Page 54 of One Killer Night
“But Mommy, how will Santa get inside? We don’t have a chimney. And everyone at school says he comes through the chimney.”
She lets out a sigh and crouches down so we’re on the same level, rubbing my small shoulders.
“Noah. There are monsters in the world. Scary monsters. And if you unlock that door, they will come and get us, baby. Promise Mommy you’ll never unlock the doors again.”
Tears spring from my eyes, but before she can grab me, I run. I run as fast as I can to my room and throw myself onto my bed, face down.
“Santa won’t come. He’ll never come. I hate those stupid locks.”
I feel her hand on my back, rubbing small circles. “Hey ... hey, now. Don’t say bad words. There’s no need to cry, little love. You didn’t let me finish. Your friends are wrong. They’ve never heard of the magic of Santa.”
I sniffle, still face down but listening.
“He doesn’t need a chimney. That’s just a story. He can turn himself into sparkle and dust to get through the cracks.”
“Nuh-uh,” I mumble.
“Yes huh,” she pushes back. “I even have proof.” I lift my head as she continues. “I happen to know that for the best little boys and girls, he leaves a present out early.”
My eyes grow wide while I listen on bated breath as I sit up. She winks at me. I try and do it back, both my eyes closing.
“I bet if you checked your stocking ...” she says, drying my eyes with her fingers.
That’s all it takes for me to scramble off the bed and tear into our small living room, right to the long green secondhand stocking I got from a yard sale last year.
I reach inside, feeling my heart almost explode as I smile from ear to ear.
“I got one. I got one.”
My mom’s standing in the door, watching me with that sad look on her face that never goes away.
“See, baby? There’s magic all around. And one day, maybe you’ll even be free of those locks and live a beautiful life.”
Everyone’s on their feet in Goldie’s living room with hats on their heads and party horns in their hands, yelling at the television as the ball in Times Square gets lower and lower.Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.
Goldie’s hand finds mine, her smile wide as she looks up at me. I feel like I could die today, and nothing would beat this moment.Six. Five.
Everything I want to say to her begins to bubble to the surface, and I can’t even count as I look down at her, feeling my chest rise and fall faster.Four. Three.
I turn and face her.Two.My hands cradle her face.One.
“Happy New Year!” rings out, along with everyone’s silly words:Pewter.Arachnoid.Moist. Everyone groans as they look at Evie, but I pull Goldie’s face to mine, our lips almost touching.
“Noah,” she says quietly, making my name her word, but I say the only thing I can’t hold in anymore.
“Goldie ... I love you too.”
Chapter Eleven
Camp Weonoke—years prior
“Somebody could hear us.”
Davis’s hands roamed over Sonny’s chest as the two hid behind an unused shed.
“Nobody will hear us. Now, will ya just kiss me again? I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day.”
She laughed before he sealed his lips to hers. He’d done that since the day they met—made her laugh. It was a dangerous weapon. One he now used to get her to agree to things she shouldn’t.
