The Twelve Dates of Christmas (7 page)

“Nick?” I said into the phone. “Is that you?”

“It's me.” He sounded weirdly somber. “I can't believe it, Lexi. I mean, I know you can do anything you set your mind to. But
I can't believe you actually pulled this off. It's almost kind of . . . I don't know,
eerie
.”

My stomach did a funny little loop-de-loop. “What?” I demanded. “What happened?”

“It was just like you predicted,” he said. “They sat together for the concert.”

“And?” I prompted.

Even through the phone, I heard him take a deep breath. “Well, you know that Jaylene chick isn't, you know, the bashful type,” he said. “Plus it's pretty cold out here tonight, and I think she's still wearing her Georgia wardrobe. So she started, like, snuggling up to Cam about halfway through. And she sort of grabbed his arm and put it around her, and he left it there.”

I winced. Yeah, it was what I had wanted to happen, more or less. That didn't make it any easier to hear. Or to imagine.

“What?” Allie whispered, clearly reading the expression on my face.

“He was probably just afraid she'd freeze to death,” Nick added quickly. “Like I said, her jacket wasn't really the kind of thing most people would wear to sit around outside in Wisconsin at the end of November. And her skirt was pretty short too, so her
legs were . . . Well, anyway. They didn't actually kiss or anything like that. At least not that I saw. But they were both laughing and talking when they were walking out just now, and she kept kind of squeezing his arm . . .”

“I get the picture.” I didn't particularly want to hear any more details. “Thanks, Nick. Now I guess I just have to wait and see what happens next. I've done what I could—it's up to Cam now.”

I hung up and told Allie what Nick had reported. She looked stricken. “Oh, Lexi,” she cried. “I'm sorry!”

“Don't be.” I steeled myself, doing my best to get the big picture back in focus. “This is what has to happen, remember? It's the best thing—for everyone.”

On Sunday morning, Cam turned up on my doorstep bright and early. His face was haggard and conflicted, and the deep shadows under his eyes made me wonder if he'd slept at all.

“Lexi,” he blurted out. “We need to talk.”

“Come on in.” I stepped back, and he followed me into the foyer. Luckily my
parents were both out, so we had the house to ourselves. “What's up?”

He took a deep breath. “Last night,” he blurted out. “Um, the concert?”

I could tell this wasn't easy for him. “Uh-huh,” I said. “Did you stay and watch? Did you run into anyone you knew there?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.” The words came slowly, as if each one had to be dragged up out of his toes with a rusty fishhook. “Um, it was that girl Jaylene? You know, from the banquet? And the food committee?”

“Oh, sure!” I said, doing my best to sound normal. As if I didn't know what was coming. I had to be strong—for both of us. “She seems really cool. And you guys have been getting along really well on that committee, right?”

“Yeah. And actually, we—we sort of got along pretty well last night, too.” He gulped, his face turning red. “I think she, you know, likes me. And—and you and I . . . well, I feel like we haven't really been communicating lately. Like you're not that into, you know,
us
anymore.”

“Oh.” I forced myself to stop there. I didn't want to throw him off.

“So anyway, I was thinking.” He paused and took another deep breath. “What do you think if we, you know, take a break for a while. See other people? I—I think that might be for the best, you know? What do you think?”

He gazed at me with those earnest, puppy-dog eyes of his, and I almost lost it. Yes, he was kind of digging Jaylene right now. And no wonder. She was fun-loving and interested and available. All the things I
hadn't
been lately.

But I knew Cam well enough to tell that he believed that maybe this was what I wanted, and that he wanted to save me from having to do it. I also suspected that all it would take was for me to tell him that it
wasn't
what I wanted, and Jaylene would be out of the picture just like that.

But I didn't say it. I couldn't let myself. If I backed down now, all the hard, painful work I'd done would be for nothing. And nothing would have changed. The facts would still be what they were. I couldn't let my emotions overcome logic.

“You may be right, Cam,” I said softly, not quite daring to meet his eye. “Things haven't been the same between us lately.
And I understand. I really do. We can still be friends, right?”

“Of course!” His hand twitched, as if he'd started to reach out to me and then caught himself. I pretended not to notice.

“Great.” I made my smile as sincere as possible. “That's the important part anyway, right? So consider us officially friends from now on, okay? And as a friend, I hope you and Jaylene will be really happy together. Really.”

After Cam left I had that same sort of breathless, almost out-of-body feeling I always got whenever I aced a big test or won an academic award. Cam always jokingly called it the “rush of success.”

This time, though, it was undercut with a feeling of sadness. Even more than I'd expected, actually. It had been a good four years—
really
good—and it was hard to believe it was over. But I tried not to dwell on that. Instead, I focused on the positive. That rush. I'd done it, against all odds! Now I could relax and look forward to the future without the constant, nagging worry over what would become of us next year. I could stop worrying about
hurting Cam and know that he was going to be okay.

Allie let out a wail when I called and told her. “I can't believe he did it!” she cried. “I never thought this would actually happen. I mean, I know you said it was going to happen, and so I believe it because you're usually right about stuff. But still, I never thought it would actually happen!”

“I know. You're a hopeless romantic,” I said. “But this is all for the best. You'll see.”

“Hmm.” She didn't sound convinced. “So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you going to start dating right away?”

I hadn't really thought about that. “I guess there's no reason to wait,” I said. “I mean, Cam already has someone. Knowing him, he'll probably feel all guilty and weird if he thinks I might be lonely without him.” I nodded, switching the phone to my other hand. “You know, you're right, Allie. That's very logical of you! I definitely should start dating other people right away.”

“That's not what I meant,” she protested. Then she sighed. “Okay. But don't
forget about the Rebound Guy Theory.”

“Remind me on that one?”

“Your rebound guy should be someone as different as possible from your ex,” she said. Then she sniffled. “I can't believe Cam is now your
ex
. . . .”

“Focus, Allie!”

“Okay, sorry. Anyway, so Mr. Rebound should be totally different, but nobody you would ever be serious about long-term. He's like the palate-cleansing sorbet you have between the courses of a good meal.”

I laughed. She really did have a way with words sometimes. Maybe she'd make that bestselling book happen after all.

“Okay,” I said. “Well, if you think of anyone that fits the bill, let me know. I'm a little rusty on this whole dating deal. I mean, the last time I went out with anyone but Cam, I still had a nine thirty curfew, and a peck on the lips at the end of a date was cause for gossip and scandal.”

“Aw, that's true. You and Cam have been together for so long. Too bad it had to end now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Look, I feel bad enough about this as it is,” I said. “Enough with the guilt trip, okay?”

“Sorry.” She sounded a bit wounded. “But I'm kind of glad to hear you admit that you feel bad. It's kind of hard to tell sometimes.”

“Whatever.” I didn't feel like getting in a fight with my best friend today of all days, even if she was practically accusing me of being a robot. “Sorry for snapping at you. I guess maybe I'm a little touchy right now.”

She immediately sounded more sympathetic. “No,
I'm
sorry,” she said. “You're allowed. I know this has to be rough—you know, getting dumped.” She paused, then couldn't help adding, “Even if it was, you know, all your idea.”

“Thanks.” I smiled, knowing she was trying. “Listen, I should go call Nick and let him know.”

“Okay. Call me if you need me.”

I'd barely hit the button to hang up when the phone rang in my hand. “Hello?” I said.

“Lexi? Yo, it's me. Bruce. So I hear you're swinging single these days.”

I winced. News travels fast in a small town. Still, Cam's buddy wasn't the first one I'd expected to call to offer his sympathies.

“Um, that's right,” I told him. “As you
probably heard, Cam met someone else. I'm really happy for them.”

“Cool. So you're over it already?” he said. “Then how about going out with me? You know what they say—you're supposed to get right back on the horse, right?”

I wasn't sure if that was one of his sleazy little jokes or just a bad choice of words. But it didn't really matter. Now that I thought about it, maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised to hear from Bruce. He'd been obviously lusting after me for years. I'd always thought he was at least half joking with all the little innuendos and lingering glances—after all, he'd never hesitated to do all that stuff right in front of Cam—but then again, maybe not. Okay, so maybe most guys probably wouldn't have asked me out within an hour of the breakup. But I'd always known that Bruce wasn't like most guys.

And maybe that was perfect. Allie's Rebound Guy Theory floated through my head, and I smiled. Complete opposite of my ex? Check. Nobody I'd ever be serious about?
Double
check.

“Sure, why not?” I said. “Sounds like fun.”

“Great!” Bruce actually sounded a little surprised. “You won't regret this, Lexi. What should we do? Dinner? Dancing? A candlelit evening at my place?”

I shuddered. There was rebounding, and then there was
rebounding
. “I have a better idea,” I said quickly. “How about the North Pole? The first is only a few days away.”

December 1 at the North Pole Theater was another of Claus Lake's holiday traditions. That was always the date of the old-fashioned movie house's first annual showing of
It's a Wonderful Life
. The theater served eggnog and Christmas cookies in the lobby, the whole place was draped in tinsel, and a barbershop quartet provided the preshow entertainment. It was quite the Xmastravaganza.

“Okay, sure, whatever turns you on,” Bruce agreed. “Pick you up at six thirty?”

“I'll be waiting with jingle bells on,” I joked.

As soon as I hung up, I wondered if I'd just made a big mistake. Rebound Guy Theory or not, was it wrong to go out with someone just to help make sure my plan stuck? Especially someone like
Bruce
?

But my logical mind soon overruled the twinges of guilt. Bruce wasn't exactly the sensitive type, and he was certainly used to getting plenty of rejection from me. Yes, he was as good a way as any to ease my way back into the dating stream.

“Whoa, it's packed! I hope we can get a parking space.” Bruce leaned forward and peered out through the windshield of his battered old Mustang.

I shot him a look. “Yeah, it's always like this on the first. Haven't you ever been before?”

“Nah. Not really my scene.”

We were driving slowly toward the north end of Pine Street. Traffic was bumper to bumper with cars lined up to get into the old movie theater's parking lot. I glanced out the window as we drove past the building. There was a wreath draped on the big old-fashioned red-and-white barber pole out in front that had given the place its name. People were lined up on either side of the pole waiting to get in.

Unlike Bruce, I'd come to the North Pole on almost every December 1 of my
life—the last three of them with Cam. It felt strange to be arriving with someone else.

We finally reached the alley leading back between the theater and the Laundromat next door. The narrow parking lot behind the buildings was almost full, but Bruce found a spot between a pickup truck and a tree.

“Here we are,” he said, turning off the engine and looking around at the dozens of people hurrying toward the theater from all corners of the lot, most of them huddled inside heavy coats and parkas. “Along with half the town, looks like.”

We climbed out of the car and joined the migration. A dusting of snow had fallen the day before and the weather was chilly and dry. The steamy air drifting into the parking lot from the back of the Laundromat hit my face like a damp washcloth, and I could almost feel my hair frizzing. And at that precise moment, I noticed a familiar green Volvo parked in the first row just behind the theater. Figured he'd arrived early enough for a good spot.