21. Colette #2
"Since now. Hand it over."
More rustling, more whispers. Mrs. Abernathy from the math department gets up and slaps a bill into the custodian’s waiting hand. I catch a triumphant grin on his face.
Hendrix's jaw tightens as he hands over the calendar. "Here. Hope you enjoy the view."
He gets up and collects up a small gift bag from the dwindling pile.
As I return to my seat, clutching my stolen prize, I notice more money changing hands. Ms. Thompson passes a folded bill to Coach Knight. The school counselor collects what looks like a stack of ones from the chemistry teacher.
"What's going on?" I whisper to the librarian sitting next to me. "Did I miss some kind of faculty-wide gambling email?"
The librarian shifts uncomfortably in her chair, suddenly very interested in the ceramic penguin she won during her turn.
"Mrs. Larson?" I press, keeping my voice low. "What's with all the money changing hands?"
She adjusts her glasses, refusing to meet my eyes. "Oh, it's nothing really..."
"Margaret." I use my teacher voice, the one that makes freshmen squirm in their seats. "I've covered your library duties three times this semester when you had migraines. You owe me."
She sighs, glancing around before leaning in close. "There's this bet going around town. Between Hendrix and Tucker from the coffee shop."
My stomach drops. "What kind of bet?"
"Tucker bet his vintage Star Wars poster against Hendrix's collectable Boba Fett figure that Hendrix couldn't get you to go on a real date and kiss him under the mistletoe by Christmas Eve." She wrings her hands. "The whole town's been placing side bets for weeks."
The room spins slightly as her words sink in. All those moments - the decorations in my classroom, the dance, the skating - were just part of some juvenile game?
"The whole town knows about this?" My voice comes out as a whisper.
Margaret nods miserably. "I thought you knew, to be honest. I mean, you've been so resistant to his charm, I figured you were playing hard to get on purpose. Mrs. Abernathy doesn't think so, though."
The firefighter calendar slips from my fingers, landing with a soft thud on the floor.
"So you're telling me that Tucker and Hendrix made a bet about my life. For some nerdy sci-fi crap?"
"In a nutshell, dear, yes."
I watch Hendrix across the room, laughing at something Wade just said. Everything makes sense now—his sudden return to town, his persistent attention, that kiss in the snow.
I was just a prize to be won in a stupid bet. Just like high school. I was right all along. His friends dared him to dance with the bookworm. To kiss the girl who'd never been kissed.
My whole body starts trembling as Margaret's words echo in my head. The room tilts sideways, and I grip the edge of my chair to stay upright. My chest feels too tight, like someone's wrapped steel bands around my ribs and is slowly squeezing.
I can't breathe. I can't think. The voices around me blur into a distant buzz as black spots dance at the edges of my vision.
A bet. It was all just a stupid bet.
The familiar panic rises, threatening to overwhelm me. But beneath it, something else burns - something hot and fierce that makes my hands clench into fists.
How dare he? How dare they all sit here, placing bets on my life like I'm some kind of... entertainment?
"And that concludes our white elephant exchange!" Janet's voice cuts through my spiral. She's standing at the front of the room, still wearing those ridiculous antlers. "Time for karaoke!"
"And first up for karaoke, we have Mrs. Phillips singing 'Baby It’s Cold Outside!'" Janet announces.
My hands have stopped shaking, but now my whole body feels like it's vibrating with rage.
I surge forward, shoving past chairs and startled colleagues.
My heels click against the floor as I intercept Mrs. Phillips as she reaches for the microphone.
Taking it from her trembling hands, I turn to face the crowd.
"You know what's really cold?" My voice echoes through the speakers. "Making bets about someone's personal life."
The DJ, a college kid with gauges in his ears, reaches for the mic. "Um, ma'am? It's not your?—"
I yank it away. "No, it is my turn. Because apparently, my life is everyone's entertainment anyway!" I spot Hendrix in the crowd, his face draining of color.
"To all of you who've been placing bets these past weeks - hope you're enjoying the show. And you?—"
I lock eyes with Hendrix, who's frozen mid-rise from his chair. "You haven't changed one bit since high school, have you? Still the same clown, making jokes at other people's expense."
The DJ tries to grab the microphone. "Ma'am, Mrs. Phillips is scheduled to?—"
"Mrs. Phillips can wait." I wave the poor woman back to her seat. "Play 'The Twelve Days of Christmas.'"
"But that's not?—"
"I said play it!" My voice cracks.
The DJ looks helplessly around the room, then shrugs and hits a button. The opening notes fill the awkward silence.
"Let me tell you what my “true love” gave to me this Christmas.
Starting with trust issues. Thanks for those, Hendrix.
Really appreciate it. Just like high school all over again, right?
Except this time it wasn't just a dare from your buddies to kiss the bookworm.
This time it was for..." I let out a harsh laugh. "A Star Wars toy? Really?"
I stumble over the first verse, but catch up with the music: "On the first day of Christmas, this jerk gave to me... a bet about kissing under a tree!"
"On the first day of Christmas, the hockey coach gave to me, nothing because he only cares about himself!”
Someone in the back whistles.
"On the second day of Christmas, the jerk across the street, decorated my house without asking and he made a stupid bet about me!"
Hendrix stands up, his chair scraping against the floor as he starts to leave. "No, no, stop that man!" I point at him. "Get up here, Hendrix Ellis, because I'm still talking to you!"
He storms up, snatching the second microphone from the DJ's trembling hands. His eyes flash as he cuts in:
Hendrix storms up, grabbing the second microphone. "Oh yeah? Well on my third day back in town, the Ice Queen tried to drive me out, with carolers singing modified songs about me leaving!"
“Ice Queen?’
“Yeah. That’s what everyone calls you. And now I see why!”
"On the fourth day of Christmas," I belt out, "he stole my practice space, with hockey players everywhere!"
"They're really butchering this," the custodian’s wife mutters.
"On the fifth day she drove," Hendrix cuts in, completely off-rhythm, "me to Toronto then abandoned me at the Blizzard Dome!"
"Maybe they should try 'Jingle Bell Rock' instead?" someone suggests.
"Six broken promises!" I screech, not even trying to match the melody anymore.
"Seven years of waiting for you to look at me!" Hendrix counters.
"My goodness, they're terrible," Mrs. Abernathy whispers.
“Eight hockey players missing pageant rehearsals.”
“Nine hours I stayed awake worried if you got home safely or if you stayed in Toronto because I didn’t want to call Emily in the middle of the night!”
"Should we stop them?" Janet whispers loudly.
We're nose to nose now, microphones forgotten, the music playing uselessly in the background.
"You made a bet about dating me!" I snap.
"You made a dare you could get me to leave town!" he fires back.
"Maybe they should try 'Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer' instead?" someone suggests.
"I trusted you, Hendrix. After everything I told you that night at the cottage - about my dad, about my mom. I opened up to you!"
"Colette, please?—"
"No! You don't get to 'please' me. You made me believe..." I swipe angrily at my cheeks. "I'm such an idiot. I actually thought you'd changed. That maybe you saw me as more than just the quiet bookworm you could tease. But this whole time, I was just a game to you."
"That's not fair!" Hendrix's face flushes red. "You're acting like I'm the only one who made a bet here. What about your little scheme with Daisy? Trying to drive me out of town by Christmas Eve?"
"That's different?—"
"How? How is it different?" He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. "You've been sabotaging me since day one. The carolers with their modified lyrics? Abandoning me in Toronto? At least I was trying to get closer to you. You've been doing everything possible to push me away!"
"Because that's what I do!" The words burst out before I can stop them. "I push people away before they can hurt me. And look - I was right! You were just playing with me, just like in high school."
"Playing with you? Is that what you think happened at that dance?" His voice drops dangerously low. "You have no idea what that night meant to me. No clue how long I worked up the courage to ask you to dance. And when you ran away after I kissed you..."
"You only kissed me because your friends dared you!"
"I kissed you because I was in love with you!"
The room goes dead silent. Even the DJ's music cuts out.
"I can't..." The words catch in my throat as hot tears spill down my cheeks. My face feels hot and blotchy, the way it always does when I cry. I hate that about myself - how obvious my emotions are, how I can't hide them behind a calm facade like other people.
I stumble backward, nearly tripping over my heels. The microphone slips from my hand, hitting the floor with a screech of feedback that makes everyone wince. But I barely hear it over the roaring in my ears.
My face feels hot and blotchy - I know what I must look like, red and splotchy the way I always get when I cry.
"Colette, wait-" Hendrix reaches for me.
But I'm already moving. A sob escapes as I turn and flee, pushing past Janet and her stupid reindeer antlers, past Wade and Sarah, past all my colleagues who've been betting on my love life like it's some kind of sport. My vision blurs as tears stream down my face.
The cold air hits my face as I burst through the door, but I don't stop. I can't stop. Not with his words chasing me, not with the weight of everyone's stares still pressing down on my shoulders.
Behind me, I hear the restaurant door open again, voices calling my name, but I don't stop. I can't stop.
I run until my lungs burn and my mascara leaves black trails down my cheeks. Until I'm far enough away that no one can see me fall apart.