Page 105 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
Could true love develop in the town’s candy cane store?
“You’re kidding, right?” I sayas I look out the window at the snow falling to the ground. “I’m not driving in that.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Taran says. “This is the only class offered before the competition, and you have to take it.”
“It’s an hour’s drive away,” I say. “And if you haven’t noticed, it’s snowing.”
“The roads will be clear,” Aunt Cindy says. “They always take care of the roads here. No need to worry, dearie.”
“Umm, but it’s snowing. I don’t drive in the snow. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Stay on the road,” Taran says, being unhelpful as she maps out more lights on a chart of the house that she created.
“You’re seriously okay with me driving your car through a snowstorm an hour away to Clayton to take a candy cane-making lesson from a guy named Theodore Garvey?” I ask.
Taran sighs and brings her attention to me. “Yes, I am. I can’t take you because I have to take care of Aunt Cindy, and Aunt Cindy needs to do her physical therapy. So I suggest you put your big girl pants on, get dressed, and start driving.”
Irritated with my sister, I retreat to my room and shut the door. This is ridiculous—can’t I watch a YouTube video or something? Wouldn’t that be safer than driving in the snow? I mean, if you’re a seasoned snow driver, then you know the tactics to stay on the road. But this is terrifying. Don’t they care about my safety at all?
I glance out the window and catch the white flakes floating from the sky down to the ground. Sure, it’s not a heavy snow, but it’s enough to worry me. To make me sweat, to create this prickling feeling that goes up the back of my neck, letting me know that this might not be a good idea.
I know Taran won’t let me stay home though, so I grab a pair of leggings, a warm sweater, and fuzzy socks along with undergarments and bring them into the bathroom where I take a quick shower, leaving my hair up since I washed it yesterday.
Once out of the shower, I wipe my hand across the fogged-up mirror, revealing my reflection.
You can do this.
You can drive in the snow.
It’s for the competition.
Do you really want Cole to win?
“No,” I say to myself. “He will not win. You are going to drive to Clayton, you will be fine, and you will learn how to make candy canes. Done and done.”
“I’m going to die. I’m going to die,” I chant, my hands clutching the steering wheel in a death grip.
I’ve turned off my music.
My eyes are as wide as can be.
And despite attempting to have X-ray vision, I can’t seem to see through this snow that has picked up since I left Aunt Cindy’s house.
“Where are the lines in the road?” I shout as my emotions get the best of me and my eyes start to well up with tears.
No, don’t cry, that’s not going to help you see better.
I swipe at my eyes and slow the car down to five miles per hour, turning on my hazard lights and praying that I don’t fall down a ditch.
Maybe…maybe if I pull off to the side for a second and let this heavy snow pass, everything will be okay.
I swipe at my eyes again and very carefully find the shoulder of the road and pull off to the side.
“See, we’ll just wait—” The car bumps, and then jolts downward.
I scream bloody murder, terrified that I’ve fallen into a ditch.
“This is my death,” I scream, waiting for the car to keep falling, but when it doesn’t, I open my eyes and glance out the window. To the right of me, I see a guardrail. Thank God for that, because at least I know I won’t be falling into any sort of mountain death trap. I look up ahead and see a sign that saysLookout Point. Oh, there must be a bigger parking spot there.
