My New Crush Gave to Me
Page 5
I perched myself on the edge of a leather recliner and looked around the room. There was a large fireplace with pictures of J.D. and what I’m guessing were his parents and older sister lining the top. In the corner of the room were two boxes that said Christmas decorations, but they hadn’t been unpacked, and there was no tree in sight.
J.D. must have seen where I was looking. “We get our tree about a week or two before the holiday, so it doesn’t lose its needles,” he said.
“Wait. You get a Douglas?! Why? A Fraser fir will last a lot longer, and you can put it up so much earlier.”
He gave me that smirk of his again. “Is this what you came to talk about? My family’s choice of tree?”
“No, sorry.” I had very strong opinions when it came to Christmas trees. But I really wasn’t one to talk. Not this year.
“So are you going to tell me this secret of yours? What do you want from me?”
“Your help,” I said. “I picked Teo’s name for the Secret Santa, and I want to get him things he’ll really like. And I don’t know where to start.”
J.D. was sitting kitty-corner to me, on a comfy-looking, copper-colored couch. “I was right,” he said, shaking his head. “You do have a crush on him.”
“I do not. I just want to be a good Secret Santa.”
He wasn’t buying it.
He sat back on the couch in one of those power poses with his hands behind his head. “Sure,” he said. “That’s why you’re willing to come talk to someone you can’t stand, because you want to be a nice gift giver?”
“Fine. Whatever. Maybe I have a small crush. And I never said I can’t stand—” I stopped myself. We both knew that wasn’t true. J.D. and I couldn’t even talk newspaper stuff without Morgan in the room as a go-between. “We just have different visions for the paper. It’s not personal.”
“You sure about that?” he asked.
I ignored his question. “Are you going to help me or not?”
“What’s in it for me again?”
“I told you,” I said, holding out the cookies. “These.”
He shook his head. “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”
“Fine, every batch of baked goods we make for our company for the next month, we’ll save you some. Sound good?”
“Not even close.”
“Two months?”
He shook his head again.
He was so annoying. “What do you want, then?”
J.D. leaned in closer to me. “I want full editorial control of all the photos that go into the holiday edition of the paper. And that includes a full-page photo spread.”
“No way.”
He leaned back into the couch. “Then I guess Teo is going to get some pretty bad presents from his Secret Santa. I bet he’ll be really disappointed. You know, I think he dumped his last girlfriend because she gave him a crappy birthday gift.”
“Ha-ha,” I said. I knew he was lying. I knew he was just trying to egg me on. But I also knew he had me in a tight spot. He was the key to what I really wanted. “How about,” I offered, “we include the photo spread, but I have final say on what goes in it?”
“Pass,” he said.
“I can’t give you full control.”
“Actually, you can. What do you think I’m going to put in there?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, and before I realized it, I was standing up. “Maybe cheerleading tryout photos that show no cheerleaders.”
“I told you, the one with just the pom-poms in the air was a better photo. The composition, the lighting—”
“People like seeing themselves in the paper. They pick it up hoping they’ll be in it.”
“They have GroupIt and every other social media platform in the world for that,” he said, jumping up. “My photo represented all of the people who tried out, not just a select few.”
“But I told you what I wanted. It wasn’t your call to make.”
“And that’s why,” he said, “I want full control. I’m a good photographer. I’m good with layout. I deserve this. It’s not asking a lot.”
It was to someone who liked having things done a very particular way. But maybe it didn’t have to be my vision all the time. I sat back down.
“I won’t put anything ‘distasteful’ in,” he said, making air quotes, “if that’s what you’re worried about.” It wasn’t. “I’ll even listen to reasonable questions and requests,” J.D. added. “But I will have the final say. Okay?”
“If I agree to this, and I’m not saying that I am,” I countered, “then I want more than just gift guidance. I want quality time with Teo. You’ll have to help me get to know him and spend time with him.”
“I can make that happen.” He smiled, the dimple in his left cheek on full display. “Deal?”
He put out his hand, and I shook it. “Deal.”
What had I just gotten myself into?
Ten
We should go to the mall tomorrow and pick out the first gift, I texted J.D. later that night.
K, he wrote back.
What time? I asked.
I don’t know. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.
Seriously, tomorrow?! I need a time, I typed back. So I can plan accordingly.
I could almost feel him rolling his eyes at me through the phone, but I wasn’t trying to be difficult. I just wasn’t one for playing things by ear. Not having a locked-in schedule made me feel antsy. Like my brain had an itch that, of course, was impossible to scratch.
Fine, btwn 12 & 3:30, he answered.
I squeezed the phone in my hand. He was seriously testing my last nerve. But I had to stay calm. Can you please be a little more specific?
Three little dots popped up on my phone, which meant he was typing. They disappeared but there was no message. It happened again. He was probably debating which snarky response he wanted to send.
Instead he just wrote, Have something in the morning. Not sure when I’ll be done.
I wanted to remind him that he owed me. That if he wanted to have control of the Sentinel’s photos, he needed to help me. But I knew I had no right to dictate his schedule, even if it meant me having to work around his. Still, I didn’t want to sit around all day waiting for him to call. I’d go stir crazy and get nothing done. How about we just plan for 3:30? I wrote.
Fine, whatever, he replied.
It wasn’t an ideal response, but it would do. I told him I’d pick him up, and the next day at 3:30 p.m. sharp, I pulled into his driveway and honked the horn.
Ten whole minutes later, he got in the car.
“We said 3:30,” I reminded him.
“I was backing up a project. It took longer than I thought. I didn’t want to risk losing it.”
I tutted my tongue at him.
“What? I texted you at one and said I could go to the mall earlier if you wanted. You were the one who said no, so I started work on something else.” His eyebrows furrowed together. “Stop looking at me like that. It wasn’t like I made you sit out here in the car. I invited you inside. You were the one who refused.”
I thought it would make him move faster if he knew I was waiting outside. Clearly, I was wrong. I put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway without responding.
“So you’re not going to speak to me for the rest of the day, is that it? This trip is gonna be fun.”
He had a point. And I was going to have to talk to him if I wanted to get his advice about Teo’s gifts. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll let it go. It’s just lateness is a huge pet peeve of mine. I’m always on time, and when someone else isn’t and keeps me waiting, it’s like they’re saying their time is more important than mine. It’s rude.”
We were both silent for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer than before. “I’ll try to be better.”
I nodded. “What were you working on?” I asked, trying to change the subject to something more neutral.
“I’ve been interning at this 3
-D printing company, Making Your Mark. It’s really cool. You can use one of their designs or submit your own and they print it up. It can be anything. A toy, silverware, jewelry.” He held up his phone. “I made this case.” The whole thing was plastic, but there were tiny curved lines cut out of it that added texture. I had never seen anything like it.
“That’s pretty cool.”
“It’s my fingerprint. Well,” he said, his speech getting faster. “A blown-up version of it anyway. It was a photo I took that I was able to program into the printer.”
“The company just let you do that?”
“Yeah, the people who work there are really awesome. And I guess they figure since they’re not paying me, the least they can do is teach me something and let me play around. When you showed up, I was backing up a new design I’ve been working on. I’m trying to make my mom’s Christmas gift on the printer. I’m almost ready for the test prototype stage.”
I had never seen him so excited about something. Not that we really had that many civil conversations. “Wow, impressive. I’m sure your mom will love it.”
He shrugged. “I hope so. I like to think I’m a pretty good gift giver.”
“Well, I’m pretty much counting on that,” I said as we turned into the mall parking lot. Now was his chance to prove himself. I seriously hoped he didn’t disappoint.
Eleven
Well, if Morgan had stellar parking karma, J.D. had the opposite.
He pointed to his right. “There’s a spot over there.”
“And two cars waiting for it.”
“What about on the other side of the lot?” he suggested.
“We just came from there.” I squeezed on the steering wheel to keep from shouting. We’d been going in circles for twenty minutes. The actual shopping hadn’t even started, and I was already frustrated.
“Something will open eventually.” He was annoyingly relaxed.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t going to wait for fate, I was going to create it. I pulled up to the front of the mall and rolled down my window. A man and his child had just exited. “Excuse me, sir,” I called out. “I’m hoping to grab your spot. Can you give me a heads-up which way?”
He told me, and a couple of minutes later, J.D. and I were finally parked. “See, that’s how you get things done,” I informed him.
“Says the girl who drove around for an hour before coming up with that brainstorm.”
“It wasn’t an hour, and I didn’t see you coming up with any bright ideas.” I power walked to the door, and J.D. matched my pace.
He smiled when we walked inside, but the magic of the mall and all its Christmastime glory was wasted on me. Yesterday, the twinkly lights, the winter village, the poinsettias, the miles of garland, and blasts of holiday music invigorated me; today they felt like a cruel reminder that you don’t always get what you want for Christmas. A point punctuated by the fact that I was intentionally in the mall with J.D. Ortiz.
“Let’s start with that little sports boutique,” I said. I skipped Fanmania yesterday, but now with J.D. there, it was probably my best shot to find something. Sports fanatics loved the place. It had memorabilia, autographed photos, rare cards, and more.
The mall was packed, same as yesterday, but I seemed more attuned to it today. I was sick of all the texters and people with their heads in the clouds thinking I’d move so they could walk haphazardly around without paying attention. I wasn’t having it. Yes, that meant no fewer than four people managed to bump into me as we headed to Fanmania, but so what? Maybe it would teach them a lesson. I know Morgan would have bah humbugged my attitude again. But she wasn’t here. J.D. was—which only added to my mood.
The walls of Fanmania were covered with cards and autographed pictures. We’d definitely get one, maybe even a few gifts here. Then I could get home. I clapped my hands together. “Okay, who’s Teo’s favorite player?”
“Which sport?”
“I don’t know. I guess football; that’s what he plays.”
“He plays baseball, too, when it’s the season,” J.D. said, picking up a baseball from the counter, tossing it in the air, and catching it.
“Oh, right,” I said. “Either’s fine.”
“He’s a huge fan of Manny Franco.”
“Yeah, Manny. That sounds good,” I said.
“You have no idea who that is, do you?”
I didn’t want to confess that I didn’t. I hated not knowing things. Even more so, I hated admitting it. But J.D. didn’t make me say it. He just smiled. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t either if it wasn’t for Teo and my uncle. Sports aren’t really my thing.”
I wasn’t sure why he was being so nice.
“Manny’s a retired baseball player. Played for a few teams during his career. Has three championship rings. Splits his time between Miami and Stamford now.”
“Can I help you?” the woman behind the counter asked, interrupting J.D.’s mini baseball lesson.
“Anything of Manny Franco’s?” I asked.
“A signed baseball, picture, and card. Take your pick,” she said.
They all sounded like decent options. “How about the baseball?”
She tapped the top of the display case in front of her. “It’s thirteen hundred dollars.”
“Thirteen hundred?!” I choked on the words, and J.D. carefully placed the baseball he was tossing back on the counter.
The lady winked at J.D. “Don’t worry, that one’s just a regular four-dollar baseball.”
I think I heard him breathe a sigh of relief.
“Um,” I said, “do you maybe have something of Manny’s that’s cheaper? Like maybe the baseball card?”
“That’ll still run you several hundred.”
“Okay, thank you,” I said. “I’ll think about it.” Yeah, I was going to think about how never in a million years did I think a baseball card would cost so much money. It was a piece of paper with someone’s picture and a signature. I thought it’d be twenty bucks tops.
“Well, this is about as successful as yesterday,” I said when we left the store. “I was hoping to spend twenty-five dollars, fifty max—and that was on all the gifts.”
“Come on,” he said, and started walking away from me. “Let’s go to Jordan’s.”
“I’ve already been through the whole store. I can’t afford it. There’s nothing there.”
“There’s something,” he said.
Well, he did know Teo better than I did. Maybe there was something I missed. I quickened my stride to catch up to him.
Once inside the store, J.D. walked like a man with a purpose. He really did have something in mind! For a split second, I let myself get excited. Until I saw where he stopped.
J.D. plopped himself in one of the massage chairs.
“THIS is why you wanted to come here?” I whisper-screamed, so my volume wouldn’t cause a scene. “You are supposed to be helping me shop, not sitting down on the job.”
“What? It’s just a quick break. And look how lucky—this chair was empty.”
I didn’t even have the words. I just spun around on my heels and stormed out.
He was unbelievable. I was so angry. I leaned against the railing, looking out onto the lower floor. Why couldn’t it be January already? I was so ready for this season to be over. Nothing was the way it should be. I even had to open my Advent calendar on my own. It wasn’t like it was a huge thing, but Mom and I had always done it together in the past. I picked at a bright-red bow tied around some garland and took a deep breath. Everything around me looked like Christmas, but it didn’t feel like it. Or maybe like the Grinch, my heart had become two sizes too small. Only there was nothing around to help it grow.
“Hey,” J.D. said, walking over to me. “Why are you getting so worked up?”
I yanked at the bow. “Maybe because this whole thing was a waste of time. I should never have asked you for help to begin with. I’m not going to find anything for Teo, and I’m
just going to have to deal with it.”
“You give up way too easily,” he said.
Was he serious? I turned to face him. “It’s not giving up. It’s being realistic. I don’t need to spend another three hours in the mall to know it’s hopeless.”
“Well, I could have told you this place was a waste of time.”
“Excuse me?!”
“I mean, you don’t go to the mall if you don’t want to spend money. What did you really think you’d find for five bucks a gift?”
“I don’t know.” I fought to keep my voice at a normal decibel. “If you knew we wouldn’t find anything, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you wanted to come. And have you ever tried telling someone like you something they don’t want to hear? I have. Every week at the Sentinel meetings. And you. Don’t. Listen. I figured it would be quicker to come and let you see for yourself than argue over it.”
“I listen.”
“But you don’t hear.”
I walked to the escalator, and he followed me. “I don’t even know what that means.”
He laughed. “It’s exactly this: You don’t like what someone says and you walk away. There’s no real discussion. You make up your mind, and it doesn’t matter what the other person thinks.”
“That is not true.” I turned to face him as we made our way down to the lower level. “I listen to Morgan.”
“Do you? Or does she just tell you what you want to hear?”
I was fuming. How dare he?! Morgan was my best friend. Of course I listened to her and valued her opinions. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Morgan and—”
“Charlie!”
“No, don’t you Charlie me, I—”
“Charlie!!” he raised his voice.
So typical. Here he was talking over me while claiming I was the one who didn’t listen.
“Watch it!” he yelled and reached out to grab my arm. Only it was too late. I had reached the bottom of the escalator. And seeing as I wasn’t paying any attention and was facing the wrong direction, I completely lost my footing. I stumbled back. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I tried to steady myself, but I had too much momentum going. I couldn’t stop myself. I backed right into someone. “Careful,” they hissed, shoving me away. And it wasn’t a light shove; it was hard enough to send me flying forward, right to the left of the escalator. Right into a display of about two dozen poinsettia plants set up to look like a Christmas tree.