Page 213 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
Taran glances at me. “She’s right. I’m sorry, Storee.”
“I’m sorry too,” I say.
With a shaky smile, she asks, “Do you really like him?”
I nod. “I do. I like him so much, and I know he feels the same way.”
I more than like him. I love him.
I think I’ve loved him for a long time and have never noticed it.
But yes, this consuming, heart-wrenching, exhilarating feeling that’s pulsing through me? It’s love.
I love him.
“Well, if that’s the case, we need to fix things,” Taran says.
“I’m glad you think that because I have an idea,” I say, “but I’ll need some help.”
“Tell us what you need,” Taran says. “We’re here for you.”
Cole
“Cole,” Max calls out. “You still back here?”
“Yeah,” I say as I lie flat on the concrete floor, staring up at the barn ceiling. I hear Max approach but don’t bother moving.
“Uh, what are you doing?” he asks.
“Breathing,” I answer.
“Well, that’s a good thing.” He comes into view and pulls on the back of his neck. “I hate to do this to you, but my mom said she’s not going to allow you to stay in the barn, especially on Christmas Eve.”
“Does she know that I have no other choice?”
“You do. You’ll stay the night at my parents’ place, like every year. Come on, man.” He holds out his hand to help me up, but I don’t take it. Instead, I keep looking up at the ceiling as I feel a sting of tears in my eyes.
“I don’t want to celebrate Christmas, Atlas. I can’t…I can’t do it.”
“I know,” he says solemnly. “And I get it. I told my mom, and she actually set up the guest room for you, so you don’t have to worry about the family bothering you.”
“I don’t want to bring down your Christmas mood.”
“You won’t, I promise. Come on. If you don’t come with me, then my dad will have to come get you, and I know he won’t take kindly to that when he’s supposed to be watchingA Christmas Storyright now.”
He’s right. Mr. Maxheimer never wants to miss his Christmas Eveviewing ofA Christmas Story. So I take Max’s hand in mine, and he helps me to my feet. I brush off my ass, and let Max lead me outside to his truck.
“We’re driving to your parents’ house?” I ask, confused since their house is on the farm.
“I had my truck here because I had to pick some things up from town, so I figured we would just drive over. Plus, I didn’t know if I would have to strap you to the bed of my truck to transport you. My mom said to ‘bring him over by any means necessary.’”
A small smile tugs on my lips. “Would have loved to see you try.”
“Given your state, I would have won.”
“Probably right.”
We both get in and buckle up. The truck roars to life and we pull away from the barn.
