Mistletoe Bully

Home > Nonfiction > Mistletoe Bully > Page 8
Mistletoe Bully Page 8

by Amy Brown


  Chapter Eight

  Palmer

  I barely sleep. Partly that’s because I drank way too much and my head is pounding, but also it’s because I can’t stop seeing Adalee fall. I’d wanted to grab her. I’d wanted to help her. But I’d been frozen in place like a fucking coward, watching in horror as Sabrina tripped her. I hadn’t known what Sabrina was going to do. But once it started happening, I should’ve reacted quicker. I think I’d been shocked at the level of Sabrina’s vindictiveness.

  But also, if I am honest, I gave in to peer pressure.

  I think about what Adalee said about not caring what other people thought about her. I envied her confidence in saying that. Why do I care so much what other people think? Why do I give them that much power over my self-worth? Would it really be the worst thing in the world to no longer be popular? If everybody turned on me tomorrow, why would that matter? I didn’t respect most of them, so who cares what they think?

  I punch my pillow and roll over onto my stomach. Not only do I keep remembering Adalee tripping, but I also can’t forget her scent or taste. How could I do such intimate things to her, and then betray her in front of Sabrina? I’m a fucking loser. I shouldn’t care what she thinks, but I hate the way she looked at me as if I’d deceived her. I know she thinks I was aware Sabrina was going to trip her. She’ll never believe me if I tell her otherwise.

  This thing between Adalee and me is nuts. I’ve never experienced anything like it with someone I barely know. But that’s the weird part, it’s like we do know each other. And yet we don’t.

  Eventually, I manage to drift off and I get a few hours’ sleep. When I wake up, I pop a few pain pills, and shower. I’m working at the Christmas tree lot today, something I do every year. I love it. I enjoy the fresh air and the physical activity. I enjoy the holidays, but my home isn’t Christmasy at all. Dad never gets a tree and we don’t bother to decorate anymore since Mom died. But I still get my holiday fix at the Christmas tree lot. There they play Bing Crosby and Dean Martin Christmas music, and there are colored lights, and a fake Santa for the kids. A lot of the people in town work at the lot to make money, but I do it for purely sentimental reasons.

  I slam down some dry toast and orange juice, and make my way to the Harbor Town Christmas tree lot. Rudy is there already helping a customer with an enormous Douglas fir. I head toward the trailer to punch in, and grab some gloves. When I go into the trailer Trish is there as usual, and she smiles warmly. Trish has worked the tree lot since before I was old enough to work here. She’s a fixture.

  “Morning, Palmer,” she says cheerfully. She moves her position and I see there’s a girl helping her this morning. I’m surprised because Trish usually prefers to work alone. “I’m lucky enough to have help this year.”

  When it sinks in who her helper is, I freeze. Adalee. It takes all my control not to react when I see Adalee sitting in the trailer.

  The fuck is she doing here?

  “Usually I’m stuck in this trailer all by my lonesome,” Trish says, oblivious to the tension in the air. “It’ll be nice to have Adalee to talk to.”

  The most I can manage is a grunt, as Adalee stares at me soundlessly like I’m the grim reaper.

  Trish seems to slowly catch on that all is not right between Adalee and me. She gives me a funny look and then glances at Adalee. Adalee isn’t as good at hiding her emotions as I am. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes stormy gray. Trish appears puzzled by our reaction to each other, but she doesn’t address it. Instead, she launches into a speech about how fresh Douglas firs are due to be delivered in an hour, and one of the guys is out with the flu.

  “Okay,” I say stiffly.

  I stomp past Adalee into the back area of the trailer and grab gloves. My heart pounds from the shock of seeing her, and I hate that I don’t quite know how to act around her. I’m embarrassed by my behavior last night, but also defensive. Adalee, however, doesn’t look confused about her emotions toward me; she just looks pissed.

  Feeling numb, I leave the trailer and head out to the shelter of the trees. Rudy greets me, slapping me on the back.

  “You look rough around the edges,” he says, grinning.

  “I feel like a truck ran me over.”

  He nods. “Did you see Adalee is working in the trailer?”

  “I did.”

  “She’s Julie and Joe’s niece.”

  I squint at him. “She is?”

  “Yep.”

  Fuck. That makes Luke her cousin. No wonder he’d been giving me dagger eyes last night. I’d been confused about why he seemed so protective of her, seeing as he didn’t seem interested in her romantically. Now it makes sense. I’d bet my spleen he’s the one who vandalized Sabrina’s car at the party. Can’t say I blame him. She’d been an out of control witch last night.

  “Why is she staying with them?” I suspect I already know the answer because of her behavior at the quarry the other night.

  “She’s an orphan. Her parents died a few months ago.” He shakes his head. “Poor girl. Right before the holidays too.”

  I wrinkle my brow. “It’s not like it’s fine any other time.”

  He winces. “No. Of course not.”

  While I feel a nudge of sympathy for her, mostly I’m annoyed that Adalee has disrupted the sanctuary of the Christmas tree lot with her presence. I don’t want to worry about her dead parents or her feelings. I have my own fucking problems. Why did Adalee even have to show up in Harbor Town? She’s making my junior year way more stressful than is necessary.

  My thoughts are interrupted when a customer walks up. Mr. Peebles is a regular every year. He’s a hard to please cheapskate. Even if you spend an hour helping him tie his tree to the roof of his car, you’re lucky if you can get a dollar tip out of the tightwad. I want to run, so I don’t have to deal with him, but Rudy is too fast and he slips away to go help someone else. That means I’m stuck with Mr. Peebles.

  “Merry Christmas,” I say, forcing myself to appear cheerful.

  He scowls. “Nothing merry about these prices.”

  Every year it’s the same fucking conversation; The prices are too high. The trees aren’t fresh enough. The cut on the trunk isn’t deep enough. He always complains about the same damn things. It might be worth it if he tipped well, but he doesn’t, so it’s just torture. Plus, the more time I spend helping him, the less time I have to help customers who actually do tip well.

  I spend two hours with Mr. Peebles picking out the perfect tree. I try to steer him toward the more expensive Fraser Fir trees because we earn a tiny percentage of each sale, but he stubbornly sticks with the Douglas Firs because they’re cheaper this year. When he finally decides on one, I pull the red colored tag off the tree. The tags are how the cashier knows what to charge the customers. I hand it to him so he can take it to the trailer to pay, while I give the tree a fresh cut.

  I watch him stomp off toward the trailer, breathing a sigh of relief. I’ve spent my entire time dealing with him. I’m grumpy and sweaty by the time I wrangle his tree back over to him, wrapped neatly in a net. I stand to the side, ready to help him tie the tree onto the roof of his car.

  There’s a line of customers, and Mr. Peebles is getting more and more annoyed as each minute ticks by. It’s freezing this morning, and I clap my gloved hands together to warm my cold fingers. When Mr. Peebles finally gets to the front of the line, I breathe a sigh of relief. I can’t see inside the trailer, but I suspect the person ringing everyone up is Adalee because the line is moving so slowly. Trish must be training her so yippee to those of us outside, freezing our butts off.

  When Mr. Peebles starts yelling, I scowl, wondering what set him off. He faces me and he looks furious. Confused, I cock my head in question.

  “You little crook!” he yells.

  I’m so puzzled by his behavior; I actually look behind myself to make sure he’s talking to me. Apparently he is, because there isn’t anyone behind me. I frown and approach him. “What’s
wrong?”

  “You thought I wouldn’t notice?” he growls. “I’ve been coming here for twenty years and this is how you treat me?”

  I’m close enough now that I can see Adalee through the trailer window. She looks emotionless as she stares at me. I return my attention to the irate man in front of me. “Mr. Peebles, I don’t know why you’re upset.”

  “I told you I didn’t want the Fraser Fir tree.”

  I nod. “I know.” I gesture to the tree I have ready for him. “You didn’t get a Fraser Fir.”

  “I know goddamned well I didn’t get a Fraser Fir, but you still gave me the tag for one, didn’t you, you little thief.”

  Shocked, I shake my head. “No I didn’t.”

  He ignores me and continues to rant, “I know you get a percentage of all the sales. What did you think? I wouldn’t notice you charging me an extra twenty dollars for a tree? How stupid do I look?”

  I distinctly remember giving him the right tag. “Mr. Peebles, I gave you a red tag. Red is for the Douglas Fir.”

  Through the window I can see that Adalee is holding a yellow tag which is for the Fraser Fir. Why is she holding a yellow tag? “This is the tag he handed me,” she says gruffly.

  I shake my head. “No. It was red.” I turn to Mr. Peebles. “Remember? The tag I handed you was red.”

  He snarls, “I don’t know what the hell color the tag was! I’m not in charge of that crap, you are.”

  Trish comes out of the trailer, looking uneasy. “I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding. Adalee is new. She probably just mixed up the tags.”

  “I don’t think so,” Adalee says quietly. “I’m… I’m sure he handed me a yellow tag.”

  Is this bitch for real? Is she trying to get back at me for last night? Panic rises in my gut as all three of them stare at me. “I know I gave him a red tag,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t notice, you little thief,” grumbles Mr. Peebles, glaring at me.

  Anger spikes through me, replacing the panic. How the fuck dare he accuse me of being a crook, and how the hell dare Adalee try and get me fired. What a little brat. Just because Sabrina was mean to her, and I didn’t run to her rescue, she’s going to pull this shit on me? She’s toast. I’ll make sure her every moment at Harbor Academy is torture.

  “For the last time, I gave Mr. Peebles a red tag. I don’t know what happened once he left me because I was giving the tree a fresh cut and bagging it for him.” I’m struggling to keep my voice even. I don’t want to lose my shit in front of Trish. I meet Adalee’s wide gaze, and I give her one more chance to tell the fucking truth. “You know I’m right, Adalee.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know that.”

  Vindictive little whore.

  Rudy walks up and I meet his concerned gaze. He must see the fear in my eyes because he immediately says, “I saw the tag Palmer gave Mr. Peebles. It was definitely red.”

  A lump forms in my throat because I know perfectly well Rudy wasn’t anywhere around when I handed Mr. Peebles his tag. Rudy is just stepping up for me like the fucking saint he is.

  Trish studies Rudy and she flicks her gaze to me. “Well, I for one think there’s just been a mix up. Palmer has been working here for years. He’s a favorite with the customers, but he wouldn’t be if he were ripping people off left and right.”

  “Exactly,” mutters Rudy.

  I’m so relieved Trish is going to bat for me I’m almost lightheaded. For a minute there I thought I was going to lose this job and I’ve really grown fond of working here every year. I’m not even sure I realized just how much until two seconds ago, when it was almost taken from me. I give Adalee a hard look and she grimaces. I don’t know what that gesture means, and I don’t really care. I have no doubt she’s trying to get payback for last night.

  I misjudged her hugely. I thought she was sweet. Vulnerable. She’s a conniving, lying slut, and I’m going to make her pay for this.

  Mr. Peebles is still raving and Trish is trying to pacify him by throwing in a free Christmas tree stand. The one upside of this is I won’t ever have to deal with him again. Thank God for that. Poor Rudy is now stuck with him. No good deed goes unpunished, Rudy.

  I give Adalee one final glare, and I head back into the trees to calm down. I find another family who needs help picking a tree. This time I walk the tag up to the trailer myself, and I hand the tag to Adalee. She takes it from me, her cheeks pink. How can she look so sweet and innocent and be so horrible? Against my will I remember how soft and delicate her body felt in my arms. I hate her guts and want her body. It’s a revolting position to be in.

  “That’s a red tag. Douglas Fir pricing,” I growl at her.

  She nods. “Yes. I see that.”

  I shake my head and stomp off to give the tree a fresh cut. The rest of the day continues exactly like that. I personally deliver every tag to the trailer to make sure Adalee doesn’t screw me over again. Around 4 p.m. Rudy and I take a break. He drags me to his truck, and we drink a few sodas with our feet up on the dash. We bullshit for a few minutes, but then he brings up the subject of Adalee.

  “You know… it’s possible Adalee just made a mistake.” His voice is tentative.

  I frown at him. “You really think that?”

  He shrugs. “I’m saying it’s possible.”

  “She insisted the tag was yellow and I gave him a red tag.”

  “Okay, but she’s brand new. I’ll bet she’s been fucking up all day long. It’s possible she truly did think he gave her a yellow tag. Remember how it felt when you were new? Mr. Peebles was losing his shit right in front of her. He’s a scary dude. He probably has women tied up in his basement. She probably wanted to die rather than admit she’d made yet another mistake, especially with him.”

  I can’t help but laugh at his description of Mr. Peebles. “I think she’s just trying to get revenge.”

  “For what?” He wrinkles his brow.

  I shrug. “Sabrina tripped her and she seemed to think I was in on it with her.”

  “No way. That isn’t your style.”

  I glance at him. “What is my style?”

  He twists his lips, a cocky gleam in his eyes. “Seduction, my friend.”

  My cheeks flush and I avoid his gaze. “Meaning what?”

  “Something happened between you two in that closet.” He sips his soda and then continues. “I’m a little disappointed you haven’t spilled the beans yet. I’ve been patient, waiting for you to open up, but I can see I’m going to have to force it out of you.”

  He’s always been able to read me. “We may have had a moment.”

  He sits up, his eyes wide. “I freakin’ knew it!” He grins. “What happened?”

  I feel a strange reticence to brag about what Adalee and I did in that closet. I’m not sure why I feel the need to defend the honor of some bitch who just tried to get me sacked. “We kissed.”

  “Duh. I already know that.”

  I smirk. “There was tongue.” And finger and orgasm, but never mind that part.

  “Ooh. Is she a good kisser?”

  My cock stirs at the memory of her sucking on my tongue. “Yep.”

  He scowls. “Since when are you so stingy with the deets, dude?”

  I laugh. “We kissed. What’s the big deal?”

  “Well, it was a big enough deal for Sabrina to try and break her neck by tripping her.”

  “That’s because Sabrina is a psycho.”

  “True dat.” He sighs. “I’d love a chance to kiss Adalee. She’s hot.”

  I’m not prepared for the wave of possessiveness that smashes into me. It takes a lot of control not to react. “Really?” I ask casually.

  “Yeah. She’s got a slamming body.”

  Yes. She. Does.

  “Emma is hot too,” he murmurs.

  I’m relieved when he moves on to Emma. Stupidly relieved. “She’s the hottest nerd in the school,” I say.

&nb
sp; “You still gonna tutor Adalee in math?”

  I frown. “She never called me.” I’m vaguely insulted by that.

  “You really think she lied about the tree tag just to get back at you because of Sabrina tripping her?” He narrows his eyes.

  “Her expression was weird. Guilty.”

  “Yeah, but like I said, she might have just been guilty about fucking up so much.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, you’d know. Apparently you’re the head of her fan club.”

  “Dude, I’m always gonna be on your side. You must know that.”

  I do know that.

  I sigh. “You know what I should do to get back at her?”

  “What?”

  “Lure her in with kindness, tutor her in math, but teach her all the stuff wrong. Then she’ll fail math.”

  “Ouch.” He looks uneasy. “That’s pretty low. You could potentially affect her ability to get into the college of her choice.”

  “Boo-fucking-hoo.”

  He chuffs. “I’ve never seen you like this with any chick.”

  I shift uneasily. “She’s really gotten under my skin.”

  “I noticed.” He glances at his watch. “We need to get back. Breaks over.”

  I finish off my soda and crush the can. As I do that I think about how much I’d love to crush Adalee too. I was too nice to her. She must have mistaken my attraction for weakness. I’ll show her I’m not even close to weak.

  Chapter Nine

  Adalee

  I thought I’d be a lot better at this job than I am. I keep adding things wrong and mixing up the tags. That whole thing with Palmer and that crazy old man has me rattled. At first, I’d have sworn the tag that man gave me was yellow, but then Palmer seemed so insistent I began to second-guess myself. I could see from Palmer’s face he felt betrayed. He thought I did it on purpose, I’m certain. The truth is, I simply suck at this job so far. If my aunt and uncle didn’t own the place, I’d probably be fired at the end of the day.

 

‹ Prev