Not in My Book

Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It was Christmas Eve and I was alone. I tried to not let it get to me. I put on a Christmas movie as I brushed my teeth and made breakfast, trying to get into the spirt, but it just made me feel more pitiful.

Back home, my mom would wake us up early with “Ay, Ay, Ay, It’s Christmas” by Ricky Martin and make us peel potatoes and shell hardboiled eggs. My sister and I would be covered in food by noon and if we’d complain, then my mom would just point at the Christmas tree with all our presents lovingly wrapped underneath it. Then my t í os and tías would come over with their families for dinner—which would last for hours, everyone filling our house with chatter and laughter. My T í o Alejandro would get too drunk, and my dad would try not to roll his eyes and when he inevitably did, my mom would elbow him. Then when midnight would hit, we’d open all of our gifts and dance and talk until three in the morning.

It was so quiet now, though. I moved gingerly as if, if I made even the smallest noise, I’d disturb the roaches lurking in the corners of my apartment.

It was nearly noon. I’d spent the morning writing chapters and going over my fellowship application yet again. It was Christmas. In New York. It felt anti-Christmas to stay indoors all day.

I knew Jess was going home, but I couldn’t remember when. And maybe Tyler and Logan were still here? I pulled out my phone and texted our group chat (which had been renamed to ho ho hoes )

Rosie: anyone still in the city? i was thinking of hitting up rockefeller to see the tree?? maybe hot cocoa at central park

Jess: my flight leaves today i’m on my way to JFK:(

Tyler: I’ve been home since last week. Sorry.

Logan: on a train to Westchester but i’ll get hot cocoa w u when i get back tho!!!

I groaned, tossing my phone on the couch next to me and picking up my laptop again. I was working chapters ahead of Aiden at this point. We were supposed to alternate chapters but I went ahead and wrote three consecutive ones. It’s not like I had anything better to do, and I figured it was best to churn it out while the words flowed freely. When I finally reached a good stopping point, I texted Aiden absentmindedly that I had finished, like I always did.

I was queuing up Frosty the Snowman when my phone rang. It was Aiden’s name flashing across the screen. I tossed my phone away from me, unsure what to do. But it kept ringing and ringing. Finally the ringing stopped—only to start up again when he called right back. I snatched it up quickly, contemplating for a moment before clicking the green button. “Aiden?”

“Why are you doing homework on Christmas Eve?” he asked, worry tinting his voice.

“Hi, hello. How are you?” I said pointedly. “Merry Christmas.”

“Answer my question.”

“I already told you. I’m doing nothing for Christmas. These are my Christmas plans.”

The other line was quiet for so long that I pulled my phone away from my ear just to check if he’d hung up. He hadn’t. Well, in for a penny, in for a dime. I already had Aiden on the phone, so I mustered up some courage and said, “Aiden, you know I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” I sucked in a breath. “Remember how I told you I was applying for the Frost Fellowship?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Yes, I remember.”

“Would you look over my submission?”

“ What ?”

“Will you look over my submission?” I pulled the doc up on my computer. “It’s due in a couple weeks, and I really want to be selected this year. I’ve been working like crazy on my piece. And I know you’ll tell me if what I’ve written is shitty or not, and I trust your judgment since we’re quasi-friends now and—”

“Rosie, it’s Christmas Eve,” he interrupted.

“Well you don’t have to read it tonight.”

He exhaled sharply and said, “No, that’s not what I meant. Of course I’ll look at it … but you shouldn’t be working on Christmas Eve.” He paused for a second and said, “Meet me in Union Square.”

My head jerked back. “What? Now?”

“Yes.”

My heart was beating with so much hope that I didn’t allow myself to believe it. “Aiden, I’m not going to force you to—”

“You’re not forcing me. I’m asking you.”

“But you said you wanted us to keep some distance …” I was pushing him, I knew that. Aiden giveth and Aiden taketh away. But I was confused. I’d rather spend Christmas Eve by myself than with someone who didn’t really want to be with me.

“I know, I know. I was wrong, Rosie, I shouldn’t have said that.” He sighed, and it sounded a lot like he was letting go of something that had been weighing him down. “Rosie. Will you go to Union Square with me?”

I smiled, pressing my ear closer to my phone as if that would somehow get me closer to Aiden. “I can be there in an hour.”

“I’ll see you then.”

The minute he hung up, I raced around my apartment. After I showered and dried my hair, I shucked on a Christmas sweater and slathered on makeup. So much adrenaline kicked through my veins, I had to redo my eyeliner three times.

The Holiday Village at Union Square was always a mad house. On Christmas Eve, it was unbearable. I stood at the southeast entrance, where all the crafts people held their booths, and was immediately overwhelmed. Aiden had texted me to meet him at the Wafels and Dinges booth (most likely because he knew I would drag him there anyway), but there was an impenetrable crowd of people surrounding the booth.

I was so short that it was impossible for me to peek my head up over the crowd, but I tried as hard as I could on my toes.

“Rosie!” a voice barked out.

I whipped around and Aiden Huntington was pushing past people in a black knitted Christmas sweater. His peacoat was open, a beanie snug on his head.

I warmed looking at him despite the cold and smiled, trying my best to get to him.

When I finally made it, people were swarming all around and I was pushed forward into his chest—but he caught me, his arms grasping my waist steadily. He sent a death glare to whoever had shoved me before looking down and meeting my gaze. The smell of his cologne and the feel of his hands on me had been the star of my dreams since we kissed, since we wrote that scene together. I was thrilled to finally be standing here with him after wishing I could fix everything between us. Aiden Huntington was better in reality than any sort of fiction.

“Hi,” I said softly, reluctantly stepping away from his touch.

“Hi.” His lips quirked up. “Merry Christmas. I like your getup.”

I pulled back, pulling my coat open even wider. “What? This old thing?” A couple of Christmases ago my dad bought the entire family llama Christmas sweaters. He was so eager for us to be in touch with our Peruvian culture that whenever he saw anything with a llama he bought it immediately. This particular sweater had a llama with a scarf around its neck and a Santa hat on its head. Real bells hung off the sweater, and I’d paired it with my jingle bell earrings. “And look at you—I’m shocked you own a Christmas sweater.”

He looked down at his sweater, pulling his peacoat open so I got a better look. It was more wintery than Christmassy, but it was probably as festive as Aiden got. It was a thick black sweater with a red pattern across the chest. A thin black scarf was hanging loosely around his neck.

“It’s my only one. My mom got it for me in high school; I’m surprised it still fits.”

“I like it.” I smiled up at him. His green eyes met mine briefly before looking away, toward one of the booths. I rubbed my fingers together, suddenly nervous. I had been so excited to see Aiden and to have something to do on Christmas, I’d forgotten that the last time I saw Aiden I was close to crying and yelling. “Aiden,” I said tentatively. “Are we—”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, then grimaced. “You should know how sorry I am. I know … what I said wasn’t right or fair, and I keep turning it over in my head. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

I took a breath. “I think if Max can forgive Hunter, then I can forgive you,” I said softly. “I’m sorry, too.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” He smiled softly. “How about for the rest of break, you be Rosie and I’ll be Aiden?” His gaze met mine, unwavering, determined. “No secret messages, no unspoken words. Just us.”

I nodded once, smiling. “I’d like that.”

“Good. Because as Aiden, I’d like to tell you, Rosie, that you’re delusional if you think I’m waiting in this line for a Belgian waffle. I had no idea it’d be this long.”

I tsked, observing the line. It had wrapped around the small booth, infringing on the space of another. The waffle makers were moving at lightning speed, adding Nutella and powdered sugar.

“It’s not just any Belgium waffle. It’s Wafels and Dinges. It’s a New York staple.”

Aiden rolled his eyes and said, “As a New Yorker, I can certify it’s not a staple. C’mon, let’s keep walking. When I walked in, I saw a booth you’re going to love.”

Aiden led me toward the other side of the park. I tried my best to follow him but people kept walking between us, bumping into me and pulling us further apart. Aiden looked over his shoulder for me, frowning when I wasn’t there. I raised my hand and when he spotted me, he stopped in the middle of traffic. Plenty of people gave him glares, but he ignored them and just held his hand out to me. A silent question that I hesitated to answer. I told myself that the kiss was still forgotten, and he was only doing this so we wouldn’t get lost.

When my glove-clad hand slid into his palm, I could feel the warmth of his skin. He squeezed once before he continued walking, and I clung to him.

He nodded at a booth as we approached and I immediately gasped. “Oh my God.”

He grinned. “I thought you’d like this.”

“Aiden, I have to get one. I don’t care the cost. I will go bankrupt for these.”

I stepped into the booth and started flipping through the small prints. They were dogs in the place of iconic movie scenes. It had the Titanic Jack and Rose pose but with a corgi and a pug. A poodle was holding their skirt down a la Marilyn Monroe. A beagle was dancing to “Greased Lightning.”

And then I found it—the perfect print to hang in my room. “Aiden!” I said, waving him over. “This one. This is the perfect one.”

He stepped forward, his head tilted. “What’s this from?”

I snapped my head toward him. “ When Harry Met Sally. The greatest film ever made.”

A German Shepard and a golden retriever were facing each other in Central Park like on the movie poster, fall leaves decorating the background. The golden retriever, Meg, was standing dignified, her hands clasped in front of her. The artist had even captured Meg Ryan’s unruly hair.

“How much for this one?” I asked the man in the booth.

“Twenty.”

I turned to Aiden. “Chump change for a masterpiece like this. Twenty bucks? I would’ve paid fifty.”

“Maybe don’t say that so loud, Rosie,” Aiden muttered.

I happily paid the man, who wrapped my print carefully and placed it in a bag. He held it out for me, but Aiden grabbed it before I could.

“I’ll hold it. C’mon, let’s keep looking around.”

We walked around the Holiday Village twice. I kept getting distracted by the holiday foods and unique booths. They had nearly everything I would never need but desperately wanted.

We stopped at a booth that sold antique jewelry and when my eyes snagged on a delicate silver locket I couldn’t help but gasp. I carefully held up the necklace, turning the piece over in my hand.

“That’s pretty,” Aiden said, peering over my shoulder.

“My lita gave me one just like this when I was little. I would wear it all the time. But one day the chain broke, and I didn’t notice until it was too late.”

My lita, or abuelita, had worn it the first time I visited Peru when I was seven. I was sitting in her lap at dinner one night and I couldn’t stop playing with it. I gushed over how beautiful it was, my mom translating for me. She slipped it over her head and over mine. The cold metal pressed against my skin. I clutched onto the locket all night, afraid to lose it. I wore it everywhere after that.

In high school, my friends and I had a tradition that after any winning football game we’d go to Waffle House. One night, sitting in our usual booth, I realized the locket was gone and the chain must have broken. Simon drove me back to the stadium, and I spent hours looking through the field and stands, only to come up empty handed.

“How much?” Aiden asked the vendor.

“Three hundred,” the man replied. “It’s an antique, pure silver.”

“Oh,” I said softly, setting it back down. I couldn’t justify spending that much on a necklace. “That’s okay, thanks anyway.”

We finished our walk through the park and after I detoured to the nearby Whole Foods to use the bathroom, we stood at the edge of the square, away from the crowds.

“Where to now?” I looked up at Aiden.

“Wherever you want. You mentioned Macy’s earlier.”

My mouth parted in surprise. “You would suffer through Midtown for me?”

Aiden smiled and nodded. “Yeah, Rosie. I would.”

I hoped it didn’t show on my face how much I liked Aiden in that moment. He’d never smiled at me like this before we were friends. When we truly despised each other, I got frowns all day, etched into his face. I used to take satisfaction in the fact that he’d probably develop wrinkles from the frown lines. But now, the wrinkles had floated up his face toward his eyes, crinkling in the sunlight. This smile was especially designed and produced for me.

“Train or walk?” he asked.

“Walk,” I said immediately. “I want to check out the window displays on our way there.”

He grabbed my hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and said, “Lead the way.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m begging.”

“I won’t. ”

“Aiden, it won’t be that bad. I promise.”

He shot me a dirty look. “You know it’ll be that bad. That’s why you’re begging.”

“No one even cares about Rockefeller Center. All the tourists care about Times Square and Broadway. Who cares about some dumb tree?”

“Exactly. It’s a dumb tree so we don’t have to go.”

I gasped, slapping his arm. “It’s not dumb. It’s the Christmas tree of New York. Take some pride in your city.”

We had spent way too much time at Macy’s, but it was nearly impossible to walk in the store of wall-to-wall people. I settled for just looking at the window display outside. Every year it featured Tiptoe the Reindeer and a cute little inspirational story. I couldn’t get enough of it. Aiden walked through the display twice with me.

But now I really wanted to go to Rockefeller Center to see the tree. I figured once we were there I could convince Aiden to go ice skating, but he was flat out refusing to go to that part of the city, claiming it would be “too busy.”

He leveled his gaze with me and said, “I take pride in New York. I just don’t think the epitome of Christmas in New York is Rockefeller Center. It’ll be at least ten times the people here.”

I pouted. “I warned you I wanted to do touristy stuff.”

We were standing in the middle of Herald Square. Busy, last minute shoppers were rushing around us as the sun began to set. I shivered slightly, and Aiden didn’t say anything as he unwrapped his scarf from his neck and pulled it snug around mine.

“You’re shaking so hard your earrings are ringing.” He smiled down at me.

“I don’t need your scarf.”

“Me either.” His nose and cheeks were adorably red from the cold. “We need to decide what we’re going to do.”

“Okay. Rockefeller Center. Times Square. Central Park—”

He covered my mouth with his hand laughing. “I’m not doing any of that. It won’t even be fun. With your luck, you’ll probably get mugged. I have an idea. It’s going to get dark soon. We head somewhere on the Upper East Side, if you’re up for it.”

I furrowed my brow. “What’s uptown?”

“It’s a surprise.”

I did want to go to Rockefeller Center, but Aiden was right. It was an overwhelming crowd here, I couldn’t imagine what kind of hell there would be around the plaza. And if Aiden had a surprise for me, there was no way I was saying no.

“Fine, fine let’s go,” I agreed.

We took the train uptown, heading toward Aiden’s surprise.

“I think you’ll really like this place, but it’s okay if you don’t. We can leave if you don’t want to,” Aiden insisted as we walked down the block.

“I’m sure I’ll like it,” I assured him.

We stopped at a restaurant I’d never been to before, Serendipity Three. There were people waiting in the cold, sitting on a bench outside.

“C’mon, we’ve got a reservation,” Aiden said.

Before he could pull the door open, I placed a hand on his arm stopping him. “Aiden, not if you had to call your father. Not if you traded this for a dinner with him, it’s not worth it.”

“It would’ve been worth it, Rosie, just so we’re clear,” he said, firmly, his gaze locking with mine. “But no, I didn’t call him. I made this reservation that night we got burgers on the off chance you’d want to spend today together.”

How was I expected to not fall for this man? All day he’d been nothing but thoughtful and to know he’d made a reservation so far in advance on the off chance I’d like this place? I was feeling more certain that wherever he went, I’d go, too.

When I stepped inside, I gasped, wide eyed. The restaurant was a lot bigger on the inside than I had expected. It was pure camp—pink everywhere, with unique art lining the walls. A stained glass chandelier hung from above. There were giant bells and garland covering every inch of the store. I turned in a slow circle, trying to take in every detail and stow it away for later. It was glamorous.

The waitress seated us at a small table upstairs and placed two giant menus before us. It was impossible to take everything in at once. My eyes would snag on a different decoration every second. The table was small, and my knees kept brushing with Aiden’s, but I didn’t mind.

“How’d you find this place?” I asked.

Aiden opened the menu and said, “My mom liked to celebrate here. Whenever something big in our lives would happen—she’d sell a book or I’d make a good grade—she’d tow us all the way up here and order a big sundae to split.”

My heart burst in my chest. I pushed his menu down so he’d meet me gaze. “Aiden, this made my Christmas.”

His cheeks tinted and said, “I’m glad you like it. If you trust me, I’ll order for us?” I opened my mouth, but he held a hand up to stop me. “And my Christmas gift to you is that it’s on me. Don’t worry about the money, okay?”

I sighed. “Normally I would protest, but after learning you’re a secret billionaire—”

“I’m not even a millionaire ,” he said with a laugh.

“—I suppose I can allow it.”

A little while after he ordered, the waitress came back with a giant plate of fries and two bowls of decadent hot chocolate with straws sticking out of them.

“This,” Aiden said, scooting one of the bowls closer to me, “is the iconic Frrrozen Hot Chocolate.”

My eyes lit up. “Explains the straw.”

“Since you live essentially off sugar and nothing else, I thought you might like it.”

I took a sip and moaned. The texture was a bit unusual, but the chocolate was so sweet that I eagerly sipped more. “How have I never known about this?”

Aiden took a sip from his own and said, “The first time I asked a girl out on a date, I took her here. She hated it. She thought there was something morally abject about having something frozen and hot simultaneously.”

I raised a brow. “Did you two go on a second date?”

“No. Not liking frozen hot chocolate is a deal breaker.”

I smiled. “Did you bring all your dates here to test it out?”

“A few,” he admitted. “The worst was a girl who was lactose intolerant but was too embarrassed to tell me. She had the frozen hot chocolate and spent the rest of the date in the bathroom downstairs.”

I winced. “Poor girl.”

He shrugged. “It could’ve gone worse.”

“The worst date I went on was when I was in middle school.” I leaned forward.

His eyes sparkled in excitement as he sipped on his drink.

“Back then, I really liked this guy. He had Justin Bieber hair and said ‘swag’ after everything. Somehow he got my number, and we texted back and forth. We never really talked at school though so I thought it was more of a love letter type of romance, which made it even better for me.”

“Of course,” Aiden said.

“Eventually, he asked me out on a date and obviously I said yes because it was my first date ever . I gave him my address for his mom to pick me up and everything. We were going to see The Hunger Games together because I had read the books and loved them, which I also thought was really romantic.

“When I opened my front door, his smile vanished and he started looking around. He said, ‘Oh, hey Rosie. Is Lizzie here?’ Turns out, he thought he was texting Lizzie, my best friend, the entire time and was going on the date with her .”

“Oh no.” Aiden’s eyes widened.

“He’d never said my name, and I thought it was so romantic that he only ever called me ‘babe.’ His mom saw the whole thing from the car and forced him to go out with me anyway.”

Aiden’s elbow was bent on the table, his hand covering his mouth. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny.”

I rolled my eyes, sipping my hot chocolate. “It’s a little funny.”

He shook his head, but his eyes still had that glint. “Rosie, that’s kind of traumatic.”

“Thank you!” I said, tossing my hands in the air. “That’s what I said! My parents were like, ‘Oh, you’ll get over it. It’s character building.’ ”

“What happened when you explained the situation?”

“Let’s just say it was the worst two hours of my life.”

Aiden burst out laughing, his eyes squeezing shut. It was the infectious type of laugh that bubbled at the bottom of your throat. Soon enough, I joined in.

“I needed that,” Aiden said, wiping his eyes. As we sipped our drinks, we exchanged more embarrassing stories from our childhood. I was sworn to complete secrecy about the time he laughed so hard milk came out of his nose and it landed on his crush in third grade.

Later, as we slurped up the last bit of Frrrozen Hot Chocolate, Aiden said hesitantly, “I didn’t know you were so serious about the fellowship.”

“I’m a little embarrassed that I had no idea it existed even though it’s such a big deal. But when I mentioned it to Ida she really encouraged me.” I shrugged, pushing the mug away from me. Even though my diet consisted of mainly sugar, I had a hard time drinking all of the hot chocolate in one sitting like Aiden. “Obviously it would provide so many important opportunities for me, and it’d help with my writing career in the future … but getting that tuition money would be life changing. I’m already drowning in student loans; if I got this I wouldn’t have to drag out my MFA for years. Maybe I could go home more, too.”

Aiden stiffened, his gaze not quite meeting mine. I knew money talk could throw people off, especially for people like Aiden who had so much of it.

“I guess I also want to prove that I can ,” I said . “That the romance I write is good enough for people to forget their bias with genre lines, you know?”

Aiden nodded. “I get that. I can’t wait to read it—but I can’t promise that just because we’re friends, I’ll be nice.”

“That’s kind of why I want you to look over it.” I said honestly, smiling sheepishly. “Don’t get me wrong, you suck in workshop. You’re mean. Like really mean.”

“I get it,” Aiden said flatly.

“But you’re honest. It’s rare when you compliment someone and when you do it feels good.” I blushed. “With your feedback, I’ll know if I’m in over my head with the submission.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” Aiden said confidently. “You’re an amazing writer, Rosie.”

My heart glowed in my chest. I never wanted this day to end, but the restaurant was closing up soon. Aiden so graciously paid the check and we ambled out into the street.

“I can barely walk, I’m so full,” I groaned.

“Just wait till you get their Blackout Sundae. They put a full piece of cake on top of a giant ice cream sundae.”

I turned around to study the restaurant. “You think they have one they could give us to go?”

Aiden laughed and grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the subway. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

We made our way to the station together, but I dreaded the moment we passed through those turnstiles. Then the most perfect Christmas of my entire life would come to an end, and I’d go home to my lonely apartment.

We were shoulder to shoulder as we went down the stairs to the station. It wasn’t as crowded as usual. Everyone was most likely back home with their families, preparing their turkeys and presents.

The way the station was divided, the N, R, and W trains—which I assumed Aiden would be taking—were on the platform immediately following the turnstiles, but I had to go down another set of stairs to get to the 6.

I stopped and turned to him. “Thank you for today. I had the most fun I’ve had in a really long time.”

He smiled softly. “Me too, Rosie.”

An N train came whirring into the station and my gut clenched. “Well, I don’t want you to miss your train so …”

He tilted his head in confusion. “I figured we’d take the 6? The Astor Place stop isn’t too far from you, right?”

“Right,” I said slowly. “But I don’t want to make you go all the way to East Village when you’re on the other side of town.”

He rolled his eyes and gently grabbed my elbow, leading me toward the platform. “You’re ridiculous. Of course I’m going to get you home. C’mon, I think I hear a train approaching.”

I wasn’t used to this Aiden that I had spent the day with. The one who considered my feelings and safety before his convenience. I’d hoped he would take the train with me just so we could prolong our time together, but I thought I was just living in my own world again. That I was making Aiden into someone he wasn’t.

When the train arrived, we got on a semicrowded car. Aiden and I stood, facing each other, holding onto one of the bars toward the center of the car. It jostled us slightly, him stepping forward so he wouldn’t lose his balance. His chest was nearly pressed to mine. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his green eyes. I wished with all my might for this to be real. For Aiden’s hand to slide around my waist, his hand moving the few inches on the bar to grasp mine.

At every stop, either of us could’ve stepped away, but as if by silent agreement, as if we craved this closeness with each other, we didn’t.

Soon enough, the jostling stopped, feeling more like swaying. If I really wanted to be delusional I could pretend that Aiden and I were dancing on this subway together.

“Rosie,” Aiden whispered at one of the stops, his voice thick. “I—”

“Helloooo, New York!”

Aiden was interrupted by a group of performers coming onto our train. One of them held a speaker on their shoulder. “We hate to interrupt your Christmas Eve, but we have a little show for you!”

“This is hell,” I whispered to Aiden. “This is my nightmare scenario.”

One side of his mouth hooked up in a grin. “You obviously haven’t had a mariachi band on your train yet.”

The performers were rapping and dancing on one side of the car while another guy passed around a hat that was barely getting any tips.

“Just don’t look at them,” Aiden murmured. “New York rule number one is to not make eye contact.” I nodded, wanting to follow his instructions, but I couldn’t help but glancing at them from my peripheral. “Rosie,” he warned.

“I’m sorry!” I whispered. “They’re kinda good.”

The train came to a stop and Aiden tugged me out of there before I had a chance to compliment the performers.

“It’s Christmas,” I insisted as we walked up the stairs. “We should’ve given them something.”

“You’re gullible,” Aiden said gently. “If you gave them a dollar, they would’ve asked if you had Venmo to give more. That’s how it goes.”

“Whatever,” I huffed.

The Astor Place station was only a few blocks away from my place, and the walk went by too quickly. I wanted to find an excuse to take another loop around the block with Aiden.

We stopped in front of my apartment building, facing each other. Aiden glanced over at my door, his eyes rolling.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s Christmas so I won’t even mention the brick.”

“Ronny Jr.,” I corrected, grinning up at him.

He nodded. “I’m really glad we’re okay. I was … worried. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Me either,” I admitted. “I think maybe you and I are just destined to fight with each other. We both need to develop a thicker skin so this doesn’t happen again.”

“You’re right,” he said. Then quickly added, “Don’t let that go to your head. You’re rarely right.”

“Not true, but I’ll let it slide. It’s Christmas after all.” I nudged his shoulder with mine, playfully.

We fell silent for a moment before a surge of determination went through me. I had spent so much time sitting in the passenger seat, waiting for other people to make the sweeping gestures. It was time that I did it. I liked Aiden. I had been lying to myself about it for so long, but I couldn’t anymore. Not when my smile was fading quickly at the thought that I might not see him again until classes started back up.

He shifted his feet. “Well, I should—”

“Do you want to come up?” I forced the words out of my mouth, my cheeks blazing. Aiden’s face remained impassive, making my cheeks heat even further. “My family just always stays up late for Christmas. And we usually do dinner, then gifts, then dance, and when everything winds down my dad will convince us to watch It’s a Wonderful Life and we’ll all be half asleep but you know, I still cry when George Bailey—”

Aiden’s hand settled heavily on my shoulders and said, “Shut up before you run out of breath. C’mon, let’s go up.”

My lungs were filled so tightly with hope, my mind and heart had no room for anything other than Hunter. Fissures from every past heartbreak were repaired with every smile he gave me from across the room.

I wanted to walk to him and grab his hand. To feel his skin against mine and hopefully, one day, his heartbeat against mine. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair and tell him I was his … if only he could be mine.

— Excerpt from Untitled by Rosie Maxwell and Aiden Huntington