Page 70 of Cross Check Christmas
"Twenty-three!" Janet announces. "Colette, your turn!"
Rising on shaky legs, I survey the remaining wrapped packages and the opened gifts clutched possessively in my colleagues' laps. The firefighter calendar catches my eye - not because I want it, but because choosing it would take it off his hands so he can get a better gift.
I march over to where Hendrix sits, his broad shoulders tense as he clutches the firefighter calendar. He won't meet my eyes, staring instead at the floor.
Several teachers lean forward in their seats, watching us with poorly concealed interest.
"I'll take that." I hold out my hand, palm up.
"Really?" His voice has an edge I've never heard before. "What do you want with pictures of shirtless firemen?"
The room goes quiet except for a few whispers. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Chen slip a twenty to Janet.
"Maybe I like firefighters," I say, keeping my tone light despite the sudden thickness in my throat.
"Since when?"
"Since now. Hand it over."
More rustling, more whispers. Mrs. Abernathy from the math department gets up and slaps a bill into the custodian’s waiting hand. I catch a triumphant grin on his face.
Hendrix's jaw tightens as he hands over the calendar. "Here. Hope you enjoy the view."
He gets up and collects up a small gift bag from the dwindling pile.
As I return to my seat, clutching my stolen prize, I notice more money changing hands. Ms. Thompson passes a folded bill to Coach Knight. The school counselor collects what looks like a stack of ones from the chemistry teacher.
"What's going on?" I whisper to the librarian sitting next to me. "Did I miss some kind of faculty-wide gambling email?"
The librarian shifts uncomfortably in her chair, suddenly very interested in the ceramic penguin she won during her turn.
"Mrs. Larson?" I press, keeping my voice low. "What's with all the money changing hands?"
She adjusts her glasses, refusing to meet my eyes. "Oh, it's nothing really..."
"Margaret." I use my teacher voice, the one that makes freshmen squirm in their seats. "I've covered your library duties three times this semester when you had migraines. You owe me."
She sighs, glancing around before leaning in close. "There's this bet going around town. Between Hendrix and Tucker from the coffee shop."
My stomach drops. "What kind of bet?"
"Tucker bet his vintage Star Wars poster against Hendrix's collectable Boba Fett figure that Hendrix couldn't get you to go on a real date and kiss him under the mistletoe by ChristmasEve." She wrings her hands. "The whole town's been placing side bets for weeks."
The room spins slightly as her words sink in. All those moments - the decorations in my classroom, the dance, the skating - were just part of some juvenile game?
"The whole town knows about this?" My voice comes out as a whisper.
Margaret nods miserably. "I thought you knew, to be honest. I mean, you've been so resistant to his charm, I figured you were playing hard to get on purpose. Mrs. Abernathy doesn't think so, though."
The firefighter calendar slips from my fingers, landing with a soft thud on the floor.
"So you're telling me that Tucker and Hendrix made a bet about my life. For some nerdy sci-fi crap?"
"In a nutshell, dear, yes."
I watch Hendrix across the room, laughing at something Wade just said. Everything makes sense now—his sudden return to town, his persistent attention, that kiss in the snow.
I was just a prize to be won in a stupid bet. Just like high school. I was right all along. His friends dared him to dance with the bookworm. To kiss the girl who'd never been kissed.
