by Emily Lowry
“While I would love to hear that, I think that it’s only fair to give the rest of the choirs a chance. But I will see you on Christmas Eve, Tyler.”
“See you then,” I said.
Nina’s grandma and uncle said their goodbyes and left.
Nina laced her fingers in mine and rested her head on my shoulder. As soon as they were out of sight, she let go. “There,” she said. “Now it’s basically official that I have a boyfriend and they won’t make me kiss anyone at the Christmas Eve party. You don’t actually have to come — I’ll make an excuse for you.”
Before I could reply, she’d turned back to the group, leaving me alone with my thoughts. She was right — I didn’t have to come to the party. We were friends, and she just wanted me as an excuse. That was all — that was the entire point of this fake relationship. I needed to remember that.
My only purpose was to get her out of having to kiss Edward Stewart. That was all.
And nothing more.
32
Nina
It had been the best weekend of my life. Cookie stealing. Eating at a pedal bike restaurant. Obnoxious singing. Swimming in a storm. I doubted I would ever – EVER – top that weekend.
But on Monday, it was back to reality.
Gym class. Biology. English Lit.
Boring, boring, boring.
My life had become infinitely more exciting since “dating” Tyler. Once this whirlwind experiment was over, life would be back to the way it was before – weekends spent on the couch watching Netflix, with only the pizza guy for company.
I couldn’t say I was excited.
I was on my way to lunch when someone skittered to a stop beside me, put her arm through mine, and angled me towards the girls’ bathroom.
“What do you want, Parker?”
“To apologize.” Parker pushed open the bathroom door and forced me inside. Then, she put her purse down and began pulling out make up to touch up her already flawless skin. She pouted at her perfect reflection. “You and Tyler are together. Like actually together. I shouldn’t have doubted you. So I wanted to apologize for that.”
It might’ve been the first time that Parker had said sorry to me in my entire life. I eyed her skeptically. “Thank you?”
“You’re welcome.” Parker’s makeup bag fell on its side, the contents spilling around the sink. Mascara, lip gloss, blush. She looked back at her reflection, and swept a fluffy brush across her cheekbone, shimmering it in gold. Then she looked at me and raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “And I know just how to make it up to you.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “I’m good.”
“Nina, Nina, Nina.” Parker walked towards me. In her wedge heels, she towered over me. “Don’t you remember? We’re friends. Let me make everything up to you by telling you something important.”
So now we were friends? I would not rise to her bait. Not today. “I’m okay.”
Parker’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “You should really know this. It’s about Tyler. About the kind of person he is.”
Keep calm, Nina, keep calm.
“I think I know him better than you do,” I said evenly.
“I would hope.” Parker’s eyes twinkled. “I take it that he’s apologized for the name-calling?”
“What name-calling?” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Parker took another step closer, so close that I could smell her minty breath. “The things he used to call you when he was making fun of you. Awkward. Gross. Lean Cuisina? You must’ve heard that one. He said it before you got so… tall. When you were still chunky. You remember.”
I’d heard the nickname before, back in middle school. But I’d never heard Tyler say it. He didn’t make it up, did he? No. It wasn’t true. It was just Parker trying to get a rise out of me.
“He wouldn’t say that.”
“He would. And he did. I think he actually felt sorry for you… but I’m so glad he’s now come clean about his past.” Parker smiled. “Honesty is important in a relationship.”
My insecurities boiled inside me, but I swallowed them back. I’d known Tyler long enough to know that there wasn’t a mean part of his personality. And that it was a large part of Parker’s.
“Very important,” I agreed sweetly. “Thanks for telling me, Park.”
Parker’s hand slipped, and her lip twitched. She hated – HATED – that nickname.
I grinned. “Now, I’d better go. I don’t want to be late meeting my boyfriend.”
My mouth was dry, my voice hoarse. But I’d kept calm and hadn’t let Parker get to me. Tyler would’ve been so proud.
“I understand,” Parker said. She reached out and brushed my cheek, a gesture that was way, way too familiar. “A little tip — when you apply foundation, use downward strokes. When you use upward strokes, it makes your peach fuzz stand up so it’s more noticeable. It’s the little details that make all the difference.”
I reached to touch my face self-consciously.
Parker stopped my hand. “Don’t touch it. You don’t want to ruin your look. You’re dating one of the A-List now, remember? You don’t want people to think Tyler’s dating you to do his part for charity.”
Before I could respond, Parker returned to her mirror.
And, before I lost my temper, I got out of that bathroom as quickly as I could.
I found Ty standing at his locker.
“What’s up, girlfriend?” Tyler asked as he casually slung his arm around my shoulder.
I told him about my encounter with Parker in the bathroom, and he listened carefully, his expression darkening as I spoke. When I was finished, he placed a gentle hand on each of my shoulders and stared right into my eyes. My pulse quickened.
“You know that I would never say any of those things about you, right?”
“Right.” I knew that he was telling the truth, but it still hurt. It was dumb – like being mad at someone for something they’d done in a dream.
Ty exhaled loudly. “Man, she’s a piece of work. I can’t believe I ever dated her.”
“Me either,” I said, not bothering to hide my smile. Tyler wasn’t just a good guy. He was the best guy.
“So, what are you up to after school?”
“Band practice.” I held up my trumpet case. “But, before I forget, the next Candy Cane event has been announced. It’s a Christmas train ride, this weekend.”
“You mean I don’t have to sing?” Tyler’s green eyes danced.
“Why wouldn’t you want to sing?” I said seriously. “You heard my grandma – you have the voice of an angel.”
“Your grandma needs to listen to better angels.” Tyler flashed a half-smile that made my heart go haywire. “Let’s get some food. I just need to grab my books for after lunch.”
As he pulled two thick binders from his locker, a piece of paper fluttered out, landing on the floor between us. It was folded into a square, and there was a heart drawn on the front in red ink.
What was that?
I bent down to pick it up, but Tyler was faster.
“Let me get that.” He swiped the note and stuffed it back in his locker. Then, before I could get another glance at the paper, he shut his locker with a swift bang.
I paused for a moment, but he made no move to explain. Was that a letter? A… love letter? Of course girls would write love notes to Tyler. Everyone loved Tyler.
My mind flashed to pretty, blond Amber Bateman, and her friendship with Ty. Was it from her? And if it was, why would Tyler keep those notes secret? He wasn’t doing anything wrong. I mean, it wasn’t like he was my real boyfriend. This was fake. Temporary. I had to remember that.
“So, about those fries.” Tyler gently knocked my elbow, jolting me out of my trance.
“Let’s go eat,” I responded weakly, moving away from him to put some distance between us.
33
Nina
The train platform was perfectly decorated for Christmas. Wr
eaths hung from beautiful brick columns, and the train windows had a sheen of frost. Santa’s sleigh sat next to the train, with several fake reindeer napping around it. Christmas lights glittered, and the whole station smelled of peppermint and pine.
I stood on the platform, nervously shifting back and forth. I wore my traditional Christmas outfit — an ugly sweater featuring a penguin on a snowmobile, and on my head, a set of flashing reindeer antlers. The reason for my nervousness? She was standing next to me.
Mom wore a sweater with flashing lights in the shape of a polar bear. She adjusted the antlers perched on her head, finding the switch to turn them on. “Neen, I absolutely can’t wait to meet this so-called boyfriend of yours.”
So-called? What was that supposed to mean? I shot my mom a look.
“What?” She asked.
“So-called?” I raised my eyebrows. “Strange way to talk about my boyfriend. And you’ve met Tyler before.”
“But not as your boyfriend.” Mom rolled her eyes. “Don’t blame me for being excited — it’s not like you’re the type to have a boyfriend. And I know that you’re trying to get out of kissing Edward Stewart... Honestly, part of me wonders if this is some kind of crazy elaborate plan.”
I nearly swore. What did my mom know? If she figured out that I was faking my relationship with Tyler, everything would come crumbling down. And sure, we’d spent a lot of time together over the past month and a half, but I’d definitely not prepared him for the grilling he was about to receive. I hoped that he was as good at thinking on his feet as he seemed.
“I can assure you that our relationship is very real,” I said.
“It just seems strange that you guys are friends for so long, and then you start dating. It’s just very convenient timing, that’s all. And he is a football player…”
I bristled. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing. It’s just…”
Mom didn’t have to finish her sentence. I knew exactly what she was going to say — football stars didn’t date band geeks. Not at Beachbreak High. Or at any other high school.
I tried to act as nonchalant as possible. “Well, he definitely wants to date me. And that’s all that matters.”
“Great,” Mom said. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
It sure didn’t feel like I had nothing to worry about. That was another downside of having a super gossipy family — family dinners and events quickly turned into interrogations. And on the Christmas train, there’d be no place to hide. I hoped that Tyler was ready.
As if on cue, Tyler appeared at the end of the platform. He wore a bulky sweater with red and green pinstripes. It was so ugly that it was difficult to look at without laughing, and yet, somehow, he pulled it off. Probably his cheekbones. With a big grin on his face, he jogged over.
“There’s my favorite girlfriend,” Tyler said.
I put my hands on my hips, pretending to be angry. “I better be your only girlfriend.”
Tyler gave me a hug and kissed me on the forehead. He smelled like fresh cinnamon buns.
I leaned into his chest, really selling the hug. For my mom’s benefit. There was a hint of warmth in my cheeks as I breathed him in. There was something about a kiss on the forehead that was so intimate — almost more intimate than a kiss on the lips. It was definitely something you didn’t do with just a friend. I hoped Mom had noticed.
Who was I kidding? Of course she’d noticed. She was probably secretly recording every interaction we had.
“Mom,” I said. “You remember Tyler.”
“Absolutely,” Mom said, giving him a quick hug. “Judging from your outfit, you’re ready for Christmas?”
“Totally,” Tyler said. “Lead the way.”
We made our way through the crowded platform, and Mom handed our tickets to the attendant.
I held Tyler’s hand and whispered, “I hope you’re ready for this.”
Tyler shrugged. “How bad could it be?”
34
Nina
Inside the train, Christmas surrounded us. Bells and holly, mistletoe and garland, lights and tinsel — It was all here. The train itself was divided into four separate areas. The first hosted a professional choir singing Christmas carols. The second compartment was modeled after a gingerbread house and had several smaller gingerbread houses inside with signs encouraging you to break off a piece. Each gingerbread house was modeled after a different iconic building – the Eiffel tower, the Empire State Building, and the Taj Mahal, just to name a few.
After that, there was a Christmas restaurant offering fully-catered meals and handcrafted eggnog. And, finally, a long stretch of private passenger cabins with windows that looked out towards the passing mountains.
About twenty minutes into our trip, Tyler and I left our cabin and returned to the gingerbread compartment.
I broke off the top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I took a bite, and the gingerbread was so hard that I thought my teeth might crack. “A little stale…”
“It’s not stale,” Tyler said. “The problem is that you picked the load bearing section. If it was weak, the whole tower would come crashing down.”
“I suppose you can’t build a strong gingerbread house without strong walls.”
“And you can’t have a strong relationship without a strong foundation.” My mom’s voice carried through the train car. She smiled as she approached, put her arms around us, then grabbed her own piece of gingerbread. As she did, the tower toppled over. Mom didn’t care. “So. Tell me all about this cute little relationship you two have.”
I winced. Here it was, one of my mom’s trademark interrogations. Her voice would be polite, her questions normal. But every word she said hid a hook, and if you bit on the wrong thing, she’d reel you in and gut out your lies. My stomach fluttered with nerves. There was no way that Tyler was ready for this. And if he thought he was, if he was overconfident, that was even worse.
“When did you two start dating?” Mom asked.
Tyler and I answered simultaneously. The problem? My answer was “two months ago,” and his answer was “not that long ago.”
We exchanged a glance.
Mom raised her eyebrows. “Well? Which was it?”
Tyler smiled easily. “I guess two months doesn’t feel like a long time when you’re dating someone as awesome as Nina.”
I smiled, still feeling sick to my stomach.
Tyler looked deep into my eyes. “There was just something about her. We’ve been friends for so long and I never thought of her in that way. But then, we just had this moment.”
My mom nodded. “A moment of magic. How did it happen?”
“It was the weirdest thing,” Tyler said. “You expect this brilliant moment where your eyes meet and there are fireworks and you just know... But it wasn’t like that. I grabbed some food at the cafeteria, and I was walking across the room, and her eyes caught mine. And there was just the smallest spark. Just enough to light the kindling.”
“Oh,” Mom said, sounding disappointed with his answer. That wasn’t a surprise — she was a romantic. She was always on the lookout for the big moments, the grand gestures. Like when my dad had proposed. Two dozen roses lining either side of the staircase. And when she said yes, he carried her out the door to a horse-drawn carriage. Now that was confidence. It was a great moment, and a great story. But because of it, Mom compared every aspect of others’ relationships to that exact moment.
Which wasn’t exactly fair.
Mom took another bite of gingerbread. “So, you just decided. While walking across the cafeteria.”
Tyler seemed to pick up on how disappointed my mom was with his answer. “That wasn’t how I asked her out. That’s just how I knew that I wanted to.”
Mom’s piercing gaze flicked between me and Tyler. “How did you ask her out then?”
“In the most romantic way possible,” Tyler said. “I sent her a text.”
I snorted a laugh. Mom nearly
choked on her gingerbread, some tension leaving her shoulders. That was one of the many things that I liked about Tyler — he had this great way of undercutting tense moments with a quick joke.
Tyler grinned. “Don’t worry — I didn’t actually send her a text to ask her out.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It was an email.”
Mom laughed.
“So how did you actually do it?” Mom asked.
“Zoe told me how much your family loves Christmas, so I thought that the best way to ask her out was with something Christmas-related,” Tyler said. “I bought a couple of strands of Christmas lights and I hung them along the lockers at Beachbreak. I wanted them to spell out: ‘Nina, you are one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. You’re smart, you’re funny, and you’re the best trumpet player in the world. I would love to take you on a date.’ Then, I was going to sync the lights to her favorite song.”
“So the lights would flash,” my mom said approvingly.
“Exactly. But…”
“But?”
“I didn’t measure my Christmas lights properly,” Tyler said. “So, I didn’t have enough for the complete sentence. All I had could do was: ‘Date?’”
My mom looked at me, smiling. “And you said yes?”
“Nope,” Tyler said. “She said ‘November twelfth.’”
I laughed and shrugged. “I thought he wanted to know what day it was.”
I couldn’t believe how well this was going — how amazingly calm Tyler was under pressure. And where did he come up with that story? All of those sweet things that he said about me? Did he mean them? Was I the most amazing person he’d met? I fought off the idea — I needed to get a hold of myself. He was just helping me out. He didn’t actually believe those things.
“And then, for your first date, you went to the Christmas tree decorating contest?”
“Yes,” I said at the same time as Tyler said, ”no.”
Ugh. Things had been going so well. I fumbled for an excuse for our mismatched answers, but nothing was coming. I smiled weakly.