Page 143 of The Overtime Kiss

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MEOWY FRIENDSMAS

Sabrina

Tiffany barely says hello when she arrives at the rink for her lesson on a Sunday afternoon. “I want to learn the bunny hop,” she declares as she hangs over the boards, waving her phone at me, cued up to YouTube. “Look!”

I know both how to do a bunny hop and teach it, but still, I skate over to her to watch the video she’s tracked down. A minute later, her mother catches up. She’s a few paces behind Tiffany since it’s hard to keep up with the busy girl.

“That’s an intermediate move but we can work toward that,” I tell my student. “How does that sound?”

Tiffany sighs, like she’s so put out, but then she nods excitedly. “Yes, please!” She peers at the video again. “Wait. Mom, that’syouraccount on my phone. Were you watching YouTube on my phone? Last time you watched all those Ukrainian TV shows.” Tiffany doesn’t sound accusatory so much as curious.

Her mom gives a small, proud shrug. “They remind me of home.”

And I think I know what’s going on here. “Ms. Kovalenko. Do you want to take a lesson someday?”

“Mom! Do it, do it, do it,” Tiffany encourages.

“Perhaps,” her mom says, and it feels like she’s one step closer than the last time she saidmaybe.

I seize the chance: “I’d love to put together some intro moves just for you. Think about it.”

“I am,” she says.

And I hold on to that bit of progress as I teach her daughter some backward wiggles, then spend the rest of the afternoon with other students.

That evening I’m exhausted from coaching all day, but it’s a good kind of exhausted. Mostly, I’m energized at the thought of seeing my friends tonight since it’s time for Friendsmas. Isla, Miss Christmas herself, is hosting at her house.

After I tug on a thrifted Christmas sweater—it has a gold sequined cat wearing a red scarf with actual jingle bells and the wordsMeowy Christmasunder the animal—I head to her home.

The kids are with Elle, but I’ll pick them up bright and early tomorrow for the flight across the country.

No need for them to fly as unaccompanied minors since I’ll be with them now—Tyler worked with Elle to rebook all the tickets, and since he played in Montreal the other night, we’ll meet him in the city tomorrow. But I put the trip out of my mind as I knock on Isla’s door. She swings it open, and a sonic blast of Sia’s “Candy Cane Lane” hits me.

“And aMeowy Christmasto you too,” she sings, then hustles me inside. “Also, excellent work on the ugly sweater.”

“I take issue with the wordugly.I think this is quite fabulous,” I say, flicking a bell a few times, adding a little tinkling harmony to the soundtrack.

“Wear it in June, then,” Trevyn shouts from the living room as he scratches Barbara-dor behind her reindeer ears.

“Um, June is hot.”

“Not in San Francisco,” Leighton calls out as she sets a tray of mixed nuts on the table.

Maeve swoops in from the kitchen. “Did someone say mixed nuts?”

She grabs a couple and pops them in her mouth, and I set the gifts on the table, then hug everyone.

Skylar’s here too, and so are Everly and Josie—they wave from the kitchen as they mix drinks. Spiked hot cocoa, I think.

Or really, I hope.

Soon, we’re all huddled in Isla’s living room, the lights of the tree twinkling, laughing and toasting to the holidays.

When Isla snaps her gaze to me with a pointed look, I know I’m about to get a friendly grilling. “So, word on the street is you’re ditching us for the hot boss you have a sex diary with.”

I blush. I mean, they all know what’s going on, but still, I’m not sure anything’s going to happen with Tyler in New York. Nothinghashappened for a while anyway, with his travel and me getting sick and our…argument?

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