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Hot Cocoa Hearts Page 7


  I gave her a questioning look but went ahead and opened it, and my heart surged with happiness. Inside was the new Sweet Garbage CD, with the photo I’d taken of the crying baby on the cover. On the back of the CD was a photo credit with my name on it! A Post-it attached to the CD read: Sorry I missed you this morning. Talk later? Sawyer.

  “It looks amazing!” Jez said, peering over my shoulder as I smiled.

  I nodded. “But how did he get it into my locker?”

  Jez snorted. “Hello? I used your combination to open it for him? I was staked out here prepared to torture you with my poetry until you either laughed or spilled the beans.” She shrugged. “You’re lucky I didn’t have to.”

  The bell rang, and as we made our way down the hallway, a couple of kids who passed us held up their copies of the CD, saying, “Cool cover, Emery. Nice pic!”

  By the time I got to homeroom, I was starting to feel more like myself. I sat down, hoping that I might be able to talk to Sawyer before Mrs. Finnegan came in. He caught my eye as he walked in, giving me a heart-melting smile, but we didn’t have the chance to say anything to each other.

  Nyssa had texted me over the weekend asking if I could help her brainstorm Secret Santa gifts, and I’d suggested the two of us get a pass for the library to work on it. So, right after Mrs. Finnegan took attendance, Nyssa and I left for the library.

  The second we walked out of the classroom, Nyssa giggled. “Did you see Mrs. Finnegan’s smile when she wrote out our pass?”

  I snorted. “Yeah. I could practically hear her warm, fuzzy thoughts about breaking down social barriers with her Secret Santa idea. Teachers eat up that sort of thing.” I did my best impression of Mrs. Finnegan’s high-pitched voice. “Oh, how sweet! The Underground and the—” I hesitated, not sure I should push my luck.

  But Nyssa surprised me by finishing it for me. “Glee Princess.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and shrugged as we walked into the library. “It’s okay. I’ve heard the nickname in the hallways.” She leaned toward me. “I’m proud of it. I mean, I have a reputation to uphold, you know?”

  I laughed. “Well, you pull it off well when you want to.”

  “Thanks,” Nyssa said, smiling, as we sat down at a table. “You told me you had an idea for Sawyer’s present?”

  I nodded, my heart fluttering at hearing his name. “Well, you know he and Gabe are always working on lyrics for their songs? So what about giving him some composition sheets?”

  Nyssa’s eyes lit up. “That’s perfect! I can have my mom take me to High Notes after school today.”

  “Wait a sec,” I said. “This one’s supposed to be a homemade gift, remember?”

  Nyssa shrugged, giving me the smile I’d seen her use with teachers to butter them up when she wanted an extension on an overdue project. “Yeah, but the thing is, I don’t really do homemade …”

  I slapped some blank sheets of paper down on the table. “You do today.”

  She raised one slender eyebrow. “Whoa. I don’t remember ordering any blunt with a side of bossy.” She looked at me for one long minute, as if she expected her comment to scare me off. For most of the student body at Fairview, it probably would’ve worked.

  But I looked at her, undaunted, and shrugged. “Subtle’s not part of my vocabulary.” Her eyes widened, and then, as much to my surprise as hers, we broke into laughter.

  “Okay, so maybe I can tone down the bossiness a bit,” I said when I’d caught my breath. “But you need to get in touch with your DIY side.”

  She blew out a breath. “I wish I had one. My mom loves to say, ‘Why DIY when you can buy?’ ” She blushed. “I know how that sounds, believe me. But the gifts I’ve been getting from my Secret Santa are so unique. This morning I found a bag of homemade herbal teas in my cubby in the glee practice room.” She smiled, reaching into her bag to show me one of the sachets, and I pretended like I’d never seen them before in my life. “It was such a thoughtful gift. I hoped I could do something cool like that for Sawyer, too.”

  My face warmed at the compliment, but I tried to keep my expression unmoving so I wouldn’t give anything away.

  “The thing is,” Nyssa continued, “I’m not much good at arts and crafts stuff. My mom never even let me have markers when I was little. She was too scared I’d draw on the Bugatti sofa.” She giggled, then whispered, “It would have felt fantastic to draw on it.”

  I laughed. Who knew the Glee Princess was a closet rebel? “Before you go Picasso on your mom’s furniture, maybe give the composition sheets a try? With all the singing you do, I’m sure you can figure out how to draw some music staffs, right?”

  She stared at the paper, then bit her lip. “It could look completely dumb when I’m finished.”

  “Or it could look amazing,” I said, checking my watch. “We still have a while before we have to get back to class. I can help. I mean, he is my Secret Santa, so it’s the least I can do.”

  She smiled in relief. “Thanks. That would be great.”

  “Now that we’ve got that settled …” I pulled some thin-tipped markers out of my bag. “Markers, meet Nyssa. Nyssa, meet markers.”

  Nyssa rolled her eyes but took the markers, and we bent our heads over the paper together.

  By the time the bell rang for lunch, the gloom I’d felt earlier had lifted completely. I’d had fun working with Nyssa on Sawyer’s gift, and now she had a dozen composition sheets finished and tied with a red Christmas ribbon.

  As I walked down the hall to get my lunch bag, I was so absorbed in imagining the smile Sawyer would have on his face when he unrolled the sheets, that I didn’t notice Alex standing in front of my locker until I nearly bumped into him.

  “Hey, daydreamer,” he said with a smile as I pulled my head out of the clouds. “Didn’t you hear me say your name? You almost walked right by.”

  “Sorry,” I said, feeling a blush creeping across my cheeks because he’d caught me in Sawyer-adoration mode.

  “Don’t be. I’m glad you looked happy.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, looking suddenly, surprisingly bashful. “Look, I feel bad about what happened on Saturday. I just wanted to make sure you were okay—”

  “Thanks,” I said, cutting him off. I didn’t want to rehash it all over again, especially now that I’d gotten it off my mind. “I’m fine. Really.”

  He nodded, but his eyes stayed on mine, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced. “So we’re good, then?” he asked. “You haven’t written me off as a complete pest?”

  I laughed. “I haven’t written you off. The jury’s still out on the pest part.”

  “I knew it.” Relief swept his face, and he elbowed me. “I told you. I have a habit of growing on people. You like me. Admit it.”

  It was supposed to sound joking, I was sure, but there seemed to be an earnestness underneath his smile that made my heart unwittingly speed up. I swallowed, telling myself I imagined it.

  “Like who?” a familiar voice said at my shoulder. My heart somersaulted as I turned to see Sawyer watching me intently.

  “No one,” I blurted, then immediately backtracked. “No! That’s not true. I like someone.” Omigod, what was I saying?! “Everyone.” I blew out a breath, my face blazing. “I like everyone.”

  I almost didn’t dare raise my eyes, but when I did, it was into Sawyer’s amused face.

  “Glad to hear how you feel about … everyone,” he said, his smile growing. “I was just on my way into lunch, if you want to come—”

  “Sure!” He didn’t need to ask twice.

  There was an awkward millisecond of silence before he added, “Alex, you can hang with us, too …”

  “No,” Alex said quickly, seeming suddenly eager to leave. “Thanks.” He gave us a wave, then added to me, “I’ll see you at the mall later this week?”

  “Um, yeah,” I said, irritation flaring inside me. Why did he have to bring the mall up in front of Sawyer, when he knew I hadn’t told Sawyer about working there? I
t would only start questions, and sure enough, as soon as Alex was gone, Sawyer turned to me.

  “The mall?” he asked.

  I shrugged nonchalantly. “I was thinking about going to pick up some Cocoa Cravings hot chocolate for my big Secret Santa gift for the holiday party next week,” I lied.

  Sawyer nodded. “I still need to get the last gift for mine, too. I want it to be perfect.”

  Perfect. The word melted my heart. He wanted my last gift to be perfect.

  We got to the doorway of the cafeteria, and his hand brushed against my shoulder.

  “Wait a sec,” he said. “I wanted to ask you something.” I froze, my pulse skittering hopefully. “You know, Sweet Garbage is doing our Bah Humbug concert on Friday night at the Teen Center. And your photo sort of makes you a part of the album. Whenever I look at it, I can see how much my music inspired it.”

  “You can?” I asked, surprised. That wasn’t exactly how the photo had happened, but I didn’t want to burst his bubble. “I mean, it did!”

  He nodded knowingly. “You and Jez should come Friday.”

  Hope surged through me. I heard myself say, “I’d love to come.”

  He smiled, wide and full. “Cool.” Then, when I thought my knees would buckle if he looked at me for even a second longer, he swiveled on his heel and loped into the cafeteria.

  As I walked in beside him, I saw Jez, Gabe, and a few of the other Undergrounds take notice. It could’ve been my imagination, but I thought I glimpsed understanding on their faces, as if they were accepting some new element into their midst. As if Sawyer and I weren’t just walking in together. We were together.

  “Like a couple,” Nyssa cried delightedly when I found her waiting at my locker after lunch. “That’s how you and Sawyer looked when you walked into the caf.” She pulled a compact from her purse to check her makeup. “I just stopped by your locker to share that.”

  I grinned. “Thanks. I didn’t think you even knew where my locker was.”

  “Oh, I knew, but honestly,” she said, peering inside it, her nose crinkling, “you should really consider some accessorizing.”

  “My coffin pencil case is as far as I’ll go,” I said drily. “Sorry.”

  She clucked her tongue. “That’s just morbid.” Then she smiled. “So you two are meshing, just like I predicted?”

  “He invited me to his concert Friday,” I told her as we walked to our classes. “But we’ll see what happens. It’s not like he was asking me on a date or anything.”

  “He will,” Nyssa said with confidence. “I wonder if he’ll ask you out after the holiday party next week. You know, when he tells you he’s your Secret Santa. That would be like a Hallmark commercial.” She sighed. “They always make me cry.”

  “I hate Hallmark,” I said, rolling my eyes at her starry-eyed smile.

  “Of course you’d hate them. But they sort of make me wish for the kind of close-knit family I don’t have.” She shrugged. “Anyway, what are you going to wear to the concert? Please tell me it won’t be black.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know me enough to give me fashion advice.”

  She pursed her lips, “Excuse me, but when you set the fashion standards for the entire school, you can give advice to anyone you want.” I laughed at that, but her expression remained undaunted. Wow, she actually believed it! “I could loan you something,” she continued. “I have a coral cardigan that would look adorable on you.”

  “Cardigan? Adorable?” My eyes widened in horror. “Those words are banned from my vocab.”

  She sighed. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t try …”

  “I appreciate the offer,” I said more gently, seeing how sincere she looked.

  I reached into my bag to make sure I had the books I needed for my next class, then froze as my hand hit something foreign and crinkly. I pulled out a round, heavy object wrapped in silver tissue paper. A note dangled from it that read: Here’s a little something from across the universe. Your Secret Santa.

  “Ooh. Gift number three’s arrived!” Nyssa said, her eyes lighting up. “Open it!”

  Her enthusiasm was contagious. I ripped it open, then gasped as the tissue fell away to reveal a Beatles snow globe with a tiny yellow submarine suspended inside. It was made from a mason jar and a plastic bathtub toy, with a photo of the Beatles pasted inside. It had to be one of the most creative ideas I’d ever seen.

  “This is fantastic!” I cried, giving it a shake to watch tiny strawberry-shaped confetti rain down around the submarine. “And I was talking with Sawyer about the Beatles last Friday during lunch! We’re definitely on the same wavelength.”

  “Yeah,” Nyssa said, suddenly avoiding my eyes. “Um, listen, Em. I totally think you and Sawyer are peas in an Underground pod. But hypothetically speaking, the Secret Santa thing may not be exactly what it seems …”

  My brow crinkled. “What do you mean?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I can’t believe I almost gave it away.”

  “Gave what away?”

  But she was already hurrying down the hall. “Never mind. It’s all good!” She was rambling. “The concert will be great. See you later!”

  I stared after her, baffled. What had that been all about? I didn’t have a clue. But I decided it didn’t matter. I couldn’t expect to understand Nyssa, even if I was starting to like her.

  A contented warmth filled me as I turned down the hall to my class. One thing was for sure. My day might have gotten off to a rocky start, but nothing was going to ruin the rest of it.

  Or that’s what I thought until three hours later, at Cocoa Cravings, when I told Alex that Sawyer had invited me to the concert.

  “The concert, huh?” Alex mumbled. “I guess you’re pretty excited about that.”

  “You guess?” I repeated in disbelief. “Of course I am! This is huge for me.”

  “Just … don’t get your hopes up too high.” His eyes flicked to my face for a second, then shifted right back to the floor. “Maybe he only wants another groupie.”

  “Hey, I’m no groupie,” I snapped, shifting my feet uncomfortably.

  “All I was trying to say is …” He sighed, shaking his head. “Look, let’s drop the whole thing, okay?”

  “No,” I persisted. “You have something to say, so say it.”

  “Fine.” He propped the mop against the wall and ducked behind the counter to clean the hot chocolate machines. “I think you have Sawyer on a pedestal. You’ve spent so much time creating this perfect idea of him in your head, you’re not seeing everything realistically.”

  “That’s so typical,” I grumbled, frowning at him. “Instead of letting me enjoy this, you have to push my buttons.”

  “Oh, and you don’t push mine? I told you we should drop it, but you don’t know when to quit.”

  I threw up my hands and turned to leave. “I don’t know why I even told you!”

  I had one foot out the door when Alex called out, “Em, wait!”

  I froze, torn between my urge to keep walking and my reluctance to leave angry. Sure, we were always debating each other, and if I was honest, I enjoyed the challenge of it, even looking forward to our joking squabbles. This felt different, though, like he had this pent-up annoyance at me that I was only registering for the first time. I didn’t know where it was coming from, or why. But I didn’t want to end things on a sour note. It didn’t feel right. Not with Alex.

  I turned with a huff. “What?”

  His smile was slow to come, but I was relieved to see it when it did. “I haven’t given you your hot chocolate yet.” His voice was straining toward playfulness, but it fell short.

  I gave a clipped laugh, then walked slowly back to the counter. “You’re never going to give up, are you?”

  “On you? Not a chance.” He set a steaming cup on the counter and nodded. “Go on. I call this one Peppermint Patty.”

  I couldn’t help but grin over the steaming cup, then took a sip. “Hmmm,” I sai
d, tapping my chin thoughtfully and shifting into a snobbish British accent. “The minty undertones are refreshing, leaving a chill on the tongue. They strike a nice balance with the chocolate.”

  Alex’s face lightened hopefully. “No way. Could it be that I conquered the Master Cocoa Critic?”

  I made a big show of seeming to debate. “Mmmmm … no.” I grinned as his head dropped in melodramatic defeat. “But, I have to admit, you’re getting closer.”

  “I knew it!” he cried triumphantly. “All I need is a little more time to perfect my formula.” He rubbed his hands together in mad-scientist fashion. Then we were both laughing, and the awkward tension I’d felt between us vanished. When our laughter died down, Alex’s expression softened, the indifference from earlier gone.

  “Sorry about before,” he said quietly. “That all came out wrong. I wasn’t trying to pick a fight.” His eyes were thoughtful, and full of the kindheartedness that had become so familiar to me over the last few weeks. “You shouldn’t come to me for advice about Sawyer. I’m not any good at crushes.”

  “Does that mean you have one?” I asked, feeling a sudden and inexplicable sinking in my stomach.

  “No,” he blurted, staring at the floor. “A while ago, there was a girl I’d thought maybe …” He shook his head, but I caught his creeping blush before he ducked his head behind the counter to straighten the toppings containers. “But it was never going to happen. She had her heart set on somebody else.”

  “Oh.” I felt a wave of relief. I’d never imagined Alex crushing on a girl before, and the idea made me feel unsettled and strangely jealous. But I couldn’t be jealous! That was impossible. I’d be happy for him if he found a girlfriend. Wouldn’t I? “Well, Sawyer might not happen, either. I’m only going to the concert.” I tried to sound as casual as possible, but my heart raced at the thought.

  Alex nodded. “Anyway, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

  “What’s that?”

  He gestured at my elf costume. “Your outfit. It’s missing something …”

  “Really?” I said hopefully. “If my ears fell off, good riddance! I hope I never see them again!”