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Nolan: Of course I’ll be there. It’s part of the Next Step.
Me: If you’re sure…
Nolan: I’m going to be there, Katie. You’ve been teasing me about the drama at your house. I definitely need an update in person. Texts aren’t the same. And you hate phone calls.
Me: Not true! You’re always too busy, and you want to call at like 1 a.m. I work on a dairy farm. That’s nearly time to get up.
Nolan: Fine, country girl. We can work out a phone schedule in person, too. Texting takes too long.
Me: Says the old man.
Nolan: I’ll show you old the next time I see you…
Me (typed but deleted): I hope you mean in bed.
Me (actual reply instead): If you can catch me…
Nolan was late. He said he might be, but as I stood near the giant Christmas tree in the center of the Starry Hills Christmas Market, I paced and fidgeted and did my best not to constantly check my phone.
Texting with Nolan since Thanksgiving had been fun. And I had been bummed that the only time he seemed to be able to talk on the phone was when I was fast asleep. I knew this was all fake, and yet I rather enjoyed talking with Nolan. I didn’t feel the need to constantly be entertaining or outrageous or plaster a smile on my face like I did for my job.
I could just be…me. And that was rather addicting.
And dangerous. Don’t fall for him for real, Katie. You have just under five months to go and then you’re supposed to dump him.
But until then, he was still mine.
As I tried to pack away my excitement so Nolan wouldn’t think I was clingy or needy or something, I heard some familiar female voices from the other side of the tree. Voices that had haunted my dreams as a kid.
“I saw her in the parking lot earlier. I still can’t believe Nolan would want her, of all people.”
It was Kristina Smith, one of the three Mean Girl bullies from my school days.
I’d often dreamed of being able to put them in their places as an adult. And yet, I couldn’t seem to move from where I stood and continued to eavesdrop.
Another girl, Lydia Johnson, said, “I think Wendy Webster was telling the truth—he just needed a fat girlfriend to help promote his latest deal. Because why would he pick chubby Katie Evans over a goddess like Wendy Webster? No one would, that’s for sure.”
I clenched the fingers of one hand into a fist. And yet, I still couldn’t make my mouth work or feet move. The third woman who’d terrorized me as a child, Jordan Miller, said, “I’m sure she smells of cow shit and Nolan has to put some kind of scent under his nose just to be around her.”
The women laughed, and Kristina spoke again. “I hope he pays her well enough. It’s not like she’ll ever amount to anything and will probably die in Starry Hills. Gah, I’m so glad I married well and moved away. Even this market seems like a shit hole compared to the ones I visited in Germany last year.”
Jordan said, “But your mom is sick, and our moms are close, so we had to come. It might be her last Christmas.”
“Which is why I lowered myself to coming back here. Maybe we can find Katie at the market and remind her of how we were such good friends back in the day. Give her some of the same teasing. That would make this visit almost bearable.”
Lydia spoke up. “I even have this mulled wine I can spill on her.”
Kristina said, “And I have this awful crepe that I don’t even know why I bought. I could bump into her and rub it down her front.”
Jordan snorted. “Maybe I should hit up a food stall too so I can add to the disaster masterpiece. Wasn’t there some kind of melted cheese thing they had? And make sure to snap a picture of Katie afterward so we can share it with Wendy. Could you imagine if she saw it and replied, or even shared it?”
A low, male voice filled my ear. “Do you want me to help put them in their place?”
I glanced at Nolan. Had he heard everything?
My cheeks burned, but just his touch on my arm helped calm me down a little. I whispered back, “I guess so.”
He put out a hand. “Then come with me.”
