollie!”

“Oh, Ol! Will we see you at the party later?”

“Um, hello. Hi. Yes.” I reluctantly stopped so as not to be rude.

“I'm looking forward to the showcase.”

“Missy told me you're quite…commanding on stage.”

“And Ezechiel… woooo, you're a lucky man. He's so attractive! I'm jealous, Oliver.”

“Oh. Right.” I darted my eyes toward my car as my respiratory rate increased beyond a comfortable level. “Um. Happy holidays? I have to… I have to go.”

“Aww! Be well, Ollie.”

“We’llseeyou soon.”

“Merry Christmas!”

This time, there was no calm and collected departure. In true cowardly fashion, I took off at a jog that became a full-tilt until I was able to throw myself into the driver's seat and dump my items beside me. I could barely breathe. My hands shook like the last of the leaves clinging to the trees in a stiff winter wind. It was all entirely too much and something, anything, had to give. Like the coward I was deep down inside, I did the only conceivable thing—I pulled out my cell phone and sent a cowardly text to the poor man I had been ignoring for days.

Ollie: Hi. I'm sorry. I can't dance in the showcase. Please don't hate me.

Despite the fact that tears blurred my vision, I made it home unscathed and quickly retreated to the sanctuary of my small apartment. I ignored the repeated buzzing of my phone on the counter as I made the saddest Christmas cupcakes of my life.Even the red and green sprinkles did little to lift my spirits. Happy holidays, indeed. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that I'd ruined the most wonderful time of the year. It was the story of my life, after all.

Chapter sixteen

Ezechiel

Ireread the text message on my screen five times in a row and still couldn't believe what I was seeing. The mixture of emotions swirling through my mind were too numerous to list, but the predominant ones were anger and frustration. Rationally, I knew he had to have a very good reason for canceling at the last minute, but I wasn't yet at a place where rationality was easy. No, my gut reaction was that I was pissed off. Finally deciding that what I was reading was in fact the truth,I scoffed and tossed my phone into the blankets pooled around my legs and flopped backward with a dramatic grunt.

I laid like that for another fifteen minutes as my thoughts swirled in panic mode. My chief worry was the showcase, but I couldn't help but be concerned about what had prompted his decision. In all likelihood, it was a mix of different things. My instincts told me I could likely find the answer among the gossip of the town, but that felt too invasive. Hell, all the noise around town was already invasive enough. I didn't need to take advantage of it or fan the flames any higher asking around.

Once I dragged myself out of bed, I tried calling Ollie directly. While I wasn't surprised that he refused to answer, I still found myself growing even more frustrated with each and every call, text, and voicemail that went ignored. I wanted to smack him silly and then kiss him stupid, but neither of those options were likely the best choice when it came to the shy redhead who dominated most of my waking thoughts and all of my nightly dreams. I had to meet him where he was at, but that was going to necessitate some planning.

My pacing came to an abrupt halt as I recalled Mom’s advice. The lightbulb in my head lit up as I scrolled through my contacts and found the name I was looking for. My smile was downright devious as I pushed the call button and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Lincoln, hi. This is a huge ask, but I need your help. Can you do me a favor?”

“Okay… maybe. It depends.”

“I have a feeling Oliver won't be coming to the studio this afternoon, which means he’ll be asking you to drop Becs off. Can you offer to keep her for a little while afterward? I just need an hour.”

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