Back to December (Enchanted Hollow #2)

Chapter 1

one

LAILA

TWELVE YEARS AGO

I rap my knuckles on the window.

Once.

Twice.

My thoughts spin so fast I can’t tell east from west, but I know one thing: I need Holden. If I can see him, maybe I can find my direction again.

The locks suddenly click, and my heart thunders in my chest.

“Well, this is a little backward,” he says as he shoves his window open, his dark flopping into his eyes. “Usually, I’m the one doing the climbing.”

My heart stutters, then steadies.

The climb is worth the view as he grins at me, leaning on his forearms on the sill, then pushes his glasses back up his nose with the tip of his forefinger.

But that’s all the time I’ve got to linger on my feelings about Holden Lockwood because I’m on the top rung of a ladder I found, in bare feet and a formal dress. Probably not my brightest idea to date.

“Can you please just let me in?” I practically whisper-shout.

His eyes round as he takes in my formal wear. “Laila–what are you doing? You’re not on a ladder in heels, are you?”

“No,” I grunt as I hoist a leg across the frame.

I kicked them off before I climbed. They’re lying in the grass with dirt clinging to the expensive soles.

He steps back as I propel myself through, but only enough to catch me as I fall into a heap on his bedroom floor.

“I’m pretty used to your wild ideas, honey. What’s going on?”

Thoughts spin wildly in my brain as my eyes roam his room.

It’s pretty masculine, but not really how I imagine a boy’s room would look.

There are posters of his favorite movies on the wall, and a stack of CDs on his nightstand.

I think we’re the only two people our age still listening to them, but I think they’re pretty cool.

Panic clutches my chest, sending my heart racing again.

I’m going to miss all of this.

“I’m having a crisis.”

The fact that I’m sitting here in a pile of tulle probably offsets the urgency that sent me here, but I didn’t know where else to go. A heavy sigh escapes me.

Holden crouches in front of me, his brown eyes roving over my face as he gently adjusts the layers of my dress.

“What crisis, La?” He’s so much calmer than I am, his voice steady.

“The one where my life is over.”

His face softens. I hate how childish I sound, but it’s true. Everything feels over.

I’ve got no idea how to tell him I’m leaving the one place that felt like home, after a childhood of bouncing around while my mom chased father figures for us. I thought we’d finally found a place with roots, you know? A place that will always feel like home, no matter what happens.

After my stepfather passed away a little over a year ago, Holden has been the one person who keeps me moving forward. He makes it easier to ditch the mask I wear around everyone else like I’m a superhero in hiding. Only, I’m not.

I’m just surviving.

If I don’t tell him, he’ll just discover it like everyone else tomorrow morning.

And Holden Lockwood is too important for me to keep my news a secret. I think telling him might break both our hearts, though.

He eases himself into a sitting position in front of me, stroking my cheek with his knuckles. Holden isn’t exactly a small guy, but he’s surprisingly gentle. At least with me.

“Tell me about it.”

“Ella ruined our plans for tonight.” I wince.

Mom is always blaming my stepsister for anything that goes wrong, and I hate that my default is to do the same. I know she’s not to blame—not when she spent part of her afternoon in the neighbor’s pumpkin patch after she got into it with Mom.

Panic and heartbreak and confusion are all at war within me. It’s discombobulating. Which is why it’s easiest to blame her when my universe is crumbling around me.

But Holden doesn’t scold me like our neighbor Luke, like I probably deserve.

“How did she do that?” he asks.

“She and Mom got into it, and Mom canceled our after-party for Midnight on the Hollow.”

Our after-party is the biggest social event of the year in this tiny town, at least in my world. And after whatever happened with Ella, Mom said, “We’re moving, and it would be a complete waste.”

So it only makes sense that she had something to do with it, even though my heart says she’s probably just as shattered as I am. She’s spent her whole life here.

I don’t know if she’s got anyone she’s losing other than her best friend, Gaby, from next door. Luke is her older brother, and I know he’s got feelings for her. I saw it on his face when he yelled at me earlier.

We aren’t as close as we used to be. Maybe he kissed her, and her heart is breaking like mine. And I’m over blaming her for my misfortune.

I’m a terrible person, and she deserves better than all of us.

“Come back to me, La,” he murmurs, slowly waving a hand in front of my face to bring me back to attention. “Tell me why you think your life is over and why you think your stepsister is the reason for it.”

“I went to talk to her after Mom cancelled our plans, and then Luke yelled at me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What does Luke have to do with Ella? I’m trying to follow you here. I really am.”

But I’m not making any sense.

“I know.” I clench my fists and let out a frustrated growl.

Emotions are not my strong point. Mom has pummeled it into me that Mitchell women don’t get upset, don’t cry, don’t show weakness of any kind. Vulnerability only leads to disappointment and heartbreak.

“Do I need to go speak to Luke?” Holden asks.

That pulls me slightly out of my spiral, and I smile at the imagery in my mind. Luke works hard on his family’s farm and played football for a couple of years before he quit. The two of them would be a surprising match-up. While I admire Holden’s nobility, it wouldn’t be fair.

“No. Maybe saying he yelled is an over-exaggeration.”

Holden nods, then reaches out to put his hand on my knee.

“Did you do something to deserve it?”

“No. But I might have if he hadn’t stepped in,” I answer honestly.

He physically stepped between me and Ella, like a knight protecting a princess.

Then, he used his ability to cut through my crap and a stern voice to point out that I’ve been a terrible stepsister lately. I hate that he can see that. Even more so that he called me out on it.

But knowing I’m about to be torn away from her before I can fix anything is making me spiral. I love Ella as much as Bridget. She’s always accepted me for who I am, flaws and all.

Like Holden does.

And oh my gosh, I’m so selfish.

I groan. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Talk to me, honey. You’re making me worried.” He slides his hand under mine so my fingers curl over his, then presses a kiss to my knuckles. Then another.

I close my eyes as tiny little pinpricks skitter across my skin.

“I can’t think when you do that.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Turn off your filters and just tell me the truth of whatever brought you here.” He tugs me forward a little, pressing a kiss to my wrist.

“Holden, this is serious,” I murmur, opening my eyes again.

He’s gazing up at me with a wicked smile, pressing another kiss a few inches higher on my forearm. This is a delightful distraction from my spiraling.

“Cara Mia.”

Beloved.

My head drops forward in equal amounts of frustration and amusement. We were going to be Gomez and Morticia for Halloween this year, and my heart breaks for what feels like the fiftieth time today. I had the perfect wig and everything.

I don’t deserve someone like Holden. I really don’t.

“Holden.” His name comes out almost like a plea.

He pauses at my tone, and his expression shifts. “Tell me, then.”

“We’re leaving.”

Holden freezes, caught between our previous playfulness and my underlying heartbreak. It’s that moment on a roller coaster where you’re suspended in time and space, right before the big drop.

I hate that I’m about to cause the big drop.

“What does that mean, Laila?”

“Mom said we’re leaving tonight. For good.” Even as I say them out loud, they don’t feel real.

“Leaving?” he repeats, disbelief cracking his voice and his calm demeanor.

“She says Enchanted Hollow is a waste. That we’ve outgrown it and it’s time for bigger and better things for the Mitchell women.”

He changes our positioning, so he scoots close and our legs press together, his jeans against my layers of fancy fabric. It’s a bittersweet physical representation of how different we really are. Maybe it’s for the best.

I’d break his heart, anyway.

“So this really isn’t about Ella,” he whispers. “It’s about your mom.”

“I wish I had a choice. A way to stay.”

It’s the closest I can get to saying, I don’t want to leave you because being with you is when everything makes the most sense.

“We could find a way,” he says. “Maybe—”

I shake my head. “She’d never allow it.”

And I’ve spent every minute this afternoon running through the stages of grief on repeat. I’ve flipped through every option I can think of, but since I’m only a sophomore in high school, I’m not old enough to make that choice.

There’s no way for me to stand on my own, and if I tried—well, I can only pretend that I can grasp the fallout from that. I don’t think my mother is a Disney villain, although this afternoon, she’s teetering close.

But I do know that she wouldn’t simply let me file for emancipation. That option is off the table. Which means, so is staying behind.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I whisper.

We’ve really barely talked about it, but I don’t want to waste our goodbye.

Holden shifts so we’re hip to hip, then gathers me in his arms. He smells like his family bakery: sugar and vanilla and pumpkin spice.

“That’s okay,” he says quietly. “But is it all right if I say something?”

I nod against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“This doesn’t have to be anything but goodbye for now.

We can work out how to make this work long-distance, I’m not going anywhere.

If you think I’m wasting this once-in-a-lifetime love just because you’re moving, you’re crazy.

” He presses a kiss to my temple, unlocking a fresh wave of emotion in my chest.

Strong, reassuring Holden.

I wish I could offer the same, that I could be so sure about the L-word.

Ella talks about it all the time, like it’s as common as the magic that runs through this town. Her parents met and fell in love next door; something out of a fairy tale, if you ask me. I think the closest I’ve gotten to seeing it in action is seeing it in my stepdad’s actions.

Holden reminds me of him a lot sometimes. He’s not quick to judge, and he’s patient with me. Like really patient. He never hesitates to drop whatever he needs to so he can be there for me, like right now.

So maybe this is love?

I’m just not sure how to give that back to him. Or what I’m offering him that makes me so special. But most of all, I don’t know how to accept what he’s offering me.

“Long distance is a lot of work.”

“I know,” he says.

“Wouldn’t you rather meet someone here? You could probably have your pick.”

“I’ve already picked, honey. You.”

I want to argue and tell him he should choose differently. He deserves someone who won’t walk around haunted by the ghosts of what was, or what might have been. Everything will be different now.

“So much work,” I repeat. Only this time, I’m not just talking about the distance. I’m talking about myself, too.

“You don’t think you’re worth that work?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

His thumb brushes away a tear. “I do. It’s why I love you.”

I can’t say it back—not yet. I want to make sure I mean it when I tell someone that, especially if it’s Holden.

When he kisses me, it almost makes me believe what he says. That I’m worth the work, and so are we. It settles something inside me and breathes something new into my heart in the process: hope.

We’re too young to promise each other forever, but I can certainly aim for it, anyway. I’ll tackle it the only way I know how: one step at a time.