“Hmm, yes. How did we end up here?” I replied playfully. The kissing tree was another one of Rudolph’s beloved Christmas traditions. But it wasn’t an official town-sponsored thing, so I didn’t hate it as much as the rest.
There’s this big maple tree toward the north side of the square with boughs unusually close to the ground. On December 1, someone (nobody knows who for sure) hangs a sprig of mistletoe from the lowest branch. The idea is to bring your crush and share a first kiss under the mistletoe. If they kiss you back, you’re supposed to hang a piece for the next couple.
None of the mistletoe is cut down until January. Apparently, a lot of people were getting first kisses this year. That, or there were a ton of people making out under the tree. There must have been at least fifty strings, dangling at various lengths with small green bouquets on the end.
Evan stepped close and took off his gloves. “Of all the Christmas rituals I’ve witnessed the last few days, this is by far my favorite.”
“Interesting,” I replied.
“How so?” His eyes lingered on my lips; his voice was low and husky.
“It’s the one ritual I’ve never taken part in.”
“Such a tragedy.” He slipped one hand around my back and brought the other to my face, brushing his thumb across my cheek.
“I’ve always thought so.” My eyelashes fluttered before drifting closed.
I felt him lean in, pausing when his lips brushed against mine. His hesitation was purposeful, dragging out the suspense. Man, he was good. “If I kiss you, are you going to kiss me back?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I replied coyly.
Evan pressed his mouth against mine. My cold lips grew warm as he kissed me with expert skill. I lifted my arms and draped them around his neck. Then I waited for a choir of angels to sing the “Hallelujah Chorus” while a beam of light encased us in a swirl of gold and silver glitter. Because that’s what happened to all the girls in Christmas movies, right?
Well, it didn’t happen for me.
There’d been so much flirting and teasing leading up to this moment. He’d done everything by the book. The setting couldn’t have been more perfect. According to Hallmark and Netflix, smooching under the kissing tree should be magical. Evan was a good kisser—no, a great kisser. But for some reason, I didn’t feel any sparks.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since the second I saw you,” he said with a dreamy smile. He must have had a different experience than I did.
Worried about hurting his feelings, I replied, “I’ve wanted you to do that since the second you saw me.” It was the truth, though my delivery made me sound more amorous than I was.
“What should we do now?” His eyes devoured me with silent desire. I contemplated kissing him again. Maybe it took a few tries before the angels showed up. Maybe I was expecting too much. Maybe I sucked at smooching. He waited for my response, and I could tell he was ready to start round two.
“I think we should go back to my house and make some hot chocolate,” I blurted like a chicken. His face scrunched up. Clearly, that wasn’t what he thought I’d say.
He started to put his gloves back on but stopped. “Wait. I almost forgot.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of mistletoe, already attached to a string. “Better hang this up before we leave.”
I gasped. “You planned to bring me here all along?” I don’t know why I was surprised. Evan was too smooth to be spontaneous. Perhaps that was the problem with the kiss. You can’t plan sparks; they need to happen naturally.
“When it comes to pretty girls, I don’t leave anything to chance.”
I quirked an eyebrow and jutted my chin toward his hand. “How’d you know I’d kiss you back?” His only response was a wink. Nate was right. Evan wasn’t a twit, but he was cocky.
By the time we got to my house, everything was back to normal. The awkwardness I’d felt at the park had dissipated, replaced with more flirty banter. I resolved to give him another chance before I decided I wasn’t into him.
“Are you ready?” Nate asked with more enthusiasm than I thought necessary.
I shrugged. “I guess.”
He took me by the shoulders and gave me a firm shake. “Come on, grumpy Gus. You can’t tell me you didn’t have at least a little fun yesterday.” His hand was in front of my face, thumb and index finger about an inch apart.
I went for my driest expression and tried to hold out, but a smile slipped through anyway. “Fine,” I admitted. “It was a little bit fun. I especially liked the winning part.”
In a show of confidence, Nate laced his fingers together, then turned his hands outward and cracked his knuckles. He bounced on his toes, stretching his head side to side like he was gearing up for a fight. “And we’re going to win today, too. That’s what awesome people like us do, Chrissy. They win. Because they’re the best. And they’re awesome.”
I laughed. “Okay, Tony Stark. Want to tell me how intelligent you are next?”
“Nah.” He waved me off with a devilish grin. “You already know that.”
“Good afternoon, people of Rudolph,” Kathy called from the stage. She’d managed to fix the microphone feedback problem. “Are you ready for the second challenge in our competition?”
“What do you think it’ll be?” I leaned over to ask Nate.
“I dunno. But I bet it’s something big.”
Kathy continued. “We have thirty contestants left after last night’s eliminations. And there are thirty Christmas trees set up in the high school gym. They’ve all been sectioned off with tarps for privacy.
“Yes!” Nate hissed. “Tree decorating. We totally got this.”
“You have until seven o’clock to decorate your tree in any theme you like.” The crowd started buzzing with whispers. Kathy held up a finger. “Except Christmas.”
Say what?! The tittering came to a screeching halt. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, so of course I snorted—really loud. I got a few dirty looks and some nasty grumbles. “Sorry,” I said, coughing into my hand as I tried to conceal my giggles.
“Now, now. Settle down, folks. I know this is unconventional.” Kathy looked out over the mob of confused and angry faces. “But anyone can decorate a Christmas tree. Where’s the challenge in that?” Kathy was right. Every single one of these fools could create a Christmas-themed tree in their sleep.
A random guy from the crowd shouted, “If it’s not a Christmas tree, what’s the point?”
“The point is to be creative. Make something beautiful that expresses your personality. If you could sum yourself up and stick it on a tree, what would that tree look like?”
“Hmm.” Nate thought for a second before he elbowed me in the ribs and nodded appreciatively. “It’s an anti-Christmas Christmas tree. This challenge is perfect for you.”
I grunted. “Except you’re forgetting the part where I’m not creative at all.”
He slung his arm around my shoulders. “That’s where I come in.”
Kathy continued, “You aren’t prohibited from using Christmas colors or wintery décor. In fact, it’s highly recommended. We still want this to feel like the Yuletide Pageant. However, anyone using traditional store-bought ornaments will be disqualified. All trees must have an overriding non-Christmas theme that’s obvious to the judges.”
“Does Die Hard count?” I whispered. “I think we should make a John McClane tree. It could have tiny guns, grenades, and sticks of dynamite hanging from each branch. We could write the best movie quotes on bows and tie ’em to the ends. Make a star with his face on it…”
“Just stop.” Nate moaned and rolled his eyes. I pursed my lips together in a smug grin.
“Dig deep, everyone,” Kathy said. “We’re very excited to see what you come up with. Now, on your marks, get set, go!”
The crowd dispersed, running toward their cars and homes in a frenzy of chaos. Some of them were anxious and some of them co
mplained. Barbara Cushing appeared positively sick with worry. I pointed to her. “I think Barb needs a sedative.”
“Barb always looks like she needs a sedative,” Nate quipped. He drummed his fingers against each other, eyebrows knit together. “Okay, Chrissy, focus. It’s time to brainstorm. We need a good—”
“My idea was good,” I argued.
He narrowed his eyes and spoke over me. “…realistic, legitimate, not sucky idea.”
“You want me to call Garland and Evan?” I taunted, then reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. “I’m sure they’d come back to help.”
“No!” he almost shouted. Nate hadn’t been too happy about being ditched at breakfast. Even though he was the one spying on my date. I didn’t tell him where Evan and I went or about the kissing tree. Call me crazy, but I figured that wouldn’t end well.
To be on the safe side, I’d been extra sweet and obliging for the rest of the morning. It helped that Garland took Evan over to the mall in Rutland about an hour ago. Nate’s mood instantly improved when he learned we’d be alone for the rest of the day.
“What do you love?” Nate gave me a dry stare. “Besides Die Hard.”
I pursed my lips, pretending to think. Finally I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“Ha-ha, you’re not helping. Do you want your real tree to look as horrendous as your candy trees did?”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do.”
He had me there. My candy trees really had been awful. I didn’t love Christmas, but I loved winning. Competitive was one personality trait that Nate and I shared. “Okay, okay. How about chocolate? I really love chocolate.”
“That you do.” He laughed. I could see the little cogs and wheels spinning in his head. “It’s actually a good idea. I think we could make something cool.” His smile quickly turned into a frown. “Though, it would be really expensive to buy that many chocolate bars.”
I frowned as well. “Good point.”
“We can keep that one as a backup, but we should try to find a theme with decorations we already have access to.”
“I got it.” I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “What about a superhero theme? There’s a bunch of junk in our attic from when Garland went through his superhero phase. Remember? Your mom helped mine pick out all that stuff for his bedroom.”
Nate bent over and scooped up a handful of snow. He patted it into a compact ball, then chucked it at the nearest bush. “Also a decent idea. However, the tree is supposed to say something about you, and you’ve never been into superheroes.” I started to argue, but Nate cut me off. “John McClane isn’t a superhero.”
I wrinkled my nose and moved on. “Winter?”
“Overplayed.”
“Summer?”
“No. It’d be hard to find objects small enough to replace ornaments. Flip-flops, pool noodles, and beach balls would look bulky and out of place on a tree.”
“We could do a flower garden,” I suggested, secretly hoping he’d shoot it down. “Between both of our houses, there’s probably enough silk floral arrangements to decorate a whole tree.”
He pretended to gag. “Sure, if you’re an old lady.”
I thought a moment longer. “Rainbow!”
“Absolutely not.” Nate shook his head.
I stomped my foot in protest to his rejection. “What? Come on. That’s a good one. It’d look cool, and we should easily be able to find enough stuff lying around.”
“But it’s boring and predictable. Plus, ten bucks says that’s the theme Wickham chooses.” He made a mound of snow with his boot and kicked it repeatedly with his toe. He was probably right about Sebastian, because rainbow would look cool and Sebastian always took the cool ideas.
“Oh, I know,” I exclaimed sarcastically. “Why don’t we do a sports theme?”
I was being facetious, but Nate was in his own little world and didn’t pick up on it. “That’s more of a me thing, not a you thing. This is supposed to be your tree.”
My hands flew up in frustration. “If it’s supposed to be my tree, then it should be decorated like a better holiday than stupid old Christmas.” I threw myself down onto the ground, not caring that I landed in a crunchy, dirty snowbank. My butt would be wet and frozen, but the temper tantrum was worth it.
A wide smile spread across his face. “Christmas Eve Jensen, you are truly brilliant. I’m ashamed I didn’t think of it first.” He was so excited that he tackled me, creating a Chrissy-size dent in the snow. Great, now all of me would be soaked. But Nate would be soaked, too, so at least it was fair.
I chuckled as he rolled off me and laid by my side. “Of course I’m brilliant,” I replied. “But would you remind me why? There are so many reasons to choose from.”
He grabbed my hand and turned his head to face me. “We can decorate with objects from all the other holidays besides Christmas. My mom has done a blog segment for every occasion you can think of. Heck, we have so much stuff, we could even throw in birthdays, weddings, and baby showers. We’ll literally make the anti-Christmas tree.”
Suddenly I felt as excited as he did. “I can totally get behind a non-Christmas tree.”
Nate gave my hand a tight squeeze, then surprised me by kissing my cheek. We’d never been the type of besties that snuggled and held hands. In my opinion, those people should just add the kissing and consider themselves a couple. His recent increase of affection was odd…but kind of nice, too. I knew I shouldn’t get used to it. Once Evan left town, Nate would go back to normal. Jealousy did strange things to boys.
He jumped up and pulled me to my feet. “This is going to be fun,” he said, lifting me off the ground and twirling me in circles.
I laughed as he set me down. “I’ve never seen you so giddy about Christmas.”
“You’ve never let me be giddy about Christmas.” He bopped me on the nose. He was practically glowing. Doing Christmassy stuff was annoying, but it was worth it to see Nate so happy. I should have succumbed a long time ago.
We hurried home and gathered all the stuff we thought we might need. That ended up being four plastic bins containing decorations and a fifth one filled to the top with lights. Nate’s mom offered to take us to the school in her truck. It probably saved us an hour of hauling supplies back and forth on foot.
Kathy walked out of the gym as we were dragging the bins in. She narrowed her eyes at Nate. “I knew you had to be the one behind this.”
I’d have been insulted if she wasn’t so spot on. “There aren’t any rules against getting help,” I pointed out.
Her face puckered up. I was right, and she didn’t like it. “Just make sure he’s getting credit where credit is due.”
Nate gave Mrs. Newport his most charming smile. “Don’t worry. She’s doing all of the work. I’m only here for heavy lifting and moral support.”
She grunted and walked out to the parking lot. I raised my eyebrows. “Now who’s the liar?”
“Hey,” he said defensively. “If you can do it, I can do it.”
It was almost two o’clock by the time we actually started working on our tree. The next five hours flew by. I’d have never believed it could take someone five hours to decorate a Christmas tree. Especially when it’d already been set up for you. We finished with only twenty minutes to spare.
Nate was very particular about what he wanted to use and where he wanted to put it. I had very little say in the process, but I probably had more fun watching him anyway. I knew he was good at all this crafty stuff. I always figured it was because he’d been exposed to it for so long. I never stopped to think he might be good because he enjoyed doing it.
“You want to do the honors?” he asked after placing the last Easter egg in the only empty spot. There were trinkets from all the big holidays covering the tree. It was so full that you could barely see the tree itself. Sparkly noisemakers, red and pink heart garlands, pastel plastic eggs, miniature
flags, tiny turkeys—you name it, we had it. I particularly loved the Halloween stuff. Jack-o’-lanterns and spiders should go on every Christmas tree. Too bad Nate put the kibosh on my strobe light suggestion.
“You did all the work,” I replied. “You should light it up.”
He grinned at me. “No, you have to do it so you can honestly say you helped.”
“Wise guy.” I blew a raspberry at him as I walked to the power strip and plugged in the cord for the lights. We’d gone with plain white, figuring that colored lights would clash against the different décor. I thought all those ornaments would look gross regardless of the lights, but somehow Nate made everything seem like it belonged together.
“Nice,” he mumbled when he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
I walked around the tree to join him and gasped. “Nate, that’s way better than nice.” I wasn’t trying to flatter him or inflate his ego. In my eighteen years as the daughter of Christmas fanatics, I’d never seen such a beautiful Christmas tree.
He stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. He rested his chin on my head and replied, “Agreed. We make a good team.” He and I stood like that for a minute, enjoying the fruits of our/his labor until the tarp crinkled behind us.
Kathy poked her head in, and I jumped out of Nate’s arms. For some reason, letting him hold me like that made me feel guilty. She took in our project, and her eyes went wide. “Oh my.”
It wasn’t clear whether that meant she appreciated the tree or was appalled by it.
“Oh my good, or oh my bad?” I asked.
She gave me the sincerest smile I’d ever received from her. “It’s lovely,” she cooed, holding out a blank piece of cardstock and a marker. “The committee wants everyone to name their tree. Sounds a lot more eloquent than giving out a number, don’t you think? The contestants’ names will still be anonymous for the judges.”
“Thanks.” Nate took the card from her hand, and she dropped the tarp.
“Am I the only one who thought that was weird?” I asked. “She complimented me.”
The Trouble With Christmas Page 6