Page 103 of Falling Like Snow

I hate to admit it, but even though I don’t have feelings for Micah—and I learned he’s a major tool—I can’t help wondering if he actually even liked me, or if he just thought I was an easy target for a hookup. I truly thought we had moments where we clicked. I honestly thought he was interested in me. And now I guess part of me wonders if I’m just not likable in that way.

Maybe I’ll always just be the Funny Friend or the Mayor’s Desperate Daughter.

The thought hurts more than it probably should.

So, that evening after dinner, as I’m lying on my stomach in Asher’s room, wearing my candy-cane-patterned leggings and red sweater dress, I’m not surprised when I catch Asher looking at me with pity from the other side of the game board.

“Please stop,” I say, taking the Operation tweezers from him.

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like I’m an abused puppy,” I say.

“Sorry. But I hate seeing you sad.”

“I know, but I’m not sad. Maybe a little angry still, but I’m fine. I didn’t even like him,” I say.

His face twists, silently saying Puh-lease.

“I’m serious,” I tell him.

“You must have liked him a little to have kissed him.”

I shrug. “I wanted to like him. I was trying to like him.”

Asher watches me as I aim for one of the Nerds candies we put in Cavity Sam’s slots in place of the plastic pieces it came with. When the tweezers tap the inside metal, I jump at the sudden buzz.

“Damn it,” I mutter, handing him the tweezers.

He sets them on the floor. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you want to like him?”

“I don’t know, Asher!” I exclaim, more annoyed than I should be. “Because he was nice? And cute? And seemed to like me? Because I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I guess part of me wants all that cutesy, lovey-dovey stuff that comes with it? You and Daphne are… whatever you are. You have to know what I mean at least a little.”

He turns his attention to the game. “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay. Then can we drop it now? I don’t want to talk about Micah or what happened. I just want to forget about Christmas. Just like we planned.”

He chews the inside of his cheek. “Sure, I’ll drop it. But”—he sits—“we can’t completely forget about Christmas.’ ”

“What do you mean?”

His eyes take on a playful glint. “We still have our gift exchange, which means we have to leave.”

“Um, and go where?”

He just stares at me.

“Another surprise?” I ask, actually surprised. “How many are there?”

“Sadly, this is the last one.”

I follow Asher, passing Ellis and her mom sitting at the kitchen island talking to my mom and Mrs. Yoshida.

“We’ll be back in a little bit,” Asher calls to them as he slips on his boots.