Poppies for Christmas

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Poppies for Christmas Page 28

by Stacy Renée Keywell


  “Declan, you’re being rude,” scolded Debbie.

  “F-F-F-i-i-i-ne! B-B-B-y-y-y-e.”

  Declan let out a huge sigh. “W-w-w-a-a-a-it,” he said.

  I paused. Declan stepped over to me.

  “Th-a-a-a-nks . . . f-f-f-o-o-o-r t-t-t-rying t-t-t-o h-h-h-e-e-e-lp m-m-m-e s-s-s-ave the c-c-c-cake . . . and, and, and . . . f-f-f-o-o-o-r th-e-e-e a-a-a-d-v-i-i-i-ce, ya-ya-ou kn-n-n-o-o-o-w, a-a-a-bout b-b-b-a-a-a-king. I-I-I a-a-a-p-p-p-recia-a-a-te i-i-i-t. Ya-ya-ya-ou’re a-a-a-ll r-r-r-i-i-i-ght. W-w-w-e-e-e c-c-c-an h-h-h-a-a-a-ng s-s-s-o-o-o-me t-t-t-i-i-i-me, ya-ya-ou a-a-a-nd m-m-m-e!”

  Declan grabbed my shoulders, and brought me in for a bro-hug. It felt more like a bear hug, since the guy didn’t know his own strength. But I had to admit, my heart melted. Once a Davies, always a Davies. Declan had the distinct knack to rise above the negative, and capture the essence of humility and gratitude. More than just a pretty face, Declan was an inextinguishable superstar.

  “Okay, break it up, time to go,” Denver interrupted with impatience.

  She grabbed my arm, and pulled me toward the front door.

  “Never mind him. He couldn’t help it before. He was still a bit upset. But, I knew he would come around. Declan will get over the whole cake-smashing, dog thing. He loves Dancer almost as much as Poppy, almost. He’s a sweet kid when he’s not being lame,” Denver assured me.

  She reached for the doorknob to let me out.

  My hand shot out to stop her. I placed her hand between mine. I couldn’t stop my sudden sadness from spreading, but I could hold back my tears, at least until I reached the safety of my bedroom.

  I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want my time here to end. I feared once Denver opened the door, I would never have these special feelings again. I feared they would blow away with the winter wind, and get lost in the deep snow. I wanted to freeze time, rewind it back to the beginning, and relive these past few days all over again, the good, the bad, and the wonderful.

  After several minutes of wordless handholding, the silence between us crowded the air. I gathered the strength to produce words.

  “I can’t believe this is goodbye.”

  “Silly, Dexx,” Denver giggled. “This is not goodbye. This is hello!”

  “Hello?” I asked confused.

  “Yes, hello to new beginningnesses between us. Hello to the Dexx I always wanted to meet. Hello to the Dexx who is ready for a dreamful relationship . . . with . . . well . . . . me. So, this is hello until next time, never goodbye.”

  My heart pounded with happiness. Hello was very good for me. Hello meant a future, a future with my new favorite girl, and my new favorite family. Hello meant possibilities, and open doors. Hello meant . . . the opposite of goodbye.

  “Yes, hello, Denver. Hello, forever.”

  I pulled Denver close to me for one last hug. We squeezed each other as if it were the last time, but I knew with hello, this goodbye was only the first one, with many, many more to come.

  Denver released me, and opened the door. My grumpy mom stared me down from behind the wheel. Smoke from the exhaust surrounded the car like an angry dragon. Sick ideas flooded my brain, as my new musical muse waved me off.

  The grand door to the Davies home shut. Mom pulled away. I sank into the front seat dreaming about some epic new songs which I would dub, Love for the Brave at Heart.

  With Denver by my side, I was finally ready to be brave.

  Epilogue

  December 31st

  Dexx

  The walls of The Hall vibrated craziful. I furiously spun some sick beats to keep the party moving. Sweaty bodies danced, glowing from confetti and glitter, under the flickering strobe lights. People packed tightly around the coffee tables, crowding the maroon couches, and cushy chairs. The club filled to capacity, with a line outside that wrapped around the deserted shopping mall.

  Since the media blitzed with an impromptu celebrity guest, tickets sold out in minutes, with a waiting list of hopefuls at the will call desk, counting on cancelations. The owners of The Hall couldn’t buy this kind of awesome publicity. They booked me for ten more gigs this upcoming year, anticipating I might get ‘discovered’ and ‘unaffordable.’ I welcomed their prophecy with an open mind and an open heart.

  Speaking of heart. My girl, Denver, stood beside me at the DJ booth. She was dressed in tight black pants, and a sequined black tank top. A long, silver sweater draped down her body. She pressed some bejeweled headphones to her ears, and swayed to the music.

  Earlier in the week, I had sampled Denver’s voice, and wove it into several songs. A Denver mash up. Every time she heard herself, she looked up at me, and giggled. Every time our eyes met, she dazzled me.

  Poppy danced with her usual fervor, lost in a hectic daze, off to her spot at the side of the dance floor. She fluttered around in a bright red, beaded mini-dress. It was strapless, so . . . she pretty much had a roving group of strange guys following her around, cluelessly mirroring her every move.

  With her matching lipstick, Poppy mouthed the words to the songs, and led her herd of admirers in a circle. Ignoring the obvious fan club, she kept herself in the moment with the music. Poppy’s friend Kit bopped around Poppy, trying to keep up with Poppy’s spontaneously chaotic dance moves.

  Kit caught my eye, and waved, shyly. I gave her an encouraging thumbs-up, which left her blushing. She wiggled around like her friend. Poppy grabbed Kit, and gave her a big hug. They danced around in a circle, making the pack of hopeful boys jealous.

  Off to the other side, a swarm mobbed our local celebrity. In a white V-neck T-shirt and black jeans, Declan posed with an endless line of fans for selfies. In between smolders, he bowed chivalrously, and signed autographs. The dark, handsome, silent type hugged swooning girls, and shook hands with star-struck dudes, all wanting to post envy-worthy New Year’s pics for endless bragging rights. Competition for the best cyber brag was fierce, and these kids hit the virtual jackpot in our modest Michigan town.

  Charming Declan. He seemed more relaxed now that Poppy helped him enroll in a baking course at the community college down the road. He even agreed that switching majors might be his best move. Poppy bragged about his beautiful cake, and his remarkable artistic ability. I agreed. With such a talented hand and an eye for detail, the poppy-covered cake did make him shine brighter than his handsome face. So, he downloaded the app for culinary school, and planned on applying next fall.

  But, honestly, what really caught my eye was my friend Jack. He crept over to Lenn. She sat alone on a couch nursing a watery soda, abandoned by her dancing friends. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could read their body language.

  Jack tapped Lenn on the shoulder. He startled her. She jumped. As she turned around to face him, their eyes met. They both smiled, and immediately looked away. Then, slowly, their eyes met once more, and stayed glued on each other as they conversed. Jack inched his way on to the couch until their knees touched.

  Whatever they were saying, it was totally hilarious. They both laughed profusely at their conversation. Their lips hovered close above one another’s ear. The volume in The Hall was super charged.

  Funny how acceptance from one person opens the door to acceptance from many. How Lenn might have gone from lame to luster overnight. But, it doesn’t matter how it happened. It matters that it happened. That Jack opened his eyes to a cool, creative girl that might enjoy hanging out with him, and gaming. And Lenn invited in a guy into her life who might dig animé sketches of crazy creatures, and possibly of himself.

  I was happy for them. I was happy for Kit. I was happy for Poppy and Declan. But, most of all, I was happy for myself. This was going to be my year. The year of Dexx, where all of my wishful dreams come true.

  If you like underdog stories, well, I’m your underdog story, and every
thing is about to change, for all of us.

  Sweat dripped down the side of my face. I wiped my brow with the back side of my hand. Denver handed me my can of energy drink. We clinked our matching cans before I took a deep swig. I winked. She giggled, and rolled her eyes like we shared a secret, a wondrous, exciting secret. But what I looked forward to most was sharing a kiss at the stroke of midnight.

 

 

 


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