23. Colette #2
Despite everything, I'm not angry anymore.
And it's not just because he saved the pageant.
Maybe it's because it's Christmas, and you can't stay mad at people on Christmas.
Or maybe I just needed time to cool off and process.
I don't know. But I realize now that I've fallen in love with Hendrix Ellis. And I miss his stupid handsome face.
Now there is only one scene left—Santa's entrance. My eyes dart to the opposite side of the stage where Principal Chen should be getting ready for his entrance. He was just there, but now he disappeared behind the black curtains.
"Where did he go?" I whisper-hiss to no one in particular. My stomach churns as I scan the backstage area.
I wave frantically at Josh, our stage manager, my hands fluttering like panicked birds in the dim backstage lighting.
He nods and darts off to find Principal Chen.
The music swells, right on cue—the familiar strains of "Silent Night" filling the auditorium—and my heart races so fast I can barely breathe.
Did he get stage fright all of a sudden? What will the rest of the cast so if Santa no-shows for baby Jesus? How good are they at improv?
I close my eyes, unable to watch this disaster unfold. But then I hear the collective gasp from the audience, followed by excited whispers.
My eyes snap open.
Santa strides onto the stage, but it's not Principal Chen's stiff walk. This Santa moves with confidence, purpose. Even through the fake beard and padding, I'd recognize that swagger anywhere.
Hendrix.
He kneels at the manger, his movements graceful despite the bulky costume. When he speaks his lines, his voice carries across the auditorium, deep and clear: "I come to honor the Christ child, for He taught us that the greatest gift is love."
My hand flies to my mouth as relief washes over me. He remembered the lines perfectly—lines he must have memorized just ten seconds ago.
The actors gather around him, their faces glowing with wonder, completely caught up in the magic of the scene. And as I watch Hendrix—my ridiculous, wonderful Hendrix—playing Santa with such genuine warmth, my heart feels like it might burst.
I lean against the doorframe, watching the chaos of post-show excitement unfold. Parents swarm the stage with phones raised, capturing their little angels and shepherds in various poses. Addison and Brenden are already planning a cast party at the pizza place.
"That was amazing, Miss McAllister!" Lily hugs me tight, still glowing from her performance as Mary. "Did you see how everyone stayed in character?"
"You were all incredible." I squeeze her back, my heart full.
Through the crowd, I spot Hendrix still in his Santa suit, surrounded by a group of children—probably younger siblings who will be Brookking High students in a few years. He's completely in character, his deep "Ho Ho Ho" echoing through the auditorium as he pats each child's head.
"Now remember," he tells a wide-eyed little girl, "you need to be fast asleep before I can deliver presents. And don't forget the cookies!"
"What kind do you like best?" she asks seriously.
"Well," Hendrix strokes his fake beard thoughtfully, "chocolate chip are my favorite, but Coach Claus says I need to watch my sugar intake."
The children giggle, and more crowd around him. He handles each one with such gentleness, listening intently to their Christmas wishes and responding with just the right mix of jolly warmth.
"Santa needs his carrots for the reindeer too!" he calls out as another group approaches. "And maybe some hot chocolate to keep warm!"
I press my lips together to hide my smile.
The auditorium empties slowly, parents herding their little angels and shepherds toward the exit. Hendrix peels off the fake beard and shrugs out of the padding, though he keeps the red suit on. My heart does a silly little flip when he catches my eye and grins.
"Want to get some air?" he asks as though treading eggshells with me.
I nod, following him out the side door into the crisp December night. Snow crunches beneath our feet as we walk, the silence comfortable between us.
"Thank you," I finally say, my breath clouding in the cold. "For everything—the costumes, the set... stepping in as Santa. You saved the show."
Hendrix shrugs, his hands stuffed in the pockets of the Santa suit. "It was nothing. Really." He glances at me sideways. "The kids would have been amazing no matter what they were wearing or what the set looked like. You're a fantastic director, Colette."
Something warm blooms in my chest at his words, at the sincerity in his voice. For the first time, I let myself really look at him—not the class clown from high school or the NHL star, but just... Hendrix. This wonderful, ridiculous man who came through for me when I needed him most.
I realize with startling clarity that I could love him. That maybe I already do. That maybe I want to spend the rest of my life with this goofball who makes me laugh and challenges me and sees the best in everyone.
The thought should terrify me. Instead, it feels like coming home.
"About the bet..." Hendrix scuffs his boot in the snow. "I need you to know I forfeited days ago. I gave Tucker my Boba Fett figure and everything."
"You're such a nerd."
"Yeah, I admit it." He chuckles."But there's more. Tucker told me he and Daisy orchestrated the whole thing. They had their own bet going. He wouldn't tell me what they wagered, but I'm pretty sure he was trying to lose on purpose just to get Daisy to admit she's into him."
I laugh, remembering Daisy's suspiciously specific suggestions about stranding Hendrix in Toronto. "That explains why Daisy was so invested in our dare."
"It was never about any bet for me, Colette." Hendrix takes my hands in his, and despite the cold, warmth spreads through my entire body. "I've wanted to be with you since high school. I just didn't know how to tell you without making jokes or being a complete idiot about it."
"You're not an idiot." I squeeze his hands. "Well, maybe sometimes. But you're my idiot."
His eyes light up. "Does this mean...?"
"You drive me crazy, but you also make me laugh. You push me out of my comfort zone. And maybe that's exactly what I need."
"I love you, Colette. I love how passionate you are about your students, how you fight for what you believe in. I love that you make me want to be better."
My heart swells, and suddenly I can't hold back the words anymore. "I love you too. And maybe we balance each other out, you know? Me being all buttoned-up and serious, and you..." I gesture at his Santa suit with a smile. "You making everything lighter, brighter somehow."
Hendrix pulls me closer, one hand cupping my face. "So what you're saying is, we're perfect together?"
As perfect as a lopsided gingerbread house.
I grab the front of his Santa suit and pull him down to me. When our lips meet, it feels like every Christmas wish I've ever made coming true at once. His arms wrap around me, lifting me slightly off my feet as snowflakes dance around us.
His kiss warms me from head to toe, making me forget about the December chill. When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against his chest, breathing in the scent of him mixed with the new fabric of the Santa coat.
Behind us, I can hear the last few cars leaving the parking lot, Christmas carols fading into the night.
Above us, snow continues to fall, turning Brookking Sound into our own private North Pole—witha hockey player Santa. And for once in my life, I don't need everything to be perfect. This moment—standing here with Hendrix under the stars—is better than perfect.
"You know what this means, right?" I say, remembering something.
"That you're finally admitting I'm irresistible?" Hendrix waggles his eyebrows, still holding me close.
"No." I tap his chest. "It means you lost both bets. Tucker gets your Boba Fett, and I successfully got you out of town before Christmas Eve."
He squints at me. "That's the same bet, I think."
"But you're here now, and that's all that matters. At least until you get traded to somewhere far away?"
His eyes widen. "Actually..." He grins that infuriating, wonderful grin. "I signed with the Titans this morning. Full contract, no trade clause." He brushes a snowflake from my nose. "They wanted me to play tonight's game, but I couldn't miss your pageant. Or the chance to tell you how I feel."
"So you're saying...
"I'm saying I'll be here every chance I get. And maybe..." He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. "Maybe you could come visit me in Toronto sometimes?"
Looking up into his warm brown eyes, I know my answer. I've always known it, really. Ever since that first dance in high school, when the class clown showed me his heart.
"Yes," I whisper, standing on tiptoe to kiss him again. "But only if you promise to wear that Santa suit again."
"Deal." He grins against my lips. "And maybe you can dress up as Mrs. Claus sometime."
I roll my eyes, but I can't help smiling. This wonderful, ridiculous man is mine. And maybe that's the best Christmas miracle of all.