The Holly Hearth Romantic Comedy Collection

by K B Cinder

  It had been a day, and it still hurt as if he’d just said the words, even surrounded by my kiddies.

  The snowstorm was a bust, a light coating of slush making the drive annoying but not much else. It coated the existing snow in a disgusting blanket of wet, making snowballs and snowmen impossible aka the only perks of snow. Besides bomb-ass Insta pics, if you asked Karine.

  So I was stuck sulking in a classroom full of kids and PTA moms, all chatting excitedly about the upcoming week off. I’d lost that magic, the giddiness of the long break gone.

  Fate won.

  The bitch swooped in and stole my thunder.

  Telling Sage couldn’t have gone worse.

  Not only did I piss him off, but I pissed off Dash and Karine, too, my knee-jerk lie stirring up hell the whole way home. Karine, for obvious reasons, and Dash, for less obvious ones.

  Apparently, Sage had an unspoken rule about Karine, too, and me announcing that Dash had broken it immediately sent Sage spiraling into a rage. A great start to telling him the big news.

  Now I was sitting on Asshole Island all by myself. An exile I deserved.

  The kiddies worked their tails off building sugar cube igloos, most of which looked more like lean-tos, but that was okay. As long as they had walls and a roof, we were golden.

  Little Raven was already working on the second part of the assignment, writing five things she wanted inside of her igloo. Her tongue pressed against her inner cheek while she was deep in thought, the eraser of her pencil tapping her forehead.

  “How’s it going?” I asked, squatting down beside her.

  So far, she wanted her mom, food, a cat, and a book in her igloo according to her crooked writing. Not a bad assortment. I mean, I could have gone without the cat, but who was I to judge?

  “I don’t know what to pick.” She pouted at her page before looking back at her igloo, a design that looked more like a pyramid.

  “What about a coloring book?” I suggested. The kid could color better than I could. I never mastered staying in the lines. Huh. I guess that foreshadowed my entire life.

  She shook her head, her sloppy pigtails on life support as usual. “Nah. Then I’d need crayons, and I only have enough room for one more thing.”

  Smart kid.

  “How about a friend?” I know I’d want Karine in my igloo. She would be the only person to keep me sane.

  “But then I’d have to pick one, and the others would be sad.”

  “I’m sure they could take turns,” I assured with a smile.

  The class phone rang, summoning me across the room, a few of the PTA moms watching and whispering from afar. I knew them from high school, and unfortunately, they weren’t exactly nice girls at the time. Obviously the years hadn’t changed them. But I had the last laugh. I could go out drinking until two in the morning without needing a sitter. So ha.

  “Hello,” I greeted on the third ring, coiling the phone cord around my finger. “Ms. Mullen’s room.”

  I glanced at the clock, seeing 10:10 AM and groaning inside. I didn’t know if I’d make it five more hours. Not with guilt and regret jousting in my stomach.

  “Hey, Juni, can you head down to Dr. Rosen’s office? Mrs. Summers should be there any minute to sit with your class. It won’t be long.” Brandon sounded official for once, taking his job as my boss serious for maybe the first time ever.

  On cue, there was a knock on the doorjamb beside me, Mrs. Summers standing there in a Christmas dress with more gift bow appliqués than should be legally permissible. Ornament earrings dangled from her ears, making her look every bit the festive teacher.

  Meanwhile, I was wearing the first thing I grabbed in the morning: a brown sweater dress and boots. I was as Christmasy as a burnt Yule log.

  “Alright,” I replied, before promptly hanging up on him.

  “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” I promised to Mrs. Summers, giving her a quick smile before fleeing to the hall.

  The walk to Dr. Rosen’s office was long, his office on the other side of the building overlooking the lake. It was a cushy spot with regularly-working heat, so I didn’t mind the walk. Especially since it broke up the dragging day.

  I rarely, if ever, spoke with the superintendent, not that he was a mean guy or anything. He was always up to his neck in paperwork. I wasn’t sure why Brandon aspired to have the job. It seemed like something that would bore me to tears.

  I found the superintendent’s office empty when I arrived, his secretary out for the day while his personal office door was closed. I sat in the waiting room, figuring he’d stepped out or was on a call.

  I focused on the bubbling filters of the fish tank in the corner while I waited, the slow, steady sound distracting me from the thoughts bouncing in my head. The memories of Sage’s face. The hurt in Dash’s eyes when I denied our relationship. None of it was forgivable.

  I didn’t know why he was willing to risk a friendship over me. A girl that crumbled so easily under pressure. I should have admitted it on the spot. But in usual Juni fashion, I fucked that up, too.

  The door jingled, pulling me out of the land of pouts, Brandon stepping in with a notebook and pen.

  “Mid-year review?” I asked, completely baffled as to why I was there. “Dr. Rosen isn’t here yet.”

  “I know. It doesn’t matter.” He strolled to Dr. Rosen’s office door, opening it and waving a hand to usher me in.

  “Where’s Dr. Rosen?” I asked, refusing to stand and follow him. I’d made my feelings about dealing with him abundantly clear. Not happening, dude.

  “Staying at his private villa in the Virgin Islands.”

  “So, why am I here?” I stood, moving toward the door to leave.

  “Juni, wait. You’re here for a reason, baby.”

  “I’m not your baby, Brandon. Tell me what you need, or I’m out of here. You interrupted an activity I spent a lot of time on.”

  Not to mention made a huge mess with. There was sugar everywhere. Come spring, my classroom would be a smorgasbord for ants.

  “You’ll always be my baby, Juni.” He hung his head sadly. “Sit down, please.”

  “Why are we in here?” I demanded. He had his own damn office. An office I preferred with its walls of windows. Windows that guaranteed he couldn’t pull any stunts.

  He flashed a smile, a smile that had once turned me into a babbling mess of nerves. “Dr. Rosen is retiring next year, and I’m interviewing for the position. I thought we could get used to it in here.”

  “You can if you’d like. I have no interest,” I went to leave, but he slinked in between me and the door, his body blocking the only exit.

  He reached toward me, but I ducked his hand. “There’s no point taking the job if I don’t have you. This is our dream, baby.”

  “This is your dream. It’s my nightmare. I don’t want any part of you or your career. We’re long-finished.”

  His eyes locked with mine, his lashes low. “Juni, we talked about this so many times. We were going to go to Fiji, remember? The wedding. The kids. I’m ready, baby.”

  A few weeks earlier, my heart would have soared, but now it didn’t even pick up speed, indifferent to him and his lies.

  “I’m sure you and Clare will have loads of fun with all that.”

  He sighed, catching my hand to rub a thumb over my wrist. “Don’t be like that, Juni. It’s all there on the table for us.”

  “And you destroyed that,” I reminded, shaking my hand free. “But thank you. Because of that, I found someone amazing.”

  Someone I hurt because I was too much of a coward to just say what I needed to say.

  He dropped to his knee suddenly, a ring cradled in his fingers. It dazzled in the light, a halo-cut that had more stones on it that I thought possible. “I’ve had someone amazing, too. That’s how I know you’re the one. I love you, baby. I want to be with your forever. Marry me, Juniper?”

  I had to be in the Twilight Zone. He was looking up at me with crazy eyes, wide an
d unfocused.

  I would have given my left tit for the proposal in the past, but now I just wanted to laugh in his face.

  “No.” It was the answer no man wanted to receive, but I didn’t care. “The answer is no and will stay that way forever. I don’t want you or any of this.” I gestured wildly at his stupid suit and perfectly coifed hair, disgusted that I’d ever fallen for the polish on a turd of a man.

  He grabbed my hand, holding me to him. “Juni, you don’t mean that. We love each other. I’m who your dad would want. I can make you the happiest woman alive.”

  “Between affairs?” I shot back, tears pricking my eyes at the mention of my dad. “Sorry, you can’t buy my love with expensive jewelry between fuck ups. Money doesn’t make a man, Brandon.”

  His brows snapped together as his nostrils flared. His grip on my hand became painful, crushing my fingers even as I pulled to free myself. “I can give you anything you want, Juni.”

  “Except a good heart,” I fired back, struggling to free my hand. “And honor, loyalty, and a half a dozen other traits in a real man.”

  His face contorted at the insult, his grip crushing. “I can give you more than some hose-toting douchebag or whatever you’re fucking nowadays.”

  “Venereal diseases? Probably,” I agreed, twisting myself to get free. “But anything else? No. You’re a bunch of smoke, Brandon. You put on a good front, I’ll give you that, but deep-down, you’re only after one thing: easy ass. Now let go of me.”

  “You were easy ass, huh?” he fired back, sliding the ring into his shirt pocket. “You did give it up with little to no effort. I took you to what, a chain restaurant, and you slept with me the next date. Classy, Juni.”

  “I said, let go of me.” I ignored the insult, ready to move on with my life. The Brandon chapter was closed.

  “I said, marry me,” he snarled. “Marry me, or I fire you for that little number you were wearing at the holiday party. I can’t wait for you to wear that for me, by the way. I have pictures to tide me over that the Board of Education would love. I can see the headline now: kinky kindergarten teacher.”

  I rammed the palm of my free hand up into his nose, the action making him instantly drop my hand and fall to the side, clutching his face in a heap on the floor.

  “I said, let go of me!” I repeated, stepping past him to freedom.

  20

  I fought off tears by insulating my heart with peppermint bark and candy canes the rest of the school day. It was hard to be sad surrounded by the giggling kiddies. They kept me afloat.

  Every time the phone rang, I expected it to be Dr. Rosen, calling between Mai Tais to let me know I was fired for socking the principal in the schnoz.

  But the call never came.

  And neither did Brandon.

  I rushed to my car with my head down, hidden in a gaggle of other teachers who were chatting excitedly about the staff holiday dinner later. A party I was keen on skipping.

  The slush was as disgusting as ever, sopping through the toes of the suede boots I’d mistakenly worn, the icy water chilling my toes despite my wool socks.

  I climbed in and locked the doors, the knot in my throat finally freed. My hands trembled as I held the steering wheel, in an all-out frenzy with the events of the morning.

  Rather than saying yes to my first and only proposal, I swiftly bopped him in the nose. That was a story for my grandkids, I tell you.

  I waited for my hands to stop shaking before pulling off, and by then, the lot was mainly empty, a few stragglers staying to complete grading before the long break.

  As I pulled out of my spot, that’s when I heard it.

  The one noise that makes your butthole pucker while driving. Especially if you’re on the interstate.

  The telltale thadump of a flat tire.

  I parked with a string of curses that surely would earn me a spot on Santa’s Naughty List, hopping out to assess the damage. My rear passenger tire was flat as a pancake, a heart slashed in its side.

  There was no denying who did it, and as much as I wanted to spazz, I couldn’t. I’d done a lot worse to his car. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to kick him in the shin, however.

  I climbed into my car again and dialed the number I knew by heart, my life a perpetual comedy of flats. I was surprised I didn’t know every AAA driver in the state by name.

  Then the waiting game began. They’d have a driver out within a half hour, so that was a win, leaving me to twiddle my thumbs.

  Some women might know how to change a tire, but I was not one of them. Honestly, I had no business near any sort of tool or construction. With my luck, I’d collapse the axel.

  I debated texting Karine, but she was still pissed off from the whole Sage incident. There was no sense bringing on her wrath. She already flipped me the bird when I said hi while she was eating Lucky Charms.

  Dash was working and equally not in the mood for me or my shit.

  And Sage? Ha.

  That left me alone stewing in my own mess, still steaming over Brandon. His audacity. His words.

  For someone that allegedly loved me, he sure didn’t show it by mentioning Dad, using him like a bartering chip right before the day he knew it hurt me most. That line alone told me he wasn’t a man. He could crawl back into the sewer where he belonged and stay there with the rest of the slime balls.

  His stupid chariot Scarlett still sat in his parking spot, her paint repaired and as shiny as ever. Even in winter he washed the thing religiously. If there weren’t any cameras in the lot, I might have just gone and pissed on the hood for the trouble he caused me.

  There was a tap on my passenger side window, scaring me senseless. I whirled, seeing Brandon leaning to look in, a smile on his face despite the medical tape and gauze decorating his nose.

  I looked away with a smile, satisfied with my handiwork. The doors were locked, keeping him at bay. Eventually, he’d give up. He always did when things got hard. It was the classic Brandon Finger M.O.

  He didn’t take the hint, however, coming around to tap on my window. “Juni, open up. Let’s talk.”

  I flipped him off, staring straight ahead. I didn’t owe him a talk. I didn’t even owe him the energy it took to give him the finger. That, that was for me.

  “Baby, please. Just hear me out, okay? I was an idiot. I really do love you. More than anything.”

  Clare must have dumped him for being a sleaze. It was the only explanation for his sudden 180. He’d gone from wanting both of us, to suddenly happy with marriage? Yeah, right. And I was the queen of fucking England.

  “I did some thinking. I miss us. I miss the way you mix up cheesecake and cheesesteak in conversation. The way you always mispronounce Reeses. How mad you get when someone cuts you off in traffic. Life isn’t the same without you, Juni. I love you.”

  I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes, silently willing him to leave. There was no sense in him droning on for the world to see.

  But he was like a toddler. If I gave him the slightest attention for his bad behavior, it would be a reward. I’d long-since learned how he operated. I’d only recently seen it for what is was and decided to keep on moving. He did me a favor by royally fucking up with Clare that night.

  “Please, Juni. I want to marry you. I want to have cute little Junebugs with big green eyes and beautiful brown hair. I want the early morning cuddles and late night laughs. I want it all. I’ve missed you so much.”

  I looked at him one last time before turning on the radio, drowning him out with Shakira. Unlike him, her hips didn’t lie.

  21

  Brandon’s love was conditional.

  Apparently it didn’t like the snow.

  When the sky opened up with light flurries, he was out like sauerkraut.

  He didn’t look upset either, like one would think, losing the love of his life and all. Gag me. There was nothing but anger on his face. Probably frustration over not getting his own way for the first time in his pathetic life. />
  Maybe his mom would buy him a wife, too, like his stupid teacher of the year mug. She’d need to pony up the big bucks for that one. Wives that tolerated the shit he pulled needed super-sized rings and Bentleys as payment.

  A short time later, the tow truck arrived, rescuing me from my sad state of flat affairs. I tipped him a twenty for saving me before riding home on my donut, annoyed I’d have to spend a morning at the shop and a chunk of change on tires.

  Merry Christmas, courtesy of Brandon Finger. Prick.

  Karine wasn’t home when I arrived, the house eerily quiet as I entered. We really needed to get a dog or something. The house was too still. A little more crazy than just us wouldn’t hurt.

  Besides, I needed to practice taking care of something other than myself. Not that I was doing a great job of that, as demonstrated by my dinner of Hot Cheetos and pickles. Dill, of course.

  Karine got home after pickle number three, still mean mugging me to hell and back as she headed to her room, not even saying hello in passing. She simply sashayed by looking like a long-lost Kardashian, her curves popping in a figure-hugging dress while her hair swung side to side in a full ponytail.

  “Hi to you, too, Satan,” I called just as she reached her door. “I have some gossip you’ll love.”

  I saved the Brandon story for an in person rendition, a text unable to do the pathetic stunt justice. Okay, and I wanted to see every bit of her reaction.

  “Oh, what, am I dating someone other than Dash now?” she shot back, slamming her door behind her.

  “I said I was sorry!” I yelled, popping a Cheeto in my mouth. I also bought her her favorite Wawa hoagie and tea as a peace offering. It was a rookie mistake. She ate it, but there was no peace. “I think you’ll want to hear about your best friend’s proposal!”

  Sure enough, her door popped open a sliver. “Proposal?”

  “Yup, a ring and all.”

  That did the trick. She slunk down the hallway like a cat on the prowl, stopping at the mouth of the kitchen. “Spill it, Judas.”