Chapter 14 #2
The tree farm is every Christmas cliché come to life. Rows of firs and pines stretch across several acres, twinkling lights are strung between wooden poles, and speakers hidden in the trees pump out holiday music. There's even a small petting zoo with reindeer. It's horrifically festive.
"I think I'm getting hives," Caleb mutters as we follow Drew, who's practically skipping ahead.
"Focus on the fact that there's probably alcohol in the cider."
He smirks. "Now you're speaking my language."
Our group spreads out among the trees as Drew calls out detailed specifications for height, fullness, and branch spacing. I hang back with Caleb, taking a few photos for the social accounts.
"You're good at that," he says, watching me frame a shot of Gavin measuring a tree against Tyler's height. "The photography, I mean."
"Thanks. Just phone pics, but they work for our socials."
"Still. You have an eye for it."
Even after a couple of months hanging out and now our ‘dating’, I’m surprised by the compliment. I didn’t get them much growing up, and when they did come, it was usually because someone wanted something from me.
Sometimes they wanted something I wasn’t willing to give, and that became a whole other thing. I shake the memories off and try to explain how I learned. "My foster mom in tenth grade was a wedding photographer. She taught me some basics."
Caleb nods, not pushing for more details, which is appreciated. Most people get weird when foster care comes up.
"Want to find the cider?" he asks after finishing a panoramic shot. "Before Drew makes us measure every tree on the property?"
"God, yes."
We slip away from the group, following the scent of cinnamon and cloves to a small cabin with a sign reading "Hot Drinks & Treats." The line is blessedly short.
"Two apple ciders," Caleb orders when we reach the counter. He pays before I can pull my wallet out, waving away the protest. "You can get the next round of holiday drinks that Drew forces upon us."
The server hands us two steaming cups topped with ridiculous amounts of whipped cream and a cinnamon stick.
"This is obscene," I say, stepping aside.
"Agreed. Want to find somewhere to sit?"
We claim a small bench under strings of white lights, far enough from the speakers that "Jingle Bell Rock" is mercifully quiet.
Caleb takes a sip and raises his eyebrows. "Okay, this is good."
Tasting mine, I have to agree. "Definitely alcohol in here."
"It’s a Christmas miracle.”
He takes a sip, and the white lights above us catch in his dark hair. There's a small dot of whipped cream on his upper lip. My hand reaches out without permission.
"You've got—" I touch the corner of his mouth with my thumb, wiping away the cream. The contact sends a jolt through me, and I yank my hand back. "Sorry. Whipped cream."
Caleb looks at me with an unreadable expression. "What are you looking at?" he asks, but his tone lacks its usual edge.
"Nothing," I say too quickly. "You just… You look good today."
His eyes widen slightly, and the urge to sink into the ground is immediate. We're supposed to be pretending to date, not really flirting. But there's something about the way the light catches his face that makes it hard to look away.
The moment hangs between us, filled with something I’d like to avoid thinking about too much.
"JAMES! CALEB!" Gavin's voice shatters the moment as he barrels toward us, nearly colliding with me. "Sorry! But we found it! The perfect tree! Drew's doing a victory dance!"
He grabs my arm, pulling me up. "Come on! We need help carrying it!"
Caleb catches my eye, and he looks like he's trying as hard as me not to laugh as we follow Gavin through the trees. When we reach the others, Drew is indeed circling a massive Fraser fir, looking like he's found the Holy Grail.
"It's perfectly symmetrical," he says when he sees us. "Eleven feet tall, full branches all the way around, and the trunk is straight as an arrow."
"It's a tree, Drew."
"It's THE tree," he corrects solemnly.
It takes six of us to carry the monster back to the cashier's hut. Caleb and I end up directly across from each other, and every time a glance up happens, he's already watching me with that same unreadable expression from before.
At the register, the cashier, a woman in her fifties in a Christmas sweater featuring a light-up Rudolph, looks amused as ten university guys each pull out cash for their share of one tree.
"You boys from the university?" she asks as she counts bills.
"Yes, ma'am," Drew replies. "The Delta Psi Omega fraternity."
"A Fraternity tree, huh? That's a first for me."
"We're making memories," Gavin explains earnestly.
Caleb catches my eye across the counter and mouths "Help me" with such desperation that I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
"Alright, your tree's paid for," the cashier says. "Just head around back, and Liam will help you wrap it for transport."
'Liam' turns out to be six-foot-something of flannel-wearing, bearded masculinity who looks like he stepped out of a lumberjack calendar. He expertly wraps our tree in netting, muscles flexing beneath his rolled-up sleeves.
"You boys need help securing this to your vehicle?" he asks, his gaze lingering on Caleb a beat too long.
"We've got it," Gavin assures him while Tyler and Rick hold each other up as they snicker. I guess we found our Christmas lumberjack without trying.
"Please let me know if you need a hand," Liam says, still looking at Caleb. "With anything at all," he stresses.
An unexpected surge of irritation rises. Before thinking better of it, I step closer to Caleb, my hand finding the small of his back.
"Thanks, we're good." My voice is sharper than it should have been.
Liam's eyes flick between us, and he nods with a small smile. "Enjoy your tree."
As we maneuver the tree toward the parking lot, Gavin sidles up beside me. "Somebody's territorial," he singsongs under his breath.
"It's called being a good boyfriend."
"Uh-huh. And the death glare was for what?"
"Shut up, Gavin."
"Make me, Webmaster," he says, grinning broadly. "I think it's cute how protective you're getting."
I’m saved from responding by the logistics of strapping an eleven-foot tree to the roof of Gavin's truck. It takes all of us, plus rope, bungee cords, and a lot of swearing to secure it properly. By the time we're done, the sun is setting and the temperature is dropping.
"Phase one complete!" Drew announces. "Now we head back for decorating and pizza."
We divide back into vehicles. Again, Caleb, Rick, and I end up in the backseat of Gavin's truck, squished even tighter than before to make room because Gavin needs all the room up front for his super-long legs.
Caleb and I are pressed together from shoulder to thigh, and I really like it.
"Cozy back there?" Gavin asks, adjusting his rearview mirror.
"Delightful," Caleb says flatly, though he doesn't try to create more space between us.
I can feel his warmth all along my side, and every bump in the road causes our legs to press together. This is the perfect time to be getting a chub. Trapped between Rick and my fake boyfriend, with nowhere to hide. Brilliant planning, dick.
When I look up, I catch Gavin watching us in the mirror, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. I glare back, but he grins wider.
"What's so funny?" Rick asks, noticing our silent exchange.
"Ask James," Gavin says, laughter in his voice.
"Piss off," I tell him.
Rick looks between us, confused. "Is this some kind of inside joke?"
"Something like that," Tyler says diplomatically.
Caleb shifts beside me, and his breath is on my ear. "How many more Christmas activities do you think Drew has planned?"
"Based on his enthusiasm? At least a dozen."
He groans softly. "We're going to end up at every holiday event on campus, aren't we?"
"Probably," I say, then, quieter, just for him, "At least we'll be miserable together."
Caleb's eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us seems particularly miserable at all.
As we drive back toward campus, Christmas music playing softly on the radio and Caleb warm against my side, I find myself wondering if maybe, just maybe, I don't hate this holiday stuff quite as much as I thought.