*This is a holiday romance short story I did for my Creative Writing class recently. Opinions por favor?
You Say Christmas, I say Xmas
Breathtaking, laced, white snowflakes, merry, old, fake Santa Clauses, and melodious beats of joyful holiday tunes should have equaled a wonderful holiday extravaganza for any of the average Joe Schmoes that populated this little planet I liked to call Earth. Obviously, I was not the average Joe Schmo—at least I did not think I was. As zigzagged my way past the millions of cheerfully irritating New Yorkers on Time Square, the main thought popping in and out of my head was that I would never truly have what I wanted for Xmas. Yes, I did know the proper name was Christmas, but Xmas just sounded cooler to me. Anyway, the holiday did not even matter at this point. I had screwed everything up—as usual. Every time an innocent pedestrian wearing a typical, joyful expression bumped into me, I could not stop myself from shouting a multitude of odd profanities a teenage life subjects one to.
While yelling at an old man wearing a ridiculous Santa Clause hat that lighted up with an assortment of about fifty colors, I saw the murderer of my Christmas spirit shoot a smirk in my direction and open his idiotic mouth to say something I was sure would be just as idiotic as him. Yes, I guess I was being just a tad bit harsh on the guy. “Ray! Dude you need to seriously stop yelling at random people. I know this guy who knows this guy who knows this other guy who teaches Anger Management 101 at the local YMCA. I could totally hook you up!” Jared wittily commented. I glared at him for about five seconds, gave a mean look to the old man cowering before me, and ran out onto 43rd street. After nearly getting mauled by about five hideous, yellow taxis, I was forced back towards my archrival. Jovially, he thumped me on the back, put his arm over my shoulder, and led me through the New York crowd as if he was my best friend. He managed to squeeze us onto a fairly crowded metal bench near Time Tower. Did he have to be good at everything? Obviously, I would never be able to compete with him.
“Hey. What’s up?” I forced myself to ask him.
“Nothing much. Nothing much. Cecelia just wanted me to ask you if you were coming over for Christmas dinner at her house. She’s been calling you all day… I figured I would find the living zombie near Time Square. After all, we all know you love shiny objects. Haha. Just joking. Calm down,” he said in a repulsively friendly manner.
“Haha. Yes, very funny… Do me a favor and tell Cecelia I have other plans for tonight.”
“Like?”
“Um…I am going skating with my best friends at Rockefeller Center. Tell her I am sooooooo sorry and that I hope you two have a great first Christmas as a couple. She will definitely get her present tomorrow.”
“Sure, sure. Dude I just came into the picture so I really should not be saying anything, but personally, I would not be someone that breaks an eight-year tradition. You have been her best friend forever. You hooked us up. You are very important to her—more important to her than I am. That is a lot of credit considering I am her boyfriend. ” With that, he shook his head, leapt off the bench, and joined the bustling crowd. As I watched his retreating figure, his muscular build and subtle designer clothing forced my head down. My holey converses were definitely not helping my moment of low self-esteem.
Cecelia had been my best friend since before I knew what in the world a best friend was. Everyone thought I was going to ask her out one day. Everyone thought I was in love with her or something. Accordingly, just to prove everyone wrong, I hooked her up with this new kid I started hanging out with. Do not get me wrong—Jared was a pretty cool kid. He had a great personality, was an overall nice guy, and looked like what I thought most girls wanted.
Well, once I figured out what I had done, it was too late. Typically, I realized how much I liked Cecelia after I had lost her to Prince Jared. For the past month, I had been obsessed with finding someway to break the pair up—the pair I had created. Failing to do so, I had grown a bit cynical…and had recruited the nickname “Scrooge”. Technically, I had discovered one flaw in Jared. He was too perfect. There had to be a law against that somewhere in this universe. Felony!
What sucked the most was that I usually had a great time around Christmas. Cecelia was big on holidays and always had some crazy, awesome affair set up for us at her house. Yet, Jared would be there this Christmas and I knew that it just would not be the same. It would be better if I just kept myself away from the both of them. After all, I was a monster-of-a-friend that wanted to break a happy home. As I stared up at the flashing lights on Time Tower and the pitch-black New York sky, I got off the cold bench and warmed my hands. The snow was starting to collect now so I brushed a few flakes off my dirty-blond hair.
Eventually, I noticed the convulsions in my leg were resulting from the cell phone I had stuffed in my old jeans. Preoccupied, I did not notice the number and foolishly threw my phone when I heard Cecelia’s frantic voice on the other end. My poor phone did not survive the infinite feet of the New York crowd and got crushed on the spot, kicked onto 43rd street, and run over by a multitude of indistinguishable vehicles. Suddenly, I found myself flat on the bench I had just gotten off of. A tearful, tiny, pixie-like Cecelia had just tackled me.
“ARGHHH!” I cried.
Not even noticing my pain, she basically stood on top of me and started shouting, “What kind of friend are you? How could you ditch me on our Christmas? Ice-skating over me? What’s all this business about best friends? You have no other friends! You’ve got to be kidding me! I never even got to get you a Christmas present because you never come near enough for me to ask you! You refuse to come within a three feet radius of me anymore! What do you want from my life!?!” Then, she simply shut up and shoved her face into the crevice of my neck. New Yorkers usually do not care to notice what their fellow New Yorkers are up to, but Cecelia sure was good at attracting staggering amounts of attention. I could actually feel my face flushing in embarrassment.
Enticingly, her face was hovering less than an inch away from mine so I risked it. I kissed her right there on the spot. She did not even resist—actually I sort of had to hack her off. Lamely, I answered, “I guess all I want for Christmas is you?” With that, I got up and walked off with my remaining dignity. I could have sworn I saw Jared laughing in contentment a few paces ahead of me. Cecelia could wait. I had to find Jared—I guess I did have another best friend. Maybe there was a Santa Clause… Haha. Yes, I love cliché Joe Schmo stories. You just cannot beat them.
