Getting Kole for Christmas (6 page)

“I wish
my
job would force me to go to Hawaii,” Evan mutters.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Kole whispers, nudging me in the arm. “Meg got in just a couple of hours ago.”

I nod. “Okay.” Of course I already knew that – Meg is one of my closest friends.

“Well Mike wants us to go with him while he asks her.” He pauses there, pulls out his phone, and then shoves it back into his pocket. “Right now, actually. You up for it?”

Me? Up for watching one more girl in my life get asked to a dance that I will most definitely not be going to?
I shrug. “Sure.”

“Wait,” my mom hollers. “Let me get a picture of you two before you leave.” I spin around, wondering how she possibly heard our conversation and get flashed with a blinding light.

“Thanks.” She proceeds to take a picture of Eli as he holds up his cookie alongside the table of teenage girls.

I have to get out of here. My eyes are starting to sting and I’m pretty sure I might cry right in front of everyone.

“Let’s go,” I murmur. “I’ll grab my coat and meet you guys in the car.”

Watching Meg get asked to the dance is better than I imagined it would be, yet worse at the same time. I watch from the opposite end of her grandma’s driveway – across from Kole, Mike and Chase – and wipe at silent tears. A mix of happy and sad. I try to form a word from the two emotions and wind up with sappy or had, which only confuses me more. I am a total mess and can only pray that I get my act together before we meet back up at the car.

“That was awesome,” Eli whispers, reminding me he fled to my side of the driveway as well.

I sniff. “Yeah. It was.”

“Do you think she’ll like the doughnuts?”

I nod again. “
Doughnut make sense for us to go to the dance together
?” I say, reciting what Mike penned on the card. “Of course. What girl wouldn’t?” There isn’t much sarcasm attached to my reply. We’re talking two dozen Krispy Kremes here, and I never joke about those things.

“Kole says he really messed things up with you.” Eli’s comment takes me by surprise. I glance up to see Kole, Chase and Mike all running for the car. I take Eli’s hand and pretend to be extra cautious about not being seen by walking around the back of the home through a thick den of snow-covered trees.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he said that he kind of kissed you a little and that after that you stopped talking to him.”

Doom and hope collide within me as I consider what Eli just shared. The frigid air seems to shoot past all my layers and blast right into my blood.

I flash back through all of it in my mind: Right after the interrupted kiss – I had dodged him for days. Kole thinks that the kiss is the reason.

It feels like an icy chunk of snow is working its way into my gut. I never thought about the timing before, or how he might take it. I was just trying to get distance because my feelings for Kole were stronger than I wanted them to be. And my hopes for him asking me to the dance were growing like a noxious weed.

I took what I thought was a much-needed break but really all it did is make me love him more. And come to find out – give Kole the totally wrong impression about my take on the kiss.

I groan, getting sicker and sicker by the minute.

Snow crunches beneath our boots as I ponder what to say back. Eli tightens his grip on my gloved hand and the act warms my heart. What a cute kid. What a cute kid who has just shared something that could seriously change my life.

Maybe..
.

“He didn’t mess things up,” I blurt. “One of our friends messed things up because she interrupted us. But she did that on accident.”

Eli shoots me a look, tipping his head back so I can see his face. “You mean you
liked
him to kiss you?”

I nod, feeling braver than I’ve felt in ages. “Yep. I really liked it.”

He laughs and scrunches his nose. “Really? You want him to try again sometime?”

Whoa, this kid is good. “Sure,” I say while the word YES YES YES screams in my head. My heart feels warmer already; I can barely believe I’ve said it. I told Kole’s little brother that I liked the kiss. That I want him to try again.

But is it too much? Will Kole back off if Eli tells him? What if he’s only worried because he doesn’t want to ruin our friendship? Our happy, platonic friendship?

No,
I tell myself. I’m not going to play the what-if game anymore. If Kole likes me, then he can know that I might actually like him back. It’s okay if he knows that. And if he doesn’t like me in that way, well then, he can still learn the truth. It’s time for me to show my cards. At least one of them, anyway.

The ice inside me changes to fire, heating me from the inside out. I loosen my scarf as we near the car, but pause to say one last thing before we get in. If I want things to move forward between me and Kole, I need to make sure this conversation gets back to him.

“Hey, Eli?” I whisper.

He looks up at me, the bill of his cap to the side now. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for telling me about what Kole thought. Will you please tell him he was wrong?”

He nods.

I know having a kid do my dirty work seems cowardly. But for me, this is brave. It’s the bravest I’ve been in two years, where Kole’s concerned.

“Also,” I say, “you can tell him the other thing I said too, if you want. That I wouldn’t mind if he…”

A wide grin spreads over Eli’s face. “Okay. I will.”

The dress shop is unreal. Never have I seen so much lace and chiffon, glitter and beads, fake compliments and jealous glares.

Melanie falls in love with the first dress she tries on, and for good reason. She looks like a goddess in it. I rave my genuine reviews and even help her pick out matching heels. The twins aren’t quite so easy. Not only does Tiff try on –count them – fifteen dresses before liking even one of them, she leans directly toward the opposite of whatever I say. I tell myself not to be offended. We’re as close to opposite tastes as it gets.

So while she hunts down whatever
I
wouldn’t be caught dead
in, I decide to hunker onto the plush purple couch and stare at the walls while rehashing my talk with Eli.

“You want to come get a soft pretzel with us?” I glance over to see a grin on Tiff’s face. She must’ve finally had some luck. She stands next to Melanie who’s grin is impossibly wider.

“Yeah, come with us. Trina’s going to take hours.”

I mull it over for about two-point-three seconds. Getting out of this place sounds nice, but breaking bread with two girls who just found the perfect everything for the dance I’m not going to is less than appetizing.  

“No thanks,” I say. “I’ll stay here for moral support. Not Trina – Mom,” I clarify.

I know I’ve got a while to be with my thoughts because Trina is still making her way through every dress the place has in stock. It’s just how she rolls. She’ll most likely cycle back to the second or third one she tried on and settle on it. Trina’s the reason I sometimes hedge on the whole having-kids-of-my-own thing. 

The thought leads me to wonder what kind of dad Kole will be. I can recall at least three times he brought Eli along for our hang-outs, but one occasion stands out most in my mind: Bowling. Kole, who usually wins every time, rolled one gutter after the next, staying just points below his brother so he wouldn’t come in last place. For someone as competitive as he is, that must have been a real sacrifice.

I sigh. Kole will definitely make a great dad one day. Like, the best. Soon my conversation with Eli is back in my head. I groan while sinking lower into the couch. If I could bury myself beneath the cushions and disappear completely I just might do it. One minute I’m glad I was so bold. The next I’m wanting to hit rewind on the evening and give myself a solid punch in the head for even thinking about revealing so much.

I am very aware that what I said to him will set things in motion, whether forward or back. If Kole feels the way I do, it could push us out of the friend zone at last. If he doesn’t, then I’ll most likely lose him altogether; he won’t want to be friends if he knows I’m secretly pining after him.

Millions of mean, fiery pinpricks stab my heart at the thought of losing Kole. My eyes start to sting.

“Would you like to try it on?”

My mom’s question throws me off-guard. “What?”

She sinks into the sofa next to me and gives me that apologetic smile of hers. “The dress you’ve been ogling since we got here.”

I fold my arms. “I hate the word ogling,” I grumble. “And I’ve never tried on a dress like that in my life. Probably don’t even have the boobs for it.”

She chuckles. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem. Besides, this place has all sorts of things to help in that area. Just ask Trina and Tiff.”

I cover a laugh and begin to fidget. First my hand tapping on the arm of the couch. Next the toe of my shoe on the bright tiled floor. “I don’t want anyone to see me.”

She shakes her head. “They don’t have to.”

I motion toward the dressing area, knowing Trina will appear at any minute. My mom glances toward the other corner of the shop. “Those are dressing rooms too.”

I spin around to see. “They are?”

She nods.

“Okay. I’ll hurry.” In seconds flat I secure my dream gown and am closing myself into one of the large, carpeted stalls. My adrenaline is pumping like I’ve started a full-on sprint. I can hear Trina talking to the sales woman; it makes me realize how close she was to seeing me sneak in here.

I waste no time in getting out of my T-shirt and cut-off sweats. The gown is absolutely stunning. Nothing bright or flashy like red or blue; it’s a color I can’t quite describe but my mom calls it
champagne
. Elegant beadwork traces gorgeous patterns along the bodice. Light, flowing layers of sheer, jewel encrusted tulle make up the skirt. Carefully I unzip the back, remove it from the hanger, and dare myself to step inside.

Once the thin straps are looped over my shoulders, I spin to face the mirror, unable to wait another minute.

I feared – very badly –while waiting on that couch that if I did work up the nerve to try on this dress it would be an utter disappointment. I worried that my plain appearance would somehow clash with something so elegant. Yet I can admit – at least to myself – that this is not the case. I step closer to the mirror, holding the unzipped dress with one hand, and lifting my hair with the other.

I’ve never been a fancy, flashy pretty-like-my-sisters sort of girl. I’m more simple. Common, I guess. But in this moment, in this very dress, I could swear the girl in the mirror is beautiful.

I smile and fight back tears all at once. I feel relief above all else. Relief that I can actually like myself in an evening gown, even if I may never have the occasion to wear one during my high school life.

A wave of disappointment pulls me from that spot as I realize that Kole will never see me in this dress. Never see me looking the way I do right now. 

“Do you need help with the zipper?” It’s my mom. Her voice is just a whisper, which tells me that Trina must be trying on dress number two hundred and thirteen.

I pull back the curtain before I can chicken out.

My mom’s hand shoots to her mouth. Tears fill her eyes. Actual tears.

My face warms. “It’s a pretty dress,” I mumble, looking down at the ground.

“It’s a beautiful
girl
,” she corrects, “in a pretty dress. Oh, Kylie, I love it.”

I nod. “Yeah well, there’s no need to zip it up or anything. I’m not going, so…”

But my mom’s hands are on my shoulders before I can finish. “Turn around,” she encourages. She zips up the back, and I can hardly believe it actually fits. I haven’t considered whether it would be too big or too little. Only that it couldn’t possibly fit just right because the chances are so slim.

“This was made for you,” she says.

The sales woman rushes over with a pair of heels. “Here, try these on.”

I stare at her for a moment, wondering if she’s been looking at me through some hidden surveillance camera. Or did she simply see me sneak in with the dress? Either way, I step into the matching heels and sigh. They’re gorgeous. A little big, but a perfect compliment to the dress.

“Let me grab you the size down,” she says.

“No thanks,” I say, stepping out of the heels. “I’m not going to the dance. I just thought I’d try this on. You know, for fun.”

“Well that’s too bad, dear. You look absolutely stunning in this dress.”

I look at the bottom corner of the mirror, reminding myself of what my mom has drilled into my head for the last ten years of my life.
Learn how to take a compliment
,
Kylie
.

My sisters have it down to a T. I’m a work in progress. I channel that happy place inside me once more. The part that is grateful just to look nice in the dress. I pull in a deep breath, set my eyes right back at the woman, and smile. “Thanks.”