My Secret Santa

Christmas is not my favorite. Not since I lost my dad last year. The lights, the music, the happy people. Everything reminds me of him. And if he were around still, maybe he could get Chad to leave me alone.

On top of all that, Mr. Walker had to give us this assignment to be a Secret Santa for someone, and you'll never guess who I got. Okay, you probably can, but can you blame me for not wanting to do the assignment?

Except . . . Chad doesn't seem to be a bad guy when his friends aren't around. He might even be someone I could like. But can I handle letting someone in right now, especially when his ex-girlfriend and half the cheerleading squad are doing everything in their power to keep us apart?

 Most people look forward to the first day of December, but not me. Christmas decorations spring up everywhere, carols are played on all the stations, and there are parties every weekend. Work parties, school parties, church parties.

But me? I hated it all. While everyone else was decking the halls, I was scrubbing floors of my mom’s diner. And of course, all that snow, tinsel, and Christmas cheer meant more scrubbing for me.

Not that I didn’t like working at the diner. I met all kinds of interesting people. The regulars who’d known me since I was in diapers—embarrassing—and the new
people who had fascinating stories to tell.

But in December, no one stopped to talk, or ask how my day was, or even apologize for spilling their hot chocolate. They ate and left so they could do more shopping. Which is why I was stuck cleaning up a gooey mess of hot chocolate and whipping cream on the floor instead of attending the school dance—which I
probably wouldn’t have gone to anyway. But that wasn’t the point.

“Claire. Hey. Claire. You’re needed on table seven.” Mom’s voice made me jump and almost spill the water.

“Sorry, Mom.” I set the mop in the bucket and washed my hands quickly before grabbing my notebook and pencil. Not that I needed them. I’d been able to memorize orders for years now, but it seemed to stress the customers out when I didn’t
write anything down.

Chatter surrounded me as I walked over to the table where four rather loud and obnoxious guys from my high school sat laughing at some poor girl a table over. Typical. I fixed them with my best mom glare.

“You needed something?” I raised an eyebrow at one of the boys who were making chipmunk noises. Chad Damon. My nemesis. Or, he would be if he knew how much I despised him.

“Yes. We haven’t gotten our food yet. Could you tell your mom to hurry it up?” Chad elbowed his friend Carter and busted up laughing.

I waited for them to finish. “And did you actually order something this time, or did you just expect her to know what you want?”

Snickers erupted from the other guys, but they were immediately silenced by his glare. He turned back to me. “I order the same thing every time I come in. You’d think she’d know what it is by now.”

He really did too. Chocolate shake, burger without onions or ketchup—boring—and cheese fries. But he didn’t have to know I knew that.

I held my paper and pencil up. “Now. What would you like? I’ll make sure my mom puts your order in front of every other person in this diner.”

Yeah, right.

“That’s more like it.” He ordered his food, making sure I had the no onions part.

“Got it. And the rest of your posse?” I took the rest of their orders, then turned and headed back to the kitchen.

Mom looked up from the grill and smiled. “Thanks for grabbing that. We’re swamped back here.”

I handed her the order and leaned against the wall. “Really, Mom? Them? Why didn’t you just have me take the Taylor’s table? At least they don’t sneer at me.”

“Chad doesn’t sneer. Besides, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you hang out with anyone and I figured you could use that as your ice breaker.”

“Seriously? I took their order. I basically work for them. That’s not exactly the best ice breaker.”

Mom chuckled. “Your prince isn’t going to show up in a horse-drawn carriage and whisk you away, you know. Give them a chance. Now go. I think the Taylors actually do need you this time.”

Which meant I could avoid taking the other table their food. I took the tray from Mom and pasted on a smile. I really did like the Taylors. They were a sweet older couple who lived a few doors down from us and they treated our family like we were their own.

Mrs. Taylor brightened when she saw me coming. “Claire, dear. I haven’t seen you in ages. I wondered if you’d left for college or something.”

“No. Mrs. Taylor. I’m only a junior.” I set the food down. “How are you? Did your son get moved in already?”

“Oh, yes. It’s such a joy to have his family here. He decorated our whole house today. You can see it when you go home tonight.”

I groaned inwardly. That was one thing I still had to do tonight. Mom wanted our diner to be all festive by the time we opened in the morning, and I hadn’t even gotten the boxes out of storage yet.

I nodded. “I’ll have to come and see them.”

“Yo, Diner Girl.” Chad’s voice boomed over the rest of the chaos. And I couldn’t just ignore it because every head had turned toward me.

“If you’ll excuse me.” I did my best to smile as I walked away. Thankfully,
everyone else went back to their meals as I went past them.

Chad gestured toward the Taylors’ table. “I thought you said we’d be the next order.”

I clenched my fist hidden in the pocket of my apron. “It’s called sarcasm. All these other people ordered first. You need to take your turn.”

“Yes, but we actually have some place to be. They’re just eating and heading home.”

“Hey, knock it off and leave her alone, man.” Carter slugged his shoulder. “Obviously she can’t handle more than one thing at a time. And since she already has to scrub the floor, that one thing is taken.”

I walked away before I punched someone. They took it to mean that Carter had “won,” but I didn’t care. I needed to get away.

Mom shot me a sympathetic smile when I walked into the kitchen. “You really need to stop letting them get under your skin.”

“Kinda hard when they do everything they can to annoy me.” I took the celery stick from Mom and nibbled at it. “Don’t make me go back out there. Please.”

“You can go finish mopping and then head home. There’s a dance tonight, right?” Mom filled a plate with potatoes, veggies, and a pork chop.

I shrugged, “Yeah, but I figured I’d stick around here. I don’t want you to have to decorate by yourself.”

Mom laughed and turned to one of the cooks. “Hear that, Erik? She wants to decorate.”

“Man, I didn’t realize she hated dances that much.” Erik winked at me and went back to work.

“You guys are a riot.” I sighed and hung my apron on the hook by the door, then put on a jacket to go out to the storage shed in the back.

Snow blew in my face the moment I opened the door. Maybe decorating wasn’t such a great idea. But if I didn’t go out there, I’d have to deal with Chad because he was calling for me again. Well, not me. Diner Girl. His clever name he’d come up with months before.

The shed was only about forty feet from the diner, but it might as well have been miles away. Snow crunched under my feet as I counted the steps. Something I’d done since I was young when I followed Dad back here.

It took a moment to get the door open because of the wind and snow, but the small storage room welcomed me. The times I’d played hide-and-seek while my parents
gathered what they needed. Where my friends and I hid when we ditched school. I was pretty sure Mom knew I was back here, but never said anything. She knew I needed to mourn in my own way.

The light flickered on, revealing the lines of shelves. Old pots and pans,
decorations for every holiday, and my dad’s things were back behind the
inventory for the diner. I ran my fingers along Dad’s box of items he’d
collected over the years.

“Hey, Dad. I miss you. I can’t believe it’s been a year since I saw you last.” I
touched my fingers to my lips, then touched the box again. “Chad is back again. If you were here, you would have kicked him out just on principle.”