Page 23 of Oh No, My Best Friend Hates Christmas!

His eyes crease with barely contained mirth. His lips quirk up a whole centimeter onboth sides. I groan.

“Okay, well, I’m just going to go and die now. Enjoy your bathroom time!”

He snorts as I walk past him to my room, then enters the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him.

I sigh, cringe, then attempt to shake it off. So I embarrassed myself, so what? Everyone embarrasses themselves sometimes. There’s no use being dramatic about it. Best to just move on. There’s nothing I can do about it now anyway, even if I wanted to.

Except die.

I glance at my window, doing quick math to discover that the jump would not, in fact, kill me. Maim me, maybe.

Bother.

In the absence of a decently high ledge, I approach my dresser and grab the first pair of socks I can find – an oversized fuzzy pair with pink and green polka dots. I hesitate, then pick out a second, plain white pair as well.

I hit up my pants drawer next, choosing my favorite pair of sweatpants. They’re black and cozy soft on the inside. They used to belong to Bazzy, until I pilfered them from him. I had to cutthe bottoms of the legs off to make them fit, and even with that, I still have to roll the waistband several times if I don’t want them sliding right off of me.

I opt to keep Baz’s shirt that I slept in on and add the new warmth to my outfit. Oversized warm homeless person chic is the goal.

Once my lower half is adequately decked out in cold weather survival gear, I wander my way back to Bazzy’s room. His door is open, so I don’t bother knocking.

I find him lying in his bed, and I notice he’s put on a hooded sweatshirt – an excellent idea.

I pick one out from his closet and throw it on over the shirt that I’m wearing, then I twirl in circles.

“Look, Bazzy! I’m you!” I laugh, spinning my way toward the bed and crashing into it. I look at him.

An eyebrow raises. A devious little lip twitch.

No, you’re not, his eyes say.You’re you – the woman who eats rabbit trails for breakfast.

I scowl at his stupid, smirky face.

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to jump off the roof.”

Hot chocolate eyes roll.

Yeah, right.

My Christmas tree green eyes narrow in his direction.

“Don’t ruin my day when it’s barely begun, Basil Parker Cole. We are having agood daytoday. We are doing Christmas things. We are punishing Archie. We arenotruining it with any silly nonsense. Capiche?”

I glare at him.

His eyes sparkle with levity, matching the shine of the ring in his nose.

The North Star don’t got nothin’ on this boy.

He reaches across the bed to put a warm, rough hand on my face. His starry eyes soften, and his thumb caresses my cheek.

Okay, Heidi. I won’t ruin your day.

I close my eyes and lean into his hand, allowing myself a moment to enjoy the feel of his calluses on my skin.

My moment over, I pull away.

“Good!” I exclaim, then bounce out of the bed. “Off we pop then! There’s Christmas cheer to be had – and a little brat to put to work.”

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