New Year's Kiss

by Lee Matthews

  “So…did you catch him? Is he okay? And how did your leg get broken?”

  “Oh, he’s okay. But our positioning was all wrong and he kind of fell on top of me. That’s how I broke my leg.”

  “That’s unreal.”

  “Yeah, it totally is.” He paused and smiled widely at me. “Because it’s actually not even a little bit true.”

  My jaw dropped. I didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or hit the guy. “You made it up?”

  He lifted one shoulder. “It’s better than the real story.”

  “Which is?”

  “Some idiot shoved me into a nasty patch of ice on a snowboard run on Christmas morning, and I ran into a tree and ended up in the hospital.”

  I swatted his arm.

  “Ow! Hey!” He covered the spot I’d hit with one hand, as if I’d actually hurt him. “You can’t beat on the injured.”

  “You may be injured, but you’re also a big fat liar,” I said with a laugh. I sat back again, the crackling fire warming the left side of my face. “Seriously, though. Good story. You should tell that to everyone.”

  “Oh, I have been. People around here are calling me a hero. One lady even brought me cake.” He gestured at a plate full of yellow crumbs.

  I laughed again and shook my head at him. It felt good to laugh for real. It was something I hadn’t done in a long time.

  “I felt so guilty I told her the truth. But she let me keep it anyway.”

  “She did?”

  He raised his palms. “Said she appreciates a good storyteller. So. What’s your deal? Why was your sister all over you like that?”

  I shot him a dubious glance. “You really want to know?”

  “I’ve literally got nothing else going on.” He looked me up and down. “Unless…you also brought me cake.”

  I raised my hands to indicate my utter lack of cake, but I kind of wished I had some. I hadn’t exactly eaten much at dinner, and now my stomach grumbled. But I supposed I could deal with that later. “Sorry. Well, if I’m going to tell you my sob story, you better tell me your name first.”

  “I’m Christopher Callahan,” he said, and reached out a hand.

  I shook it, and my mouth went dry. Total arm tingles. Tingles everywhere, actually. A slight blush rose on Christopher’s face and he held my gaze, the long lashes on those green-green eyes fluttering slightly. He had the tiniest bit of sunburn on his otherwise perfect nose.

  “Tess Sachs,” I replied.

  And then I told him everything.

  I basically floated back to my room. Christopher and I had spent two hours chatting and watching videos on his computer before his mother came along and introduced herself to me, then told Christopher he needed his rest. She thanked me for keeping her “daredevil kid” company, then produced a wheelchair and carted him back to his room. But before that happened, it was basically the best conversation I’d ever had. Christopher was amazing. He was funny and kind and a good listener. He never interrupted my stories to tell one of his own. It was all so easy but at the same time so exciting. Because basically every time he looked at me, I melted. It would have been embarrassing if there had been anyone I knew around to witness it.

  There was also the fact that Christopher was, well, beautiful. Way better looking than Tarek. Half the time we were together, I had been checking the door to see if Lauren had come back yet. I one hundred percent enjoyed hanging out with Christopher, but if Lauren saw us together, it would be like winning bonus points. Unfortunately, Lauren had never come back. In fact, it was after ten and she still wasn’t back, which was totally against Loretta’s house rules. Lauren was going to be in big trouble if Loretta found out.

  But then, the chances Loretta would find out were slim to none. I hadn’t seen my grandmother once all night, even though she’d mandated that we attend that particular dinner, going so far as to send one of her employees to make sure we got there. Why hadn’t she shown up? When Lauren and I had looked over the schedule she’d left for us, we’d both assumed that if something was mandatory, that meant she would be there, too.

  Maybe she was counting on Tarek to keep an eye on us tonight. Loretta’s employees were nothing if not loyal. Was it possible that Tarek would tell Loretta we’d both bailed on dinner? He wouldn’t have to confess his own involvement if he didn’t want to.

  I tugged out my phone to text my sister a warning but then heard Lauren’s voice in my head telling me what a goody-goody I was. Clenching my jaw, I shoved my phone back in my pocket. I’d have bet a million dollars that Lauren hadn’t thought about the consequences of bailing once since she’d walked out the door.

  “Not my problem,” I said to myself.

  I used my key card to enter our room and flopped down on my back in the middle of my bed, a huge smile on my face. I couldn’t stop smiling. And it felt as if it had been months since I’d smiled at all. Christopher had done this to me. He’d made me feel special. He’d made me feel seen. Most guys—hell, most people—always seemed to be looking around to see if there was anyone better or cooler to talk to, or worse—texting better, cooler people on their phones. I mean, I had friends, don’t get me wrong, but it was a small circle, and we weren’t exactly rolling in the cool party invites. But Christopher had been utterly focused on me. He’d commiserated when I’d told him about my parents and detailed how much Christmas had sucked, knowing it was the last time we would all wake up on Christmas morning together, in our house. And why did Lauren have to be such a bitch? Wasn’t divorce the sort of thing that was supposed to make siblings bond? Instead, Lauren seemed to get meaner by the day.

  Christopher had listened to it all. And he hadn’t looked at his phone once. Nor had he pointed out how much worse his Christmas morning had been than mine, which would have been completely valid, considering he’d broken his leg and ended up in the hospital.

  Ugh. Maybe I had been a tad self-centered, actually. Tomorrow I would bring him some of that gingerbread cake from the Best Bean Café and ask him to tell me all about his sucky Christmas.

  I had just sat up to get ready for bed when my phone rang. My heart sank when I saw the caller ID. It was my mother. I hesitated for half a second, then hit Ignore. If I talked to my mom right now, it would just ruin my good mood, and I’d earned a little bit of holiday cheer, hadn’t I? My mother expected me to act like everything was normal and like she’d done nothing wrong, but it was such a lie. My mom was the whole reason my parents were getting divorced. For the past year, she’d been grumpy and surly and sometimes completely dismissive of my dad. Even on the nights when it was clear Dad was trying really hard to be sweet or romantic, like when he brought home flowers or ordered takeout so my mom wouldn’t have to cook, it was like nothing registered with her. TV shows and commercials were always saying that marriage was hard work, but if that was the case, it seemed like my dad had done all the heavy lifting.

  Maybe if my mom had tried, even a little, we wouldn’t be going through all this heartache.

  I changed into clean pajamas and brushed my teeth, looking into my eyes in the mirror and watching them shine every time I thought about Christopher. A giggle escaped through all the toothpaste foam. I couldn’t help it. I wished I’d taken a picture of him so I could show it to Lauren when she finally got back. But maybe I could do one better and introduce the two of them tomorrow. Christopher had said he’d likely be in the same place all day while his parents visited friends nearby. He’d begged off due to his leg, and his parents seemed in the mood to let him have his way right now, what with the fact that his whole holiday break had been ruined. Not to mention his basketball season.

  “A basketball player,” I breathed as I crawled into bed. None of the basketball players at my school even knew I existed.

  Before I turned out the light, I checked my phone one last time to see if my sister had texted, but there
was nothing other than a new voice mail from my mom, which I also ignored. My head had just hit the pillow when there was a sharp rap on the door, and it opened.

  I sat up in bed and yelped. Loretta stood there, backlit by the hallway lights.

  “Loretta!” I blurted out in surprise. “What the—”

  “Did you two leave dinner early?” Loretta flicked on the lights and blinked. She took in Lauren’s empty bed and paled. “Where is your sister?” she demanded.

  My shoulders tensed and my brain started to formulate a lie, but really, what good would it do? Nothing I could say would change the fact that Lauren was not here. And besides, I shouldn’t have to lie for Lauren. Why was my sister always putting me in this position?

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly.

  “You don’t know?” Loretta was incredulous.

  “No!” I shouted, shocking even myself. “I don’t know. She left, okay? And I don’t know where she went. I’m not her keeper. And why are you yelling at me? I’m the one who’s here, in my bed, where I’m supposed to be!”

  Loretta relaxed her grip on the doorknob, stepped inside, and closed the door quietly behind her. Her posture completely changed as she lowered herself onto the edge of Lauren’s bed, facing me. She looked small in that pose, and older somehow. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was yelling. It’s simply that your parents asked me to take care of you, and I can’t do that if you’re out running around all over town.”

  “Well, again, I didn’t go anywhere,” I grumbled.

  Loretta gave me a wan smile. “I apologize. And I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the dinner this evening. I did try. It’s one of my favorite nights of the year. Unfortunately I was tied up with a legal matter that needed my immediate attention.”

  “Legal matter?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  She waved a hand dismissively, but I could tell something was up. “It will be fine. We have to deal with this sort of thing all the time. It’s nothing to worry about.”

  I was about to ask for more info, and maybe even suggest she call my dad, when the door flew open and Lauren came whirling in. “Tess! You’re never going to believe this! Adam Michel is going to be at the—”

  She stopped in her tracks and went silent the second she saw Loretta.

  “What about Adam Michel?” I asked, my pulse racing. Adam Michel was my favorite singer in the entire world. Adam is going to be at the what? But then Loretta stood up stiffly, and I knew that this was not the time.

  “You told on me?” Lauren seethed, glaring at me. Her expression had morphed from excited to murderous in two point five seconds. Kind of impressive, actually.

  “What!” I said. “No! She—”

  “Then what is Loretta doing here?” Lauren snapped, throwing her bag into the corner, where half its contents spilled out. She, of course, didn’t even seem to notice. “I didn’t show up at ten on the dot, so you called her?”

  “No! Oh my God. Why do you always blame me?” I shouted, throwing off my sheets and standing up. “I was just going to bed and she walked right in demanding to know where you were!”

  Loretta let out a sharp whistle that brought both me and Lauren up short. We exchanged a look, like what the hell was that? As far as I could recall, Loretta had never whistled in her life.

  “Excuse me, she is right here!” Loretta shouted. “And she would appreciate it if you’d stop talking about her like she is not.”

  Lauren shifted from foot to foot, looking at the carpet. My heart was pounding painfully.

  “Now, you two listen to me and listen good.” Loretta put her hands out, palms down. “This is not how this week is going to go. I will not have you fighting. You are my guests—and you represent this family and this hotel, and I expect you to behave as such.” She leveled a threatening stare at each of us, first Lauren, then me. “From this moment on, you will stick to your schedule and you will not leave this property without running it by me first. Is that understood?”

  Wow. Way to be a dictator, Grandma, I thought.

  “Yes,” I said quietly.

  Lauren huffed and looked away.

  “I said, is that understood?” Loretta demanded.

  “Yes! Fine! Whatever!” Lauren groused, throwing her hands up and letting them slap back down at her sides. “Can we just go to bed now?”

  “Yes, you may.” Loretta kissed me on the forehead, then walked over to Lauren, who, shockingly, allowed Loretta to do the same to her. “Good night,” Loretta said. Then she slipped out and closed the door silently behind her.

  “Thanks a lot,” Lauren grumbled in my direction. But there wasn’t a ton of venom behind it this time, so instead of fighting her, I just got into bed and rolled over onto my side, turning my back to my sister. Lauren went into the bathroom, slammed the door, and turned on the shower full blast.

  So much for telling Lauren all about Christopher and the butterflies he inspired. And what was all that about Adam Michel? I took a deep breath and huffed it out, staring at the closed curtains across the window, my pulse still racing. I tried to think about Christopher, to reignite that good mood I’d been in, like, five minutes ago. But it didn’t work. There was no recovering from the wrath of my sister.

  “I thought it might be nice for the three of us to go shopping for New Year’s Eve dresses together,” Loretta said as she spread jam onto a scone the next morning, “so I took this afternoon off.”

  I stopped with a forkful of pancakes halfway to my mouth. Shopping was so not my thing. But I was sure Lauren would be up for it. There wasn’t a store my sister didn’t love to raid or a wallet she didn’t live to empty. But even Lauren groaned under her breath. Loretta shot her a half-admonishing, half-disappointed look, but my sister just slumped down farther in her chair. And she calls me the immature one.

  “That sounds like fun,” I said, forcing a smile. “I didn’t bring any dresses, so I could definitely use something new.”

  “Well, I’m all good. I brought tons of dresses,” Lauren said.

  “Still, I think it would be nice for the three of us to go out together,” Loretta said. “Lauren, you can help your sister choose something. And since when do you ever turn down free clothes?”

  I smirked. Clearly Loretta had been paying attention. For the past ten or so years, Lauren had used every birthday and Christmas to get some sort of coat or boots or jewelry out of Loretta, who (A) seemed to have an endless cash flow, and (B) had impeccable taste. Which meant that it wasn’t the prospect of shopping that was making Lauren groan; it was the prospect of spending time with me and Loretta.

  “I’m going to go get some more bacon,” I said, shoving my chair back from the table. I needed a breather from all this together time, especially if today was going to be nothing but that. On my way back up to the buffet, I saw Christopher and his parents enter the restaurant, Christopher balanced on a pair of crutches with his broken leg crooked beneath him. As if drawn by magnets, Christopher’s eyes met mine, and he smiled. My heart flopped over and started panting. If possible, he was even better looking in the bright sunlight than he’d been last night.

  Christopher paused to say something to his parents; then the two of them went over to the chef at the omelet station while Christopher made his way over to me on his crutches. He was wearing a red turtleneck under a flannel shirt, and his blond hair hung over one eye.

  “Good morning,” he said, and looked down at my empty plate. “Firsts or seconds?”

  It took me a beat to comprehend the question, but then I laughed. “Oh, seconds. I need more bacon.”

  “Don’t we all?” he joked.

  “Well, actually, I didn’t need more bacon. I just needed to get away from my family for five seconds.” I cast a look over to the table where Loretta and Lauren were sitting, except Loretta was gone, her place
cleaned, and Lauren was slumped down staring at her phone. Look up, I urged her silently. See how not-lame I am over here talking to a cute guy.

  Lauren did not comply. Instead, she chuckled at something on her screen and began rapid-fire texting.

  “I hear that,” Christopher said. “Come on, let’s get on line. I’m starved.”

  We made our way over to what I thought of as the Carb Section—where all the pancakes, French toast, waffles, and croissants were displayed. Christopher made a move to grab a plate, but it quickly became clear that there was no way for him to get food and maneuver with his crutches.

  “I’ve got it,” I offered, grabbing a plate for him. “Just tell me what you want.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled a heart-stopping smile and tossed his long bangs out of his eyes. “Guess I’m going to need an assist at meals for a while.”

  I looked away before he could see my extreme blush. “You upgraded from the wheelchair, huh?”

  Christopher looked down at one crutch, then the other. “Yeah. But these things are murder on my underarms, and I’ve already lost my balance a few times.”

  “You get used to it pretty quick. You’d be surprised.” I reached for a pair of tongs. “Pancakes?”

  “Sure.” Christopher raised his eyebrows. “When were you on crutches?”

  “Oh, I used to skateboard,” I said, waving the tongs like it was no big deal. I put some syrup in a little cup and added it to the plate. “But then I broke my ankle attempting a three-sixty in a competition, and it was not pretty. I kind of quit after that.”

  My face flushed. I hated admitting that I’d quit. My father had tried so hard to get me back on the board, telling me it was heartbreaking to see me give up on something I loved so much. I felt the same way about my parents and their marriage.

  “Do you want a waffle?”

  “Uh, yes, please,” Christopher replied. “And some of that strawberry sauce.”

  I piled it all onto the plate.

  “Well. That sucks,” Christopher said of my skateboarding injury. He looked me up and down quickly, as if trying to picture me on a skateboard. “When was this?”