No sane person should be forced to get up before the sun.
Murphy’s alarm buzzed her awake. Groaning, she pushed the “off” button. Oh, the things she did for a day out—for a day where she didn’t feel so much like Cinderella and more like a normal student going in to town. She wiped a string of drool from her chin and tugged her espresso colored hair into a braid.
In order to help Mrs. Potts with the morning chores, not forgetting to check that Mr. Gruber would be ready to go by seven, the early hour was a necessity.
A hiss escaped past Murphy’s lips when her feet hit the icy floor. Grabbing the clothes she’d laid out the night before, she dressed quickly. The smell coffee and blueberry pancakes wafting in from the kitchen caused her stomach to growl.
“Good morning, Mrs. Potts,” Murphy slumped down on a chair at the oversized farm table the staff used. She looked up at the paned windows sat high up on the walls. They normally let in natural light but this morning they were still dark. It was so early.
“Good morning, dear.” Mrs. Potts put a cup of steaming coffee in front of Murphy and turned back to the industrial stove to stack pancakes on a plate.
The back door swung open letting in a blast of cold air and Mr. Gruber stepped in from outside stomping mud off his boots onto the brick floor.
“Good morning, Amos. Get in here and shut that door. You’re freezing the living daylights out of us.”
Murphy ducked her head to keep from laughing at Mrs. Potts mixed up metaphors.
“Good morning, Carol. Murphy, you ready for this? It’s a cold one today and I’m not sure it’s going to get much warmer.” Mr. Gruber peeled out of his jacket and hung it on a hook by the door. He sat opposite Murphy and Mrs. Potts placed a heaping stack of pancakes in front of him. He clapped his hands together before grabbing his fork and diving in, chasing his bite with a gulp of coffee. “I think I’m going to start defrosting the bus a bit earlier this morning,” he said around a mouthful.
As much as Murphy was looking forward to going into town, she was not looking forward to the cold. Why did she have to live somewhere where frost hung in the air six months out of the year? When she graduated, she was moving to the beach — or at least somewhere it didn’t dip into freezing temps.
Carrying her empty plate to the sink, Murphy set about helping Mrs. Potts prep the grab-and-go breakfast in the mess hall for the remaining students, most of whom would be leaving on the bus with her and Mr. Gruber. Murphy was just putting out the last carafe of coffee when the first students started stumbling in in various stages of dress. Iverson’s strict dress code was lax at the first hint of break.
“Excuse me, could you pass the vanilla bean creamer?"
Murphy’s eyes slid closed at the warm voice behind her. She imagined his arms encircling her, kissing her cheek as his breath tickled her ear with a whispered good morning. She would turn and, the creamer forgotten, she’d greet him with a kiss that—
A tap on her shoulder. “Um, excuse me? The creamer?”
Embarrassed, Murphy grabbed the bottle of creamer and spun to face Tripp Harrington. Dressed in dark jeans, loafers, and a blue sweater that only pulled out the blue of his eyes even more, he was the definition of handsome. His hair was that perfect kind of mussed. Like maybe he’d just rolled out of bed, finger combed some gel through it and called it good.
Murphy’s elbow bumped the impossibly firm midsection of her crush, the bottle of creamer landing on the floor with a thud. It splashed up on Tripp’s jeans and splattered across the floor leaving a white river of sticky goo.
“Waffles!” Murphy grabbed a rag from the table and bent to wipe up the mess.
“Waffles?” Tripp picked up the now empty bottle and handed it to her.
Murphy could feel her face heat. She tucked her chin hoping Tripp couldn’t see the bright red blooming on her cheeks. Growing up her dad hated anything resembling a curse word. Waffles was their expletive they used for everything.
“Wait. Don’t I know you? Murphy, right?”
“Yeah,” Murphy mumbled.
“Aren’t you in Dr. Roberts’ biology class?”
Murphy’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure it was going to beat right out of her chest. She was in Dr. Roberts’ biology class. She sat at the lab table next to his. “I’m in that class.” She confirmed, handing him the rag. When he looked at her quizzically, she pointed to the white creamer splashed on his shoes and soaking into the bottom of his jeans.
Tripp chuckled as he took the rag from her and their fingers brushed. He proceeded with some story about dissecting frogs and their smell, but she didn’t really hear him. Her fingers still tingled where they had met his. She was certain she was going to die.
“Sorry again about your creamer,” she cut into his story.
He stood back up, handing her the now sticky rag. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
Murphy’s face was on fire.
"Tripp, darling, did you get my coffee?" Claire's honey voice tittered through the air, grating over Murphy’s nerves.
Don't come over here. Don't come over here.
“What seems to be the problem?" Each staccatoed heel tap pounding out impending doom. “Oh, it's you. Making messes instead of cleaning them up?” Claire sidled up next to Tripp, threading her arm through his.
“Aww no, babe, it wasn't her fault. I just —”
“Don't take up for Cinderella,” Claire practically spit out in a sing song voice. Sweet with a bite.
Murphy ducked her head. Could she melt into the floor now?
“Claire—"
“Come on, Trippy, darling,” Claire cut in yanking him away. “I don't really feel like coffee anymore. I think juice will do fine this morning.”
Murphy could feel the eyes of all the students in the mess hall as she went back to cleaning the sticky mess. She clenched her jaw refusing to cry and add to her humiliation. Claire would be gone for three weeks, she reminded herself. Three blissful weeks.
Murphy wasn't sure why it was that Claire seemed to hate her so much. She let her mind wander to the future when she would leave Iverson, Claire, and Mistress Hyde behind. It would be her and the open road. No one to tell her what to do or to make her life miserable. She would travel to all the places she and her father pinned on their map, writing about her adventures along the way. One day she hoped to be able to publish a book of the essays along with stories from growing up with her dad, complete with glossy photos, highlighting all the places they had planned on visiting.
"Hey, Murph, you ok?" Emmaline squatted down next to Murphy with a clean rag, helping her mop at the mess on the floor.
Murphy sniffed and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. She sat back on her heels. "I'm fine. Thanks, Ems. You'd better let me finish cleaning up the mess, or we'll both end up in trouble."
Emmaline rolled her eyes. "It's officially the beginning of the holiday. I can't get in trouble for helping you clean up a mess. Those rules don't apply today."
"Knowing Mistress Hyde, she'll hear something from her lurking brown nosers and we'll be in trouble — holiday rules or no." Murphy sighed. This was her life.
"Then I'll get Daddy's team of lawyers on it. Because that's just ridiculous." Emmaline's green eyes flashed, helping Murphy clean up the mess.
Murphy didn’t care if Emmaline and Claire could easily pass as sisters. That’s where the similarities ended. Where Claire was all brash and haughty, Emmaline was kind and unpretentious.
Murphy took the sopping towels to the kitchen and deposited them in the sink. She glanced at her watch relieved to see the bus bell would be sounding in exactly… three ... two ... one ...
The mess hall cleared out, everyone running to either do very last-minute packing or to make sure they didn't miss any important luggage.
Murphy stopped in her room to grab her tattered copy of The Great Gatsby. She had already read it seven or maybe eight times—something like that, and the trip to and from town was
the perfect time to get ahead on Dr. Suna’s winter break assignment. She pulled a wool hat on and grabbed her coat, stuffing her arms in without slowing. Having to clean up the creamer mess had put her behind schedule. She needed to make sure Mr. Gruber didn't need any help so they could get on the road.
As much as she wasn’t a fan of the cold, when the New England winter wonderland appeared, she knew it would be beautiful—if it came at all this year. Normally, by this time, they would have had a couple of good snows. This year the weather was just being weird. If it was going to be this cold, there should at least be the white stuff.
Murphy breathed in the icy cold air and let it out slowly. Everything smelled so clean. Or maybe her nose was just so frozen she couldn’t pick up any other scents. She tromped over the sidewalk, taking note that Mr. Gruber had already salted the path to where the school's white bus stood waiting.
“Good morning, Mr. G. Need any help?" Murphy shoved her book into her large jacket pocket and picked up a piece of luggage off the roll cart.
“There’s my favorite girl. I think I’m good out here.” Mr. Gruber took the suitcase from Murphy and threw it in the luggage compartment. “I got your seat ready if you want to get settled. I'll finish this right up, there's only a few left.” His smile lit up under his white mustache. “Look, here come the students.”
Murphy turned to see a crowd of students coming up the sidewalk. All of them carrying an assortment of pillows, phones, and tablets. A couple of the boys had last minute trash bags full of nearly forgotten items slung over their shoulders.
She climbed in the bus and settled into her spot behind the driver. She smiled to herself when she saw the quilt Mr. Gruber had laid on her seat. He knew she ran cold. Even with the bus's heater at full blast, it still couldn't quite knock the chill from the New England air.
Students climbed in one after another claiming seats. Emmaline slid into the seat across from Murphy, plopping a large purse next to her so she didn't have to share.
When Claire walked by Tripp wasn’t far behind. He was playing a game of catch, tossing a paper ball back and forth with his best friend’s Nick and Jude. On her way past, Claire bent to mutter a derogatory statement low enough for only Murphy to hear. Murphy’s cheeks burned. She swallowed, grateful that no one else had heard. Murphy sank lower in her seat, burrowing under the quilt. Sticks and stones...
Emmaline reached across the aisle and squeezed Murphy's arm. "You ok?" she mouthed, obviously not hearing Claire’s mutterings. She had an entire 23 days, 3 hours, and 29 minutes give or take, where she would be Claire free — not that she had been counting.
She nodded back at her friend, grossed out when Claire pulled Tripp to a seat far back in the bus a knowing look in her eye. She probably wanted to make out all the way to the train station — as long as they didn’t get caught.
The last of the students clambered on and Mr. Gruber followed with his clipboard. He did a head count and roll call before closing the doors, always wanting to be thorough.
The white beast lurched into drive, and they started the ten-minute glorified downhill roll to the train station.
During the trip Mr. Gruber had to get on to two couples for making out and another group who were playing a rowdy game of “Would You Rather?” Murphy, ignoring the loud bus, looked out her window not caring that, after this trip once, you’d seen all there was to Ash Hollow. Murphy loved the rolling hills, thick romantic woods, and large estates. She thought the students were crazy for passing up this beauty, looking for other ways to stay occupied during the drive.
Once they got going, Emmaline scooted across the aisle and climbed under the blanket with Murphy. Mr. Gruber only shot them a warning frown for switching seats while the bus was moving. They spent the rest of the trip sharing a Toblerone bar and making video chat plans for the break.
Emmaline promised she would send postcards too add to Murphy’s growing collection tacked on the wall next to her world map. Murphy always fought jealousy mixed with excitement for Emmaline every time her parents pulled her out of school so she could travel with them.
The train station was bubbling with activity. The cold didn't stop anyone from leaving Ash Hollow to travel into New York City. Mr. Gruber pulled up to the curb and the students disembarked in a slow single file. With Murphy's help, Mr. Gruber unloaded the luggage compartment. Students grabbed their suitcases, Gucci and Louis Vuitton rolling toward the check-in station, until all items were accounted for.
"I'm going to go park in the thirty-minute parking for a rest. You take your time saying goodbyes. Just find me when you're done." Mr. Gruber leaned over and whispered in Murphy's ear. "I'll be in the big white bus." He winked and chuckled at his own joke.
Murphy smiled and jogged with light feet to catch up with Emmaline, careful not to slip on the icy platform that hadn’t been salted yet.
Nick, Jude, and Tripp were finding bigger patches of ice and seeing how far they could slide down the platform. Two would wait on the opposite end and pretend to push the other toward the tracks.
"Oh, Nick, Jude, stop it!" Claire squealed. "You're going to push him out on the track and the train’s coming!"
Murphy reached Emmaline who rolled her eyes at her cousin's dramatics.
"I'm surprised the station master hasn't come out here and told them to stop. It does seem a little dangerous." While she wasn't about to squeal about it like Claire, Murphy was also a little worried one of them, not just Tripp, would end up breaking something.
She watched Claire push her bottom lip out, eyes filling with tears. Tripp fell into the well-laid trap. “Babe, I'm fine." Tripp raised his arms on either side and pulled Claire into an embrace. She giggled ridiculously when he kissed her.
Murphy's stomach clenched.
How many times had she dreamed of being in a relationship? Of being in Claire's place. It didn't have to be Tripp. Although if Tripp Harrington ditched Claire tomorrow and declared his undying love for Murphy she would totally and completely take him up on it. She wanted to be wanted. She wanted to belong.
She shook her head side to side trying to get the toxic thoughts out of her mind. What was she thinking? She was Murphy Cain. She didn't need anyone, especially not a boy. She was going to graduate from Iverson, with honors, and travel the world. By herself. With no one. No one to tell her what she could or couldn't do. Where she should or shouldn't go. What she should want in life. She didn’t need a boy holding her back.
Not needing a man was a truth Murphy believed, but there was more to Tripp than he let on. He was more than just the cute playboy rich kid everyone thought. She liked to think she saw below his surface layer. He was kind to her. While most of the students would rather pretend that Murphy was invisible, Tripp smiled at her in the hall. Made eye contact when he waved hello. Those blue eyes of his always turned Murphy’s insides to jelly.
She needed to stop thinking about him. He was only a crush. And that was all he ever could be. She wasn’t a part of that crowd.
"Earth to Murphy," Emmaline waved her hand back and forth in front of Murphy's face. "Please tell me you aren't wishing that was you. That's disgusting."
"What? No." Murphy would deny wanting Tripp to her dying days.
"Good, because you went all starry eyed for a minute and you were starting to scare me."
Murphy put her hands deeper into her pockets. She blew out a breath just so she could watch it dance in front of her face.
"Last call!" The conductor moved through the sea of students shouting a summons for final boarding.
"Well, this is it." Murphy rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.
"Last chance, Murph. Sure you can't just sneak aboard?" Emmaline pleaded, smiling at her joke, but also wishing it were possible.
"If I leave with you now, Mr. G will sleep the entire holiday away in short term parking. Not to mention I don't have a ticket." Murphy stuffed her hands in her pockets.
“Maybe if you crouch down and hoot, I
can pass you off as my owl.”
Murphy raised an eyebrow at her friend. "An owl? Really, Em?"
"What? You’re small enough.“ Emmaline shrugged her shoulders. "I'm trying."
"I know you are." Murphy pulled her into a hug.
Emmaline pulled back, mouth pulled down in a frown. “I just hate you having to stay at Iverson all by yourself over the holiday. It's a holiday for crying out loud.”
“I know. I'll be fine. I have Mr. G and Mrs. P, and the place isn't a total ghost town. Floyd and Lloyd are staying the entire break this year.”
“The Taylor twins don’t count. They will literally hide in their room the entire three weeks planning all their pranks for next semester and building video games. Their take-out will permeate the place along with enormous amounts of B.O.”
Emmaline was right. But there was nothing she could do. She had to stay at Iverson and continue to work through the holiday. It was the deal. “You'd better hurry. The train is about to leave.” Murphy said, pushing her friend forward.
With one more hug and a promise to video call as soon as she got to Paris, Emmaline rushed to board. A warning whistle sounding as she settled into her compartment, waving her goodbyes at Murphy.
Per tradition, Murphy would stay until the train was out of the station.
The engine began pulling away when Murphy saw Tripp jump off the step and onto the platform. For one heartbeat, she thought he was coming toward her. That he’d finally realized Claire wasn’t the girl for him. Murphy was. Who cared that they weren’t even in the same league? He was going to take her into his arms and kiss her slowly as the train pulled away—steam all around them—just like in the movies.
“Hurry, Tripp, I left it on the bench!” Claire’s screechy voice sounded from the window breaking Murphy out of her daydream. She caught a glimpse of Claire posing for a selfie with her two best friends, trusting Tripp to get her bag and be able to get back on the train.
Watching, eyes wide, the moment played out before her. Tripp slipped in the stylishly impractical loafers looking like a doe on ice. Still, he managed to stay vertical. He grabbed the bag and turned to dash back to the train.
It Happened at Christmas Page 2