What Happens During the Holidays: A Holiday Anthology

by Lucy Gage

  He also met his long-term girlfriend at a race…

  “What are you doing here, Mr. Barnes?” I ask, changing the subject away from myself.

  “Just picking up something for tonight.”

  “To celebrate with your girlfriend?”

  He smiles, but it’s pensive. “Is everything all right, Lila? You’re okay? You don’t need any help?”

  Of course, he’s a teacher. It’s in his nature to care about the wellbeing of his students, even though I’m a former one. He’s not here to chide me or give me a hard time for trying to scam some alcohol, he wants to make sure I’m not in trouble.

  “I’m fine, Mr. Barnes.” I smile weakly. “You have a Merry Christmas.”

  He places a palm on my shoulder. “You too.”

  Opening the shop door, I exhale a massive breath.

  Lila Pierce. That girl. No. She’s a woman. She always has been. There’s no doubt about that. The salacious thoughts running through my mind at present are the perfect reminder. I don’t know how I was able to keep myself in check every day last year.

  First period was hell. Everything about her drove me crazy, and by the time Christmas break rolled around, I wasn't even able to look her in the eye. I never called on her in class. Of course, my dumb ass had them sit in assigned seats which kept her front and center for probably the most tortuous 180 days of my life.

  Every day I got to see the curve of her lips when she smiled, the flick of her tongue when she was deep in thought, and the delicate way she used to trace the shape of her mouth with her finger when she stared aimlessly, like she was lost in her own thoughts. Every day my eyes would linger on the sway of her hips as she left my classroom.

  I’m surprised I never got caught. My raging hard-on could have easily given me away at any time. I spent a lot of class time seated behind my desk because of it.

  It was a self-inflicted nightmare.

  Knowing that Lucky is waiting outside, I hurry to the rear of the building and pick up a bottle of vodka and gin. One for tonight and one for tomorrow to be safe. I pay for the liquor, a.k.a. bottles of forget, and then head outside to untie Lucky from the bike rack, where I left him.

  Venturing back the same way, I tread slowly, hoping that Lila was picked up by her ride or friend during the time I was inside.

  She wasn’t.

  “And an extra ten bucks if you do it,” Lila says to a man, facing my direction. “No, make it twenty.”

  “I don’t think so.” The man shakes his head.

  “C’mon, it’s Christmas. Here. There’s fifty dollars.” She shoves a wad of money towards the man. “A bottle of vodka and you can keep the change.”

  I sidle up next to Lila and the man raises his gaze to me. “Put your money away, Lila,” I say, placing my hand over hers. “I think this gentleman needs to get going.”

  Without a word, the man glances toward Lila and then to me. He nods and then continues inside. When the door closes behind him, I turn my attention to Lila, her eyes wide and glossy.

  She removes her hand from mine. When did I even take it in mine?

  “Where’s your ride?” I ask her.

  She pouts her lips and peers aimlessly over her shoulder.

  “I see,” I say, understanding that there is no ride. “How did you get here?”

  She angles her head toward a small silver vehicle about ten feet behind her. It’s the same car she drove in high school.

  “Why don’t you go home? It’s Christmas.”

  Her mouth tightens and she begins to sniffle, fighting back the pooling moisture accumulating in her eyes. She’s upset and my heart instinctively wants to protect her.

  “Better yet, why don’t we go for a walk?” I suggest.

  That gets her attention. Lila nods her head.

  “C’mon.” I place my hand at her lower back and lead her down the sidewalk with Lucky by our side.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  This is basically the icing on the shit-tastic of all shit-tastic evenings. First, my sister and Gray drama, then I find out my entire family is basically in on the deception, and now I’ve been caught by the hottest teacher on the planet while trying to illegally buy booze from a stranger. The worst part, I’m not even his student, or a minor, but when he suggested I take a walk with him, it felt more like a command rather than a suggestion.

  I almost feel like he’s going to scold me, just like if I were sitting back in his classroom.

  “Mr. Barnes…?” my voice wobbles more than I would like. “I…I know what I did was wrong. I shouldn’t be asking someone to buy me liquor like that.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on, and you don’t have to tell me. It’s okay. And no, you shouldn’t be asking strangers to buy you alcohol.” He reaches into the brown bag in his arm, twists a cap, and then pulls out a small bottle, holding it in my direction. “You should get it from people you know.”

  I stop in my tracks, glaring at him and then the bottle. “Mr. Barnes…”

  “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. I assume you aren’t driving anywhere soon?”

  I shake my head. He’s right, I truly have nowhere to be or go in the immediate future. Still not sure, I respond, “I don’t know.”

  “What don’t you know? This is what you were after, right? Back there?” He raises his brows and cocks his head. “Okay, then. Suit yourself.” Mr. Barnes takes a swig. “Ah, man. I needed that.” He holds the bottle in my direction again. “Offer still stands.”

  My eyes shift to the left and then the right.

  “No one’s around,” he says. “They’re all tucked nicely away in their homes with their families. Celebrating the season.”

  Not giving it another thought, I take the bottle from his hand and gulp the fiery liquid, savoring the burn as it makes its way down my throat and into my belly. I sigh. I practically moan.

  “Yeah,” he chuckles. “I thought you needed that.”

  Mr. Barnes takes back the bottle, drinking from it again, and then tucks it back into the bag under his arm. Wordlessly, he continues down the sidewalk and I follow, just as wordlessly.

  I don’t know where we’re going, not that it really matters since…

  “I don’t want to go home,” I say into the silence. He says nothing in return. The only sound is that of his boots hitting the pavement. “It’s my sister. Well, it’s my whole family, but mostly my sister.”

  “What did Kerry do?”

  “She slept with Gray.”

  He gives me a sidelong glance and then nods.

  “There’s more.” I blow out all the air from my lungs and then say, “She’s pregnant with his baby. My family knew about them and no one told me. Not even my mother.”

  Mr. Barnes offers no words of wisdom or compassion. He simply hands me the bottle again. I take another sip, allowing the heated liquid to burn away my feelings and then hand the bottle back. He puts it away.

  We walk for a few more minutes, not saying anything to each other. He has no comment or words, but somehow, the silence, the stillness of the moment, is just what I need. Saying it aloud somehow released the evil from my bones, so they no longer have to bear the brunt alone.

  After another half a block, he suddenly stops.

  “This is me.” Mr. Barnes waves his hand toward a small, blue, Cape Cod-style home. “Do you want to come in?”

  It’s official. I’m losing my fucking mind. This breakup with Avery has basically taken my logical brain and thrown it out the window, or flushed it into oblivion. Who knows. One thing is for sure. I’m not in my right mind at all.

  This is Lila Pierce. Sure, she’s of age…now. But she was my student…just last year. Heck, even less than that. A mere six months ago. Not only that, I gave her a drink. No…two drinks. I’ve basically broken the law. Yeah. I’m going to hell.

  I can’t even wrap my head around the ordeal with her sister, Kerr
y, and the situation with Gray. It was well-known that Lila and Gray were a long-time couple in high school and most people see that as puppy love. That’s how I saw it anyhow. While the kids take it seriously, it never lasts. However, banging the sister and knocking her up is right out of teen movies. No wonder Lila was looking for a drink and not wanting to go home.

  What is my solution to her problem? Invite her into my house and liquor her up.

  Mistake.

  This situation is fraught with small-town rumor-mill gossip. I’ll be ostracized if anyone ever finds out she’s here.

  I should tell her to go, but I can’t. Not only is it cruel at this point, I don’t want her to leave. Maybe it’s the loneliness, or that it’s the holidays, or that I genuinely feel bad for her situation.

  Or maybe it’s that a piece of my brain is supercharging my dick every time I think of her ass receding from the classroom. She planted that seed of lust into my being over the course of a school year. I thought I was freed of it the moment she graduated and left for college.

  I was wrong.

  That seed laid dormant and now it’s ready to bloom with intensity.

  I take her coat and hang it in the closet along with my own. We take off our boots and I lead her toward the kitchen where Lucky is already laying down in his bed just beside the breakfast nook. I remove the liquor from the bag, set both bottles on the counter, and take out two glasses from the cabinet.

  “Since I’m already going to hell, what’s your poison?” I ask, opening the refrigerator. “There's orange, cranberry, and pineapple juice as mixers, and cola.”

  “You’re not going to hell, Mr. Barnes.”

  “If you only knew,” I mutter just under my breath. “So?” I ask Lila again. “Drink?”

  She nods. “Vodka cranberry would be great.”

  “Festive. I’ll have one, too.”

  I mix both of our drinks and add a little sprig of mint from the plant Avery left on the kitchen windowsill for color. Handing Lila her glass, I raise mine and we both drink in silence.

  “Your place is nice,” she says out of nowhere.

  “It works. Thanks.”

  “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything? Surely, you have plans.”

  I swig half the contents of my glass. “I did. I don’t anymore.” My eyes meet hers. “My girlfriend left me, and my Christmas plans left with her.”

  “Oh.” She lowers her gaze to the countertop. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up anything sensitive.”

  “It’s fine. Don't worry about it. Besides, now my evening is wide open to spend with you.” Those damn words poured out of me so effortlessly, it’s frightening. I shouldn’t have said them. I shouldn’t even be thinking them.

  “Her loss is my fortune.” She smiles and her entire face glows.

  Good god, I’m flirting with him. Checking my posture, I realize that both my booty and hip are popping and I’m twirling my hair like some lasso-loving porn star. What is wrong with me?

  Maybe it’s the drink?

  Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve had a shitty night.

  Or maybe it’s just Mr. Barnes and some barriers that were always there, like school and my age, don’t feel like barriers anymore. They’re non-existent.

  From under my lashes, I look at him in that come-and-fuck-me way that actresses use in the movies. His nostrils flare, causing the monsters in my stomach to leap into my chest, begging me to reach across the counter and kiss him like I’ve dreamed about for years.

  This train of thought needs to stop.

  Right.

  Now.

  Turning on my heel, I take in the rest of the house. There’s a living room, which is cozy and inviting. I wonder into it and can sense Mr. Barnes staring at my back. I peek over my shoulder, finding him glued to the spot, eyes focused on me, like a scientist trying to figure out a problem.

  “Have you lived here long?” I ask, trying to make small talk.

  “About five years. I bought it shortly after taking the position at Wheaton,” he says, referring to my high school alma mater, his employer.

  I nod. “It’s cozy.”

  “It works for me.”

  My eyes roam over the furniture, a clear mixture of adult-like furniture, adjacent to some—what can only be referred to as—college items, like an end table made of glass blocks and plywood and a lamp that screams office supply store.

  I turn my focus to the wall that houses a few images. A framed Beatles record cover, a print of Van Gogh’s The Starry Night, and a few photographs.

  “Who are these people?” I question, raising my hand to an old black and white photograph of a young couple seated on a bench.

  Mr. Barnes relieves himself of his post at the counter and sidles up next to me, before the image. “Those are my grandparents. They were on their honeymoon in Niagara Falls.”

  “I love this photo. It’s so classic.”

  “So is the couple. They’re both retired and now live in Savannah, Georgia.”

  “I’ve heard it’s beautiful down there.”

  “It is. Completely worth the visit.”

  “Pipe dream.”

  “You’re young. The world awaits you.”

  “Spoken like someone who’s lived longer than me.”

  He chuckles. “Yes, I’ve had my adventures.”

  “I bet you have.” I smile and finish off my drink. He takes the glass and sets it on a nearby table. I continue to peruse the images. “Is this you?” I ask, pointing to a picture of a man mid-stride on the street. His legs are lean perfection, and his face is vibrant with exertion.

  “Yeah. It’s from about ten years ago at my first marathon in Georgia. I was nineteen at the time.”

  “Same age as me. Man, I feel like an underachiever. The only running I do is when I’m late to class.”

  “I haven’t run a marathon in over a year.”

  “Still, you ran one.”

  “Seven to be exact.”

  “Way to rub in my lack of accomplishments.”

  “We all succeed in our own ways.” He leans in, taking a closer look at the image. “God, I was so young. I look completely different in this picture.”

  “You’re much sexier now than you were then.”

  HO-LEE-FUCK. That just came out of my mouth.

  Mortification takes over and I stop breathing.

  “Mr. Barnes. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He closes his eyes and exhales sharply from his nose, tightening his fists into a ball. “Lila…” he breathes.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again.

  He opens his eyes, pinning me with a fierce and feral stare. “Fuck it.”

  His mouth is on mine, kissing me passionately.

  My heart leaps and pounds in my chest, like a violent storm tearing through a weak and unprotected village, destroying everything in its path, making way for something new. Our tongues sweep together, once, and then twice. He pulls away, leaving me vulnerable and empty.

  Panting, he runs a hand through his thick brown hair. “Sorry,” he mutters, breathless. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  I nod, trying to make sense of what just happened and what is happening.

  He was kissing me…and then he stopped.

  I don’t want him to stop. I want his hands on my body, caressing me. I want his tongue in places. Intimate places.

  I shouldn’t want these things, but I’ve wanted them for some time.

  Or maybe it’s this thing with Gray and Kerry that’s making me impulsive and somewhat reckless.

  It’s a fantasy, always has been, but it’s Christmas, too. Magic happens this time of year. And, my life is already pretty fucked up. There’s really no time to analyze or ponder over it. I’m giving in to the feeling and that is all.

  Why not dive in deeper?

  Taking a step forward, I slowly and gingerly lean up and place my mouth g
ently on his neck, and then his jaw, and landing one final kiss on those delectable lips.

  “You probably shouldn’t do that,” he says. “You’re my student.”

  I mouth his ear. “Used to be your student.”

  “Semantics. Still…we shouldn’t”

  “I know.” My tongue flicks over his earlobe.

  “Lila,” he pants. “I want to do…”

  “Yes, Mr. Barnes?”

  “Your behavior is…”

  “What is it?”

  “Salacious. Seductive. Sexy.”

  “That’s a lot of S words,” I practically purr.

  “Naughty.”

  “Then maybe you should punish me. I could use some discipline.”

  This woman is a vixen. I knew she was trouble. Or maybe I fantasized she was. However, the reality of her pressing her body to mine, is nothing like the vulgar thoughts I had of her late at night, or rather early mornings jerking off in the shower. It was often a preventive and medicinal act before going to work, releasing some of the urges and thoughts I was sure to have seeing her first period every school day. There were days she came in fresh out of a shower and I would often imagine that she was in the shower with me, that same morning.

  God, I’m going to hell.

  She’s younger than me.

  She’s a student.

  I want to fuck her brains out.

  My body takes over and I grip her by the shoulders, backing her to the wall, molding our forms together.

  “You’re wicked,” I breathe and then take her mouth with mine.

  “Maybe you should spank me.”

  “Don’t fucking tempt me.”

  She pushes me away and then lays her palms on the wall, bending at the waist with her ass out toward me. Looking over her shoulder, she says, “I’m not as innocent as you think, Mr. Barnes. Give me the punishment I deserve.”

  It’s official. I’m losing my mind. This can’t be happening. It’s not feasible. I’m imagining things, gone delusional from some sort of holiday induced craziness combined with recently being dumped by the woman I was supposed to marry.

  My hidden fantasies are coming to life.