by Randi Rigby
Hardy nodded. Hardy was loose-limbed and reedy and had terrible posture but his smile was incredibly kind. It started in his eyes and sort of wrapped around your heart. “Hey Kel,” he said shyly from behind the rack he was stocking. And that was a long sentence for him.
I smiled warmly at him. “Hey Hardy. I like that color on you—you’re looking very festive.”
“Don’t you let him off the hook, missy. He’s supposed to be wearing the hat.” Jesse pointed to his own head. “I got one of these for everyone who works here. And I’m the only one wearing it. Everyone’s so worried about his hair. Where’s the Christmas spirit? That’s what I want to know.”
I fondly tapped the fluffy, white ball at the end of his hat with my index finger and set it swinging. “Well, you’re rocking it, Santa.”
“That’s right. I am.” He put the guitar down. “Might as well pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Hardy had already gone to fetch something from one of the studios. Jesse crossed his arms and squinted up at me. “Drew says you’ve been to Italy? I guess that must make you some kind of supermodel now?”
“You’d think so. But sadly, no. I can say ‘I’m 1.88 meters tall’ in five different languages though. Thanks, Hardy.” I tucked my long legs under me as I sat down. “What have you been up to, Jesse? You still trying to two-step your way into Miss Reba Ann’s heart?”
“If that woman could cook I’d ask her to marry me.”
“If you could cook she’d probably say yes.”
Hardy grinned appreciatively. “Don’t you have something to do?” Jesse scowled at him as the store door opened and a couple of customers walked in. “And you, Ms. Sassypants, make yourself useful.” He scooped up a Santa hat from behind the register and threw it at me. “Put that on.”
I did. When Drew returned with Daisy they found me perched on a stool, wearing my Santa hat, and playing Silent Night on the guitar for a couple of kids while their parents plotted with Hardy about delivery of the instruments they’d clandestinely ordered for them for Christmas. “You’re shameless, Jesse,” Drew said over his shoulder before he leaned in to kiss me. “Nice hat.”
“You should try it sometime.” I winked cheekily at him as I wrapped up my impromptu concert—my audience was being claimed by their parents. “Here, you can have mine.”
“I have my own.” He took my hat and tucked it under his arm. “Thanks for this Kel. I should be off in a couple of hours.”
“No problem. Daisy and I are going shopping.”
“At the mall?” Daisy asked hopefully.
“Sure. Why not?”
Why not? It was the week before Christmas. The mall was packed. It took us ages to even find a parking spot. In the crush of people I was clinging tightly to Daisy’s hand. Tonight’s top news story wouldn’t be: Girl Loses Boyfriend’s Little Sister Entrusted to Her Care. “What would you like to look at first?” I bent to ask her, and immediately got bumped sideways from behind.
“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” a guy in a red pullover, jeans, and running shoes said as I turned around. I had maybe eight inches on him in these ankle boots. He blinked up at me in surprise. “You’re the elf.”
I’d completely forgotten. Sure enough, hanging from the ceiling and strategically placed on the floor were enormous foam core tiles with my picture plastered across them. “That’s you!” Daisy said excitedly. “Look, Kel—you’re everywhere!”
“Shh. I see.”
“Can I get a picture with you?” Red sweater wanted to know. He was already taking out his phone. People were starting to stop and stare. “The guys won’t believe this.”
“Um, okay. Sure.”
We got stopped a few more times on our way to the American Girls store. It must be easier to get in line than to be the one initiating because I was being asked to take pictures in clumps. “You’re like a Disney princess at Disneyland,” Daisy grinned as she took my hand again.
I was rethinking our day. “How do you feel about miniature golf?”
But Daisy had a list and all her carefully hoarded allowance tucked safely away inside her little purse; she couldn’t be dissuaded and she didn’t want to shop anywhere else. I pulled up the mall’s store map on my phone and we escaped to a somewhat secluded bench so we could strategize her Christmas shopping in proximity to where we’d parked the car: video games, athletic store, department store. This was no time for wandering.
“Kel, when I grow up will people want to take pictures with me?” Daisy asked as we finally left with purchases in hand, me hurrying, her skipping by my side through the parking lot.
“Of course.” It was right up there with food and air in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs 2.0. “Careful of that car Tonks, it’s backing up.”
She skipped a little faster. “Would you take a picture with me?”
“When you grow up?”
She giggled. “No, now.”
I smiled at her. “How about when we get to the car?” Pulling her close to the Mini and out of the danger of any traffic, I dug my phone out of my purse and squatted down beside her so we were almost the same height. “Make sure we get all of our bags in so we can show off all our hard work. There we go. Nice smile! One more. Perfect.”
As I stood back up, a truck packed with obnoxiously overblown testosterone slowed down. Windows unrolled and I was being loudly propositioned with several crude comments and catcalls. Uncertain, white-faced, and with huge eyes, Daisy looked to me for guidance, slipping her little hand into mine for safety. I opened her door and forced myself to smile reassuringly at her. “Just ignore them, Daisy.”
They didn’t give up. With head held high, I made my way around the front of the Mini between parked cars, to the driver’s side, quickly got in, and locked the doors. Thankfully, they drove off, laughing. “Did they do that because they like you?” Daisy asked, confused. Her fingers were pleating the handle of one of her shopping bags.
“They did that because they’re morons. You okay?”
She nodded.
“Hey, we did great today, didn’t we? We got everything on your list. We should celebrate. You feeling like ice cream?”
“So, how did it go?” Drew asked, meeting us halfway down the front steps of his home in his bare feet. “Looks like you bought out the store, Tonks.”
“Don’t peek!” she squealed, grabbing my arm. “Come on, Kel. We need to hurry and hide everything.”
I grinned apologetically at him. “What she said. Distract Ryan and Will?”
Drew threw open the door and got out of our way. “They’re not back yet.”
Daisy had a big cardboard box in her closet that she’d labeled, “SEEKRET – STAY OUT” and covered with a lot of Xs and mean looking frowny faces so it was clear she meant business. We stashed everything inside and I helped her close it back up and cover it over with a stack of clothes—which also concealed all her painstakingly posted warnings but she knew her brothers better than I did.
I found Drew in the living room, picking out chords on the guitar I got him for his birthday. “Working on something new?” I joined him on the couch.
“I am. I was.” He put his guitar aside. “Now I just want to make out with my girlfriend.”
“Is Drew a moron too?” Daisy asked curiously as she walked into the room hauling Oscar, the corpulent family cat, heavily in her arms. She—and Drew—were both looking at me expectantly, waiting for some sort of answer.
I blushed to my roots. “No. No, he’s not.”
“But you said…”
Seriously? I was in way over my head here. I looked to Drew and heaven for help. “Er, Daisy is referring to an incident that occurred when we were getting ready to leave the mall today. A bunch of guys in a truck were…harassing us. They were pretty crude. She asked me if they did that because they liked me. I told her they did it because they were morons.”
“Ah.” Drew was quiet for a moment. “Daisy, guys like that are morons. Don’t give the
m the time of day—ever. No guy worth knowing treats a girl like that.”
“Kel didn’t like it,” Daisy said quietly. “I didn’t either.”
“I bet.” He tugged on her arm and pulled her and Oscar onto his lap. “I think that’s how you can tell. If someone notices you—even if it seems like they like you—but you don’t like what they’re saying or how it makes you feel then walk away. If they won’t leave you alone, tell someone. Tell me. Promise?”
Daisy solemnly pinky swore and then grinned when she heard the sound of the front door opening. “Mom’s home!” She scrambled off Drew’s lap, dumping Oscar unceremoniously onto the carpet.
“You want to be my big brother?” I asked, slipping onto Drew’s vacated lap.
“No.” Drew nuzzled my neck. “I think the neighbors would talk.”
14
“We’re on each other’s team”
Lorde
“Kel. Good to see you. Come on in.” Mr. Sanders, my guidance counselor, waved me into his office that smelled faintly of disinfected lemons and shoe polish and closed the door. The motivational posters on his walls were all in Latin: Per Aspera ad Astra (through hardship to the stars); Veni, Vidi, Vici (I came, I saw, I conquered). Busts of William Shakespeare kept his books upright. On his desk sat a framed South Park cartoon to show he was a man of the people and a brass nameplate, in case he forgot who he is. “Please, take a seat.”
I did. I was only two days into the new semester and I’d been here for both of them, I wasn’t sure what this was about. He smiled at me as he eased his bulk into his massive wooden chair and leaned forward with his elbows on his desk. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to check in on you, see how things are going.”
“Fine. I think.” I’d managed to keep fairly stellar grades, despite my frequent absences and heavy course load. Maybe he knew something I didn’t. “My teachers last semester were all really great about working with me so I could stay on top of my school work.”
“I guess that’s what I want to talk to you about. I understand your modeling career is really taking off. Your picture’s everywhere these days. I even saw you over Christmas, out shopping with my wife. You were the elf.”
I blushed. “Sorry about that.”
“I’d say congratulations are in order, if fact I should probably ask you for your autograph but that’s not what this about. I pulled up your attendance record.” He handed me a copy. “Do you notice a trend?” He had a green line connecting all the dots for the days/week I was at school and a red line for all the days I wasn’t.
“The amount of time I’m absent has increased.” I didn’t need a graph to tell me that.
“I noticed that too. Do you see this trend continuing?”
I spent most of my Christmas break in New York doing castings in between the three jobs I booked. And I already had a trip scheduled to L.A. tomorrow and Thursday. I had to be honest. “Probably.”
“You’ve got another ambitious class schedule ahead of you, Kel. Looks like three AP classes. Thankfully, none of them require a lab so at least we won’t have to work around that this semester. But still, they’re going to be a challenge. And you’re signed up for choir—that’s weighted heavily on participation.”
I sighed. “You think I need to drop it?”
“Are you willing to risk your GPA?”
I loved singing. I’d been in choirs of some sort since kindergarten. This one hurt. “Okay. I’ll pull out.”
“I think that’s a wise decision. I’ve spoken with all your teachers and they’re willing to assist you with a lot of curriculum access on-line, provided of course, that you continue to meet deadlines and perform well in your classes.”
“I will. Thank you, Mr. Sanders.”
“Of course. Can’t have it said that we stood in the way of you becoming the next Gigi Hadid now, can we?” He grinned as he got to his feet.
Becca leaned heavily against the locker next to mine. She probably only weighed 95 lbs. soaking wet so it barely registered but she was scowling like a pit bull and looked ready to sink her teeth into the administration. “So? What did Sanders want?”
“He wanted me to drop choir.”
“That’s why you were called to the office?” She deflated. “As if I needed any more proof that you and I were polar opposites.”
I gave her my best delinquent face. “Hey, he also called me out on my attendance.”
She snorted. “Right. Was your dad there?”
“No.”
“Did you have to come up with an Action Plan for Improvement?”
“He made me promise I’d turn stuff in on time.”
“So not the same thing.” Becca folded her arms in front of her. “Were the words expulsion or suspension mentioned at all?”
“No.”
“I rest my case.”
I hooked a long arm around her exposed neck—she’d cut her blowsy hair into a short pixie cut over the break, only her spiky tips were still purple—and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Action Plan for Improvement, huh? Is it working?”
“Shut up, McCoy.”
My phone was buzzing; I dug it out of my purse. Kirstie. “You got Vogue! Did you hear me, Kel? You did it! You’re going to be a Vogue girl.”
I sat down on an ordinary, empty bench in an ordinary hall, suddenly weak-kneed and light headed. It had seemed like such a long shot. “When?”
“Next Thursday. I’ve already talked to Shae. She’s freeing up her schedule. And I’m sending Jack with you to L.A. tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“I don’t particularly like the photographer on this shoot. He has a reputation for being handsy. You know how Shae gets. Jack will be able to be a physical presence without the meltdown.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Kirstie. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing it for Shae. You’ll be eighteen next month. We can revisit this then.”
I sighed. I knew that tone. “Okay.”
“Good news or bad?” Becca wanted to know. “I couldn’t tell. Your face was all over the map.”
I brightened. “The best. You’re not going to believe this Bec, I just booked Vogue!”
“Of course you did. How are we even friends?”
Jack waited until we were airborne and I’d spread out across my tray table before gently placing a small box wrapped in ornate gold foil and tied with a gorgeous black bow on top of my open copy of The Blank Slate: The Modern Denial of Human Nature by Steven Pinker—required reading for my psych class and just as fun as it sounded. I stopped highlighting. “What’s this for?”
He shrugged. “Late Christmas, early birthday. Just because.”
“Wow.” I carefully removed the bow and eased my fingers under the folds of the paper and lifted them slowly apart one by one.
“Christmas morning must take forever in your home.”
“The paper’s so pretty I don’t want to rip it.”
“Are you saving it for something?”
“I might.” Of course not.
He rolled his eyes. I grinned at him, elated that we’d found our way back to a space where we could simply be Jack and Kel.
“Oh Jack,” I breathed as I lifted the box lid. Nestled inside was an exquisite antique silver locket necklace. With trembling fingers I opened the clasp, on the right hand side was a black and white picture of Mom. The left side had an engraved inscription, a quote by Abraham Lincoln, All that I am, or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother. My eyes were swimming in tears as I leaned over to kiss his cheek. “It’s beautiful. I’ll treasure it always. Thank you.”
“I’ve had it for a while,” he said quietly. “I just wasn’t sure when to give it to you—especially after you gave me a surfboard and I’d only given you Godiva truffles. But it was your first Christmas without her, I guess I was worried it might be too much.”
I slowly nodded as I dabbed at my eyes wi
th the napkin Jack handed me. “It was harder than I thought it would be—and I thought it would be pretty hard. My mom loved Christmas and she never did anything halfway. Dad found Charlie’s jingle bell collar when we were unpacking the tree ornaments she’d collected over the years. He had to leave the room.” Charlie went from sad eyes resigned to tail wagging relief as he watched me resolutely tuck it back into another box of many boxes of decorations we couldn’t bring ourselves to put up this year. The tree felt necessary. “We mostly tried to keep ourselves crazy busy.”
“I noticed.”
I slipped the necklace on over my head and gathered up my hair and dropped it over the top of it so the chain was lying cool against my neck and next to the delicate silver filigree necklace Drew gave me for Christmas that simply said Grace. “Hawaii looked fun.”
“It was. I needed that.”
“Can we talk about the cute blonde you had your arm around in most of your pictures?”
“No.”
“I don’t even get a name?”
“No.”
“Did you get her name?”
“Don’t you have homework you should be doing?”
“Always.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
“Jack.”
“What?”
“Thanks again for the necklace. I really love it.”
He went back to his laptop. “You’re welcome.”
“David Tennant.” There was no hesitation.
“I’m surprised you didn’t say Matt Smith.” Jack scoffed as he waited for me to get out of our ride. We were heading for sushi after a long day with a particularly creepy photographer—Kirstie wasn’t kidding. Even without him physically touching me I had to take an exfoliating shower the moment I got back to the hotel just to feel clean again. “I thought you were all about the dreamy?”
“Matt Smith is not dreamy. He’s a good actor and he made a good Dr. Who but come on, Jack, be serious: David. Tennant.”