Page 11 of Love Letters to Christmas

Moments of kindness and compliments mean nothing.

And I can’t treat them like something.

Because Iknowbetter.

I have watched countless girls think Brian’s Brianness means something only to see their confessions go up in flames as Brian apologized. I don’t think I’d be able to survive it if I were the one confessing and had to watch Brian’s usual smile drift off his face before his eyes widened and he just…awkwardly explained how he never meant to imply he was interested.

Natural-born lady decimator, that’s Brian Single.

Innocent to an impeccable degree…that’s Brian Single.

His mischief has never before been the type that fools with people’s feelings. Becausemailisfeelings, and he’d not disrespect the post like that.

“Ha,” he says, already well past telling me I should say his name more as he picks up a large patriotic gnome in a very tall American flag top hat. “Look.” He shows me. “So cute.” He waves the spindly arms on the bearded fella, oblivious that my self-esteem has dropped below sea level. “He can hug our mailbox. I think this fabric is water-resistant.” Preciously, Briansits the gnome in the child seat, strapping it in with the seatbelt. “I need a matching top hat.” He pulls his phone out. “You need one, too, A-mail-ia.”

I’m not sure top hats are my style…or that I want to look like a tiny man with a beard as long as his body.

I’m cute… Brian thinks I’m cute… Just like a gnome… Is this…colon, apostrophe, end parenthesis? Because. Yeah. That’s where I am emotionally at the moment.

Amid searching for tophats, Brian freezes, looks at me, looks back at his phone. His eyes flick between me and the device for a long moment. “Huh.”

I am afraid to prompt further words, but I dare to echo, “Huh?”

“I fell in a rabbit hole.” He shows me his phone screen, which is depicting a several hundred dollar steampunk dress with a cog-decorated top hat, asymmetrical and layered waterfall skirt, and a leather corset. “There’s a ren faire coming up in May.”

I blink.

“We should go together.”

My heart launches itself into my uvula. Together? As intogether, together? Like right now? When we are shoppingtogether? My lashes flutter.

“And you should wear this.” He pulls his phone back and taps a few things. “I’m ordering it so you can try it on. If you don’t like it, we’ll send it back. I’ll get something that matches, so we can twin.” Joy overwhelms him, shining in his every cell. “There’s a size chart in inches.” He presents his phone to me again. “What looks right?”

Right about now? A hole. A hole for me to hide in looks right. Meekly, I say, “This is…over three hundred dollars.”

“I’m getting it for you. Don’t worry.”

That does not assuage my worries, but I still give in and say, “S-small. According to that chart, I’m a small.”

Brian’s green eyes glitter as his brows lift. He scans me, smiling, then nods and proceeds to check out. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

“It sounds like things are going great,” Ceres says, as though I’m not having a minor breakdown, on the floor, in the crevice between my bed and the wall, on video call. “Going to a ren faire this weekend is an adorable date plan. Get me pictures if any hot guys are dressed like dark fairies please.”

Beyond Ceres, on her couch, Mars states, “Donotdo that.”

“I need it for research, for my clients,” Ceres offers, as though that will change Mars’s opinion.

His scrunched nose and frown informs me it doesnot.

My entire being droops, and I miss the days when Ceres and Mars weren’t together all the time. Their love borders toxic in a way that is both concerning and beautiful. It’s hard to explain, but I am glad she seems happier when he’s around. I just wish he wasn’t a part of quite so many girl talks.

Flopped, I pout at my phone. “If I see any dark fairies, I will send pictures to Mars, so he can dress up in your preferred archetype.”

Mars’s frown turns into a smile as he flicks a playing card into something outside the video angle.

Ceres rolls her eyes. “He’s not tall enough to be a dark fairy.”

“I’ll wear heels.”

---