“What? I have no idea. It doesn’t make a difference.”
“Mrs. Claus then?” he said, pulling out a little bonnet.
Maybe it made a little bit of a difference. “I don’t think so.” J.D. was not the cousin I wanted to look like I was paired up with. “What’s Teo going as?”
“Ralphie from A Christmas Story. Complete with pink one-piece bunny pajamas.”
“Stop, he is not.”
J.D. sat down on the couch. “No, he is. It was a dare, and he said if anyone could pull the costume off it was him.” That did seem like something Teo would say. I could almost picture the little glint in his eye as he accepted the challenge. But it still seemed out there.
“He’s really going as Ralphie?”
“He really is, and that’s why I think you need to step up your game. Forget Mrs. Claus. Forget Rudolph. Forget the tradition. I think you need to go all in, show that Christmas spirit, be that Christmas spirit.”
“What does that even mean?”
He pulled out an artificial wreath, with a ribbon tied around it. “It means this.”
I shot him a look. “And what am I supposed to do with that?”
“You wear it,” he said placing it on top of my head, making sure the bow that was attached to it was right in front.
“Okay, you know how I said you looked goofy, I look ludicrous.”
“That’s the whole point. The more you’re into it, the more Teo is going to be into you.”
Then he pulled out a hideous bright-red vest that was not meant for a redhead, and put it on me. “It will fit over your coat,” he said.
“Perfect,” I said, making sure he didn’t miss the sarcasm dripping from my tongue. “You sure costume design isn’t in your future?”
He pointed to the bag. “Think you can do better?” Then he broke into a huge grin. “That was a dumb question. Of course you do. You’re Charlie Donovan.”
“Don’t you forget it,” I told him. Only this time, instead of our normal bickering, this felt different. Like when you joked around with, dare I say, a friend. Wait. Was that possible? The costume was probably just rubbing off on me. “If you’re picking my costume,” I said, “I think it’s only fair that I get to pick yours.”
“Deal,” he said. “But for the record, we are not even close to done with yours.”
“In that case,” I said, “I’d better load you up with as much of this stuff as I can.” I dug through the bag, and I struck gold. “This. This is the one. You have to put it on.” It was a giant felt candy cane costume, with a little round opening at the top for your face and slits for your arms.
He grimaced. “Of course you’d find that one.”
“Why do you have this incredibly amazing stuff?”
“My sister used to do holiday plays. This one”—he pointed to the costume—“was one she wrote herself about the adventures of the Sugar Plum Fairy and her best friend, Candy Cane.”
“Oh please tell me you played the Sugar Plum Fairy.”
“Alas,” he said as he hung his head, “I didn’t. But…” He paused for dramatic effect. “I was their archnemesis, the Tooth Fairy!”
“You were not! Okay, that might be even better. Where’s that costume?” I asked.
“You’re out of luck. I was eight when I wore it, and I only did the show because my sister and her friend bribed me with as much chocolate as I could eat. I may have wiped my hands on the costume.”
“Too bad.”
“My mom thought so. She is a saver. She doesn’t throw anything out. ‘You never know when the perfect occasion will arise to use it again,’” he said, doing another really bad impression.
“You mean like right now!” I handed him the felt suit.
He took off his Santa jacket and the pillow he had belted around his waist, which revealed a tight white T-shirt that outlined the muscles on his chest. I realized I was staring and quickly turned away.
“Uh, I might need some help,” he said. I looked back to see a felt tube covering his head and the top of his shoulders, with the rest of the costume flapping over to the side.
“You might,” I said, not bothering to hide my laughter. I tried pulling the costume down, but I could only get it another few inches. “This is not budging.”
He shimmied to try to remove the costume, and he looked like one of those air dancers—the inflatable plastic tube men you see in front of car dealerships.
“Let me get it,” I said, and helped free him. His T-shirt lifted slightly. Seriously, Charlie. Stop looking at J.D. I made sure to make eye contact. Or I tried to anyway, only this time I got sidetracked by something else. “Your hair.” The costume caused some static electricity, and it was sticking out everywhere. I reached out to smooth it down and felt a jolt.
I jumped back slightly, and J.D. smiled. “Does this mean I’m back to Santa?”
“Yes,” I said, and handed him his pillow and jacket before I found myself accidentally staring at him again.
“But we still haven’t finished you,” he said.
“Please don’t make me the candy cane.”
“Don’t worry, you’re still Christmas spirit.” He looked me over, and I don’t know why, but I found myself adjusting my wreath. “I know what’s missing,” he said. Seconds later, he was attaching a giant blinking Christmas tree pin to my vest. “We’re getting there,” he said. “Just a few more touches. I know exactly the thing.” Then he went back into the bag. He pulled out reindeer ears. “No.” He pushed aside a Rudolph nose. “Not right, either.” His eyes got wide. “Now these were what I was looking for.”
I couldn’t see what he had found, but my guess was that I was not going to like it.
Was I ever right.
Twenty-Three
“I am taking these things off,” I said after I parked in front of Teo’s. I glanced in my rearview mirror. J.D. had found elf ears—and not little elf ears, ginormous ones. It was definitely not the look I was going for. “I look like that Star Trek guy.”
“Spock.”
“Yes, how is he supposed to be Christmasy?” I went to take them off.
“Leave them,” J.D. said. “They complete the look. Besides, who doesn’t love a Christmas elf? And this is nothing compared to bunny pajamas.”
He might have been right, but I didn’t care. I pulled them off, my hands jingling as I lowered my arm. J.D. had also given me little bell bracelets to wear.
I wanted to look Christmasy cute, not like I belonged on a sci-fi show. The vest and pin over my jacket, the wreath on my head, and the jingle bells were a little over the top. I looked like a Christmas tag sale had exploded all over me, but Teo would hopefully appreciate the effort.
“Say cheese,” J.D. said, following me out of the car.
“Put that camera away,” I warned him.
“Don’t you want a picture with your new boyfriend?”
“I hate having my photo taken, and he’s not my…”
He snapped the picture before I finished.
We walked up to Teo’s. Remember to smile, I told myself as I rang the doorbell. Teo loves this whole costume thing. Show him that you truly are Christmas spirit.
“Merry Christmas,” I said when he opened the door.
Teo just stared at me, his mouth agape. “What the … why are…?”
He was wearing perfectly normal, everyday clothes. “You’re dressing up, right?” I asked, even though I had a pretty good idea I knew the answer.
“Are you kidding?” Then he started to laugh. Seriously laugh. “Guys, you have got to see this,” he called to the people in the house.
For someone who always thought she was so smart, I was incredibly dumb.
I turned to J.D. “You are such a jerk.”
Only he was laughing, too. His fake Santa belly was shaking at my expense.
I took off the pin and threw it at him. “I hate you so much.”
“You told her to do this?” Teo asked.
Then he high-fived his cousi
n. I was going to have to seriously reconsider my crush.
“You are both horrible people,” I said and started to take the wreath off.
“No, don’t take it off, it’s cute,” Teo said. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.” But he didn’t even try to hide the huge grin on his face. Then three other people—two girls and guy—surrounded him at the door.
“Whoa,” one of the girls said, peeking around Teo’s left side. She looked familiar. I’d seen her around the halls at school. “Interesting outfit choice.”
Then the laughter picked up again.
J.D. was so dead.
“All right, lay off, Heather,” he told her and the others after noticing the death rays shooting from my eyes straight at him.
Heather. She was what I wanted to look like today. Cute, with a formfitting dress, and her hair done up to perfection in some sort of elaborate twist. Instead, I looked like a decked-out Pillsbury Doughboy, and my hair?! If I took off the wreath, I’d have a rat’s nest, and if I left it on, I basically had an actual nest on my head.
How could I have thought Teo was actually going to be dressed as Ralphie?
“Everyone ready?” Teo asked the group in the house. The others went and grabbed their coats.
“So, you finally got someone to dress up with you, huh?” Teo asked J.D. as he stepped outside.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Every year, he tries to convince us to have some sort of theme,” Teo explained.
“And every year, we tell him no way,” Heather said, joining us. “Guess you must really like him or something.”
“Or something.” I wasn’t about to explain that I did this in a very misguided attempt to impress Teo.
“All right, guys, and Santa, and … what are you?” Teo asked me.
“Christmas spirit,” I said flatly.
“Okay.” He laughed again. “Christmas spirit, let’s go.” He put his arm around me. “We’re meeting the rest of the group down the street at Polly’s. We do the caroling there. They have a whole neighborhood event. You’ll love it, Christmas spirit.”
Maybe every cloud did have a silver lining. Teo Ortiz had his arm around me! And I more than needed the extra TLC after this humiliation. “What about your parents and Dylan?” I asked. “Aren’t they coming?”
“They went with an earlier group that had younger kids. We’re the ‘teen’ group,” he said, making quotes with his free hand.
“We’re also the pro group,” Heather said, sidling up to Teo’s other side. “We’re in the Aca-mazings—or at least most of us are.” The Aca-mazings was the school’s a cappella group. No wonder she looked familiar. I had seen her and the rest of her ensemble perform at assemblies a few times. They were really talented.
“I’ve never seen you sing with them,” I told Teo.
“I did it my freshman year.”
“He’s really amazing. I was so upset when he quit.” Heather gave him a little pout, and much to my displeasure, Teo put his other arm around her. She instantly brightened up. “The whole group doesn’t come out caroling, so we need some fill-ins. Especially guys. So Teo has been helping us out over the years, and he pulled in J.D.”
“Nice,” I said, although I was beginning to get uncomfortable. Not just because of the way Heather was looking up at Teo like a lovesick puppy, but because a realization hit. These people could really sing. All of them. All of them but me.
I turned to J.D., my one last hope. “Do you have a good voice, too?”
“It’s okay.”
“He’s being modest,” Heather answered. “He’d totally make the group if he tried out.”
Perfect. Just what my night needed.
All I wanted to do was impress Teo, but I was just going from one embarrassment to another. I thought this was going to be a fun, friendly caroling night where no one would notice or care about my off-key singing. I didn’t expect everyone to be terrific vocalists. I mean, seriously, what were the odds that Teo was going to be exceptional at absolutely everything he tried? So, basically, they were all going to sound like angels, while I sounded like a cat in heat. Worse, I’d probably make the cat seem like it had an ounce of talent.
But I momentarily forgot all of that when we arrived at Polly’s. “Wow,” I gasped.
“Pretty amazing, huh?” Teo said.
That was an understatement. It was an actual winter wonderland. I didn’t know neighborhoods like this even existed. It was a cul-de-sac that had been transformed into a little Christmas village. First there were the decorations—lights circled just about every tree, telephone pole, and mailbox, fake icicles hung from houses, candles were on windowsills, and there were holiday displays on several lawns—everything from a Nativity scene to Santa and his reindeer. Then there were the sounds. Sure, there was Christmas music playing, but what really caught me was the buzz of the street. I had never seen so many neighbors outside at once. Everyone was talking to one another, laughing, sharing food. There was a line of tables that had Christmas cookies and other treats on it, an actual food truck where someone was handing out hot chocolate, and one person even had a barbecue set up. The smell wafting from it was delicious. “What is that?” I asked.
“Chestnuts,” Teo said.
No way. This place actually had chestnuts roasting on an open fire. I was wrong; this place wasn’t just a Christmas village, it was Christmas heaven.
“Ever had them?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Well, I think it’s one of those things Christmas spirit should experience,” he said. Then he took my hand and led me to the barbecue.
He was holding my hand! Was there a place even better than heaven? Because that’s where I was right now.
He dropped my hand to give me a chestnut, but I could still feel the warmth from where he touched me.
“Well,” he asked after I bit into one. “What do you think?”
“It’s perfect.” And I wasn’t just talking about the chestnut, which had a smoky taste mixed with a twinge of sweetness.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “I—”
“Teo,” a girl called out and then ran over and gave him a big hug, interrupting us. Heather, J.D., the rest of the group from Teo’s, and several others were right behind her.
“Hey, Polly,” Teo said, hugging her back.
Their embrace went on way too long. I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Heather shot her a nasty look. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one vying for Teo’s attention. But I was the one whose hand he had held only minutes ago!
“We want to get started,” she said.
And then I remembered I was also the only one who was going to look like a fool in mere moments. I couldn’t sing with these people. What was I going to do?
Lip-sync. It was my only choice.
Heather passed around a song order list, and we headed to the center of the cul-de-sac. “We don’t actually have the sheet music. We’ve been doing this so long, we kinda have everything down.”
“That’s okay,” I said. I actually knew the words to most Christmas songs. My problem wasn’t the lyrics, it was keeping a tune.
As the crowd saw us getting ready, they turned off the music and hushed one another. A bunch of kids sat on the curb, their parents on folding chairs behind them.
When Heather introduced the group, there was thunderous applause. This was a huge deal to these people. I was so out of my league.
Yet somehow I wound up in the front row next to Teo. “Just jump in wherever you see fit,” he whispered to me.
The only place I fit was back in my bed under my covers.
The first song was “Do You Hear What I Hear?” and when Heather said they had it down, she was not kidding.
First J.D. and one of the other guys started spitting out beats, then the others started singing. Some had the main verse, some echoed after them, but they all harmonized and sounded like they should be doing this for a living. They even had movements down. I did my own c
horeography. I shuffled away from Teo and to the back of the group. There was no way I was going to jump into that. It would have been like a third grader who just started flute lessons jumping into a performance at Carnegie Hall. It just didn’t happen, not unless you wanted to get ridiculed off the stage.
The song lasted about five minutes, and by the end, any neighbor who hadn’t come by for the performance before certainly was coming over now. Not that I blamed them. It was a killer show. I’d have come and watched it, too. In fact, at that very moment, I wished I was with the spectators instead of the singers.
There was another wave of applause, and J.D. moved closer to me. “Why aren’t you singing?”
“I am.”
“Charlie.”
How could he tell? “Fine, because you didn’t tell me this was the Christmas caroler all-star team,” I hissed.
“No one cares if you can sing; that’s not what this is about,” he said.
“Right, just like no one cares if they win the championship football game, or science fair, or place first in their class.”
“It’s not the same thing,” he said, but it was hard to take him seriously in that Santa getup. Not that I was one to talk.
Before I could prove to him I was right, the group started up again with “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” I had always loved that song, only now I just wished it would hurry up and end.
I dutifully mouthed along all the words, but then my cover was blown. When we got to the third day of Christmas, Teo started pointing at people in the group for each gift, and they each sang that line by themselves, while everyone else harmonized and did their beat thing in the background. Please don’t point to me, please don’t point to me. Normally, I liked to be called on, but that was in school, where I had the answers. Here it felt like I was being sent to walk the plank.
I made it through the first three days of Christmas.
Then it was the fourth day. I mouthed along to On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me then braced myself as Teo made his choice. I was safe; he picked J.D. for four calling birds.
But I really panicked when the next verse started. I’d be able to talk-sing through seven swans a-swimming and six geese a-laying—but five, five was five golden rings. And you had to be able to carry a tune for that. It was high and drawn out. Do not pick me, do not pick me, do not pick me.
My New Crush Gave to Me Page 12
