When he turned down my dad’s offer for dinner, I felt my heart break all over again.
Was this what it would always be like now? A thousand little moments I’d thought we’d have, stolen away? Each one felt like a knife to my heart, stealing my ability to breathe.
At this point, I was eager for any excuse to get away from that. Even if it meant helping Marissa play matchmaker.
I slid out of my seat wordlessly, following Marissa while I continued to stew over Lucas’s rejection of my dad’s offer to join us for dinner. We were supposed to pretend to be together through the holidays. And Lucas knew what these Sunday dinners meant to me.
It’s the one tradition we’d kept alive after my mom died. And never before had my dad invited anyone to join us.
Does Lucas hate me that much?
If he couldn’t even manage one more dinner with me how were we going to make it through winter break?
That staggering feeling pierced my heart again, leaving me winded. I was thankful Marissa seemed to have reached her destination because I suddenly didn’t have the energy to stay on my feet.
Marissa stopped outside the supply closet deep in the back of the restaurant. I hadn’t been back here in years. I leaned against the wall while Marissa unlocked the door with a key she got from who knew where.
I gave myself a moment to let my mind wander back to happier times; when Lucas and I had been playing ball at Northwood.
This was always the team restaurant. We came here after every home game. My dad coached the boys’ baseball team and kept his victory swag in the supply closet. Foam fingers that declared ‘Trojan’s are number one’, green and gold beads, hats, koozies, bumper stickers and other Northwood pride memorabilia. I fondly remembered coming back here with Lucas to dig up some prizes after a particularly tough loss. My dad always thought swag boosted morale. But for me, nothing could drag me from the dregs like kissing Lucas Hargrove.
I closed my eyes leaning my cheek against the cool brick wall, remembering how Lucas had pushed me up against it in his haste to unlock the door and find a place for us to make out.
My heart splintered again and I cracked my eyes open, suddenly aware of Marissa’s keen gaze studying me. I sighed. “Alright, let’s hear it,” I said, bracing myself for whatever scheme she had planned.
And knowing Marissa, there was a scheme.
But I had to hand it to her. She turned fake-dating Archer Montgomery into the real deal. If anyone could work matchmaking miracles it was Marissa Munns.
She didn’t reply. Instead she opened the door and led the way into the closet. I followed her inside and she shut the door behind us, bathing us in silence.
“Uh, is there a reason you brought me here?” I asked, looking around the cramped space full of mops and cleaning supplies and Northwood sports junk.
“This,” Marissa said, holding up a sprig of mistletoe she pulled from her purse.
Despite how much my heart ached, the devious little plant startled a laugh out of me. “Marissa, I love you, but you’re not my type.”
“It’s not for me,” she teased. “I just needed your help to reach the ceiling.”
“Okaaay . . .” I drawled, wondering why the heck she’d asked me instead of Alex. The girl was like Xena Warrior Princess, while I was closer to Marissa’s height. Or why hadn’t she asked Archer. The dude was built like the Hulk.
Alarm bells started to ping in my head as I steadied the folding chair Marissa moved to the center of the closet and climbed on. I calmed myself by assuming she’d chosen me as an accomplice because everyone else had probably already turned her down.
I wasn’t the only one familiar with her scheming.
I was probably helping set some sort of trap for Chelsea and Chris. Not really how I wanted to spend my Christmas Eve, but then again neither was pretending not to be heartbroken about breaking up with Lucas.
“So why do we need to hang mistletoe in here again?” I asked. “Er . . . you know what? Never mind. The less I know the better.”
Marissa winked at me and continued her task. I’d learned it was best not to ask too many questions when she was in scheming mode. And from what I knew of Chris, he was no stranger to dating games, so he probably wouldn’t mind being trapped in a mistletoe-rigged closet with a gorgeous girl. I knew Chelsea would be all for it. She’d practically been licking cocoa off his face at the table.
Again, my foolish heart gave a hopeful little squeeze, remembering when Lucas and I had been like that. I pushed the memory away. I needed to find a way to shut down these painful recollections if I was ever going to survive this breakup. I didn’t want things to be over between me and Lucas, but it wasn’t up to me. He didn’t trust me and there was nothing I could do to fix that, no matter how much I still loved him.
Marissa finished stringing up her meddlesome mistletoe and climbed down off the chair, shoving it back in the corner where she’d found it. When she turned around, her eyes were serious. “Casey? Are you okay?”
I took a deep breath and shook off the pain that was crushing my heart. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You don’t seem like yourself.”
“I’m not feeling that well. I might be coming down with something.” Might as well start laying the groundwork to get out of any future winter break plans since it seemed Lucas wasn’t going to honor our fake dating deal. “I think I’m gonna head home early.”
“You can’t!” Marissa snapped. “I mean, you guys just got here, and we’re supposed to do Christmas Carol-oke!”
I pasted on a smile and tried my best to look cheerful. “Maybe I just need some sleep. I’m sure Lucas will stay. Alex and Grant can give him a ride home. I’m just not feeling it this year.”
Marissa’s eyes studied me for a moment. I felt my cheeks warm under her scrutiny, sure she could detect my lies. If she did, I knew she’d call me on them. The feisty Texan was never one to sugarcoat things—which was funny considering her love of baking.
I hadn’t missed the baskets of Christmas cookies she’d brought for each of us. Too bad I had no appetite. My stomach had been taken over by a family of heartbroken butterflies. Or maybe they were moths. Butterflies were for people who still had hope.
All I had was heartache.
“Casey, what’s going on?” Marissa asked, her voice soft and inviting. “Is everything okay with you and Lucas?”
Gah! The girl was good!
She was coaxing the truth out of me like a warm blanket that begged to be curled up in. And suddenly I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I looked at the floor, then my watch and sighed as I realized this was it. I was about to officially call time of death on my relationship with Lucas. But there was no use putting it off. Lucas seemed to have checked out the minute we walked into Champs—or maybe it was the moment he found out Kelly was a guy.
Either way, if Marissa had figured out something was up, then everyone else was probably pretty close behind.
My eyes finally met Marissa’s as I fought to keep my voice from cracking. “No, everything’s not okay. I think . . . I think we’re breaking up.”
“What? No! Casey, you guys are meant to be!”
“That’s what I thought, but Lucas apparently disagrees.”
“This isn’t still about the Harvard thing, is it?” Marissa asked.
Pain invaded my chest again as that one little word dredged up more unpleasant memories. “No. I mean, I don’t know. The fact that Lucas passed up Harvard to be with me definitely still eats at me, but this fight . . . it’s about something else.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“Not unless you have a time machine so I can go back to last year when Lucas and I were at Columbia together and everything was great.”
“I wish I could do that for you,” Marissa said, coming forward to wrap me in a hug.
I couldn’t help it, with her arms around me I broke down. Tears spilled over, and Marissa let me cry it out, which thankfully wasn’t
half as long as I expected.
When I regained my composure, she held me at arm’s length, studying me again. “Did something happen at Syracuse?”
“No, but that’s the problem. Lucas thinks it did and there’s nothing I can say to make him believe me.”
Marissa tapped her chin, thinking.
She looked like she’d been cast in the role of therapist and she was playing the part perfectly, reminding me just how great she was going to do on Broadway one day.
“So, it’s a trust issue?” Marissa asked after a moment.
Man, she was good. “Yeah, and I don’t know how to fix that.”
Marissa clutched my shoulders. “The first thing you need to ask yourself is do you want to fix it?
“Yes!”
“So, you still love Lucas?”
“Of course!” I didn’t even have to think about that.
“Then the solution is easy.”
“It is?” Those moths in my stomach instantly morphed into butterflies again at the tiny kernel of hope in my voice.
“Yes. Don’t give up.”
Don’t give up? That was her sage advice? The spark of hope I’d had a moment ago dissolved, leaving me feeling deflated as I slouched against the door. My butterflies faded back into moths, already familiar with their world of monochromatic misery.
“I’m serious, Casey. You can’t give up so easily.”
“I don’t want to, but Lucas has made it pretty clear that he does.”
“Maybe you guys just need to talk it out.”
“Trust me, we’ve tried that. If we couldn’t solve this in the excruciatingly long drive from New York, we’re not gonna come up with a solution now.”
“You won’t know unless you try,” she argued.
“Look, I know you’re trying to help, Marissa, and I appreciate it, but it would take a miracle to fix things between me and Lucas.”
A twinkle I didn’t particularly like glinted in Marissa’s eyes. “It is Christmas Eve. What better time than this for miracles?”
I was just about to ask her what she was hinting at when there was a knock on the door. “Hello? You guys in there?”
My heart dropped when I recognized Lucas’s voice. I glared at Marissa. “No way! Not gonna happen,” I whisper-hissed to my meddling friend. “Don’t you even think about it.”
But Marissa just gave me a sweet smile and opened the door to a confused-looking Lucas and Archer. “Oh good,” she said. “You’re just the guy I need, Lucas.”
“For what?” he asked as she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into the cramped closet.
“To test out my mistletoe.” Marissa pointed up at the plant and stealthily swapped places with Lucas in the closet. I tried to slip out with her, but I wasn’t fast enough. The last thing I saw was her and Archer grinning at me as the door slammed shut.
Lucas jumped at the sound. Turning around, he finally understood what our friends had just done. His hand shot out and tried the handle. It didn’t budge. “What the . . . it’s locked!”
Panic wrapped around my throat, but I forced myself to remain calm. “Marissa, this isn’t funny. You know I’m claustrophobic.”
“Yeah, not cool guys!” Lucas added. “Let us out.”
“Not until you un-breakup,” Marissa replied.
Lucas’s eyes flared with anger as he looked at me. “I thought we weren’t telling anyone?”
I ignored him and tried to reason with my friends again. “This isn’t high school, Marissa. Seven Minutes in Heaven isn’t going to fix everything.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re playing Seven Minutes under the Mistletoe. It’s much more magical.”
I listened as Marissa and Archer whispered something to each other. Marissa giggled and my temper flared. “You’re not seriously going to leave me in here! I wasn’t kidding about the claustrophobia. I’m gonna have a panic attack.”
“Just let the mistletoe work its magic,” Marissa said. “The quicker you kiss and make up, the quicker you get out.”
“You know it’s a little more complicated than that,” I yelled in a last-ditch effort. “This is never gonna work.”
“Sure, it will,” Marissa insisted. “Just tell Lucas what you told me.”
Lucas looked at me, betrayal etched on his handsome features. “What did you tell Marissa?”
I faced the door again and jiggled the knob. It didn’t budge. Groaning, I let my forehead fall against the door as I listened to Archer and Marissa’s voices grow quieter as they walked away.
Great! Just great!
I was all for facing demons, but doing it locked in a closet on Christmas Eve with a boyfriend who no longer loved me . . . there wasn’t enough mistletoe in the world to fix our problems.
Chapter Twelve
Nicole
“Chris, I swear if you don’t give me my phone, I’m taking back your Christmas presents!” I snapped, lunging and missing the phone Chris was clutching.
“Chill, it’s just a message from Mom,” he grumbled, passing me my phone and pulling out his own. He read the same message I’d received from our parents out loud to the group. “Roads are icy and starting to close. Looks like this storm isn’t letting up for a while. Please stay at Champs. We’ll pick you up once the snowplows have been through. We’ve seen too many car accidents come into the hospital today already. I don’t want you on the roads. Love you, Mom.”
My stomach dipped as I looked out the window. The harmless flurries from earlier had turned into a dangerous blizzard in the time we’d been at Champs. I heard phones at tables around us start to go off as more concerned parents began checking in. A few kids paid their bills and ran to their four-wheel drive vehicles to brave the roads before they got any worse. Others gathered around the windows to watch the falling snow making a judgement call.
I agreed with my parents. Staying at Champs was the safest option. We had no business driving Chris’s sports car in the snow. But the idea of spending Christmas morning without my parents was too much to bear. It was already bad enough that Ian wasn’t here, but now this?
My dread was accumulating as fast as the snow.
Family holidays were always a big deal in our house. Even though our parents were both doctors they always made sure we got to celebrate Christmas together. Chris and I would stay up until midnight so we could each open one present from my parents. Then they’d send us up to bed so ‘Santa’ could bring the rest.
They still did that! Even now that we were in college and the days of believing in Santa were long gone. I loved that about my parents—their commitment to filling our holidays with magic.
My heart ached as I suddenly longed for the days when I believed in Santa Claus, and things like magic and miracles existed if you only wanted them bad enough.
I certainly needed something to believe in at the moment.
This year was proving to be one of difficult firsts.
First time living away from home. Away from my brother, my parents, Ian. And now I was spending Christmas alone, too.
Not alone. I reminded myself that Chris was with me. But when I looked over, the concern I saw etched on his face did little to comfort me. He was worried. Which meant it was officially time for me to panic.
While Chris frowned down at his phone, seemingly lost in thought, I checked my messages. Still nothing from Ian so I pulled up the flight app to track his flight for the millionth time. It hadn’t been helpful thus far, so I did it more out of nervous habit than anything else. But this time, there was something new.
My stomach bottomed out when I saw the change in status. His flight had been diverted. But it was the most recent update that had me reaching for my brother.
“What is it?” he asked, but I couldn’t get the words out. Instead, I just handed him my phone and watched his already pale complexion turn ghostly.
“What’s wrong?” Marissa asked.
“It’s Ian’s flight. It says, ‘Communication lo
st. No info—call airline’.”
The table fell silent and Marissa reached across to grab my hand. “He’s okay. It’s probably just a mix-up.”
Tears welled in my eyes and I couldn’t speak. Thankfully, Chelsea spoke up taking some of the attention off of me. “Marissa’s right. My dad’s a pilot. This kind of thing happens all the time. Especially around the holidays.”
“But the snow . . .” Chris whispered, saying what I was thinking.
“Exactly the problem,” Chelsea said, with confidence. “I’m sure the weather ended up cancelling a lot of flights and re-routing others. The system just takes a while to catch up on the consumer end of things, but the airlines always know where their planes are. They cost too much to lose track of.”
Her words made sense but did nothing to distract me from my worry. My overactive imagination had already run through every worst-case scenario and latched on, making it impossible for me to think rationally.
“I . . . I could call my dad,” Chelsea offered tentatively. “If you think that might help.”
“Please!” I said, already on my feet. “Can we call now?”
Chris put a calming hand on my shoulder. “What my sister means to say is, thank you, that would be great, Chelsea. Calling your dad would be a big help, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Chelsea gave him a sincere smile that made her already pretty features glow. “No trouble at all.”
I followed Chris and Chelsea away from the table of our friends, praying we had good news when we returned. I didn’t know how I’d ever be able to face them if I didn’t.
Being adopted, I’d always prided myself on being well-adjusted, working to be just like everyone else. But here, in this moment, I didn’t feel that way at all. I felt small and afraid.
Deep down, I was still that little girl who’d been abandoned. And when things like this came up, I reverted to that version of myself again. The one who felt alone and terrified of having the people she loved leave her.
This was why I’d resisted my feelings for Ian for so long. I’d been afraid that his feelings would change, and he’d leave me. I think I always knew that I wouldn’t survive something like that. And now, faced with that very dilemma, I knew I’d been right. I felt like a paper doll, already creased and ready to crumble with the blow of bad news.
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