Page 2 of Pining for You

“Hey, Seichi,” Diya says, her focus firmly returned to her procedure book.

Seichi only has eyes for Diya, so I’m not offended that it takes him a minute to notice me.

“Oh, hey, Bosley! Fancy meeting you here,” he says, and looks at his watch. “You bail on the bakery early?”

My work on the farm is in our on-premises bakery, where we turn our crops into dreamy treats.

“I struck a deal with Joany,” I say. “She agreed to release me if I could get all four hundred pecan pie squares prepped for the Bazaar. She obviously doubted my powers.”

“Good lord, Bosley, you really are an elf,” Diya says, looking up at me now with a sort of horrified reverence.

I shrug like it’s not a thing, while ensuring they both know it’s very much a thing. My bakery boss, Joany, is the most humorless of the Coopers, and pulling off that feat aged me at least three seasons.

“Ohhhh, I’d kill for one of those right now,” Seichi says, rubbing his stomach.

“Well, those are for the Bazaar, but may I suggest some strudel in the meantime?” I gesture to the refreshment stand by the baling station, where the display is packed with fresh pastries I just brought over. “Honed the recipe myself.”

“Don’t mind if I do!” he says, and I hand him one wrapped in wax paper.

“Good thing Joany gave you the out—this whole plan hinges on very meticulous timing,” Diya says with a square-in-the-eyes look that asks, Are you paying attention?

“The plan?” Seichi asks, deciding on which angle to attack his pastry.

“Yes,” I say. “The focus of my day, the pinnacle of my season, and perhaps the mountain peak of my young gifting career.”

“She’s getting Naomi a tree for Christmas,” Diya cuts in.

“Dude, I’m gonna need you to add a little flourish if you’re going to hijack the reveal.” I give her an aggrieved look. “Imagine you’re announcing that an endangered species of trees is experiencing a resurgence… Put a little David Attenborough on it, ya know?”

Diya rolls her eyes.

“Always directing the scene.”

“You’re getting your mom a Christmas tree for Christmas, from the Christmas tree farm where she works?” Seichi asks through a full mouth with the same squint he uses for working out chem questions at school. Flakes fly as he chews. He’s consumed basically half the strudel in one bite. Dudes.

“Well, Naomi’s been a little… distracted this year,” Diya says, jumping in again, and this time, I don’t mind. My friends know what’s up at home, and how hard things have been lately in my family. I’m not super excited to explain the situation myself. I’d prefer to focus on the positive things, like organizing our traditions, or writing romantic scripts for my favorite characters. Like, for example, Diya and Seichi, who star in perhaps the greatest will-they-won’t-they in Ripton history. It all started last year, back when they both tried to compost their lunch scraps at the same bin. Then they started hanging out, and Diya learned that Seichi’s dream is to expand his father’s gardening business into his own organic farm and boom—she was done for. Seichi, who follows Diya around like a puppy, couldn’t be more obvious that he thinks she hung the harvest moon, but they’re both too awkward to make a move.

So far, Diya has never admitted to her crush, but it’s on my big picture to-do list to get her to, right under convincing her that New York City is the center of the universe and our futures (another fact she refuses to acknowledge).

“Oh, cool! Good luck!” Seichi says, then turns to Diya. “So, did you see the latest? These predictions are getting wild. Like, snowflakes the size of dinner plates, and winds strong enough to slap the cocoa right out of your hands!”

He mimes this slapping and adds a mind-blown gesture, then grins and crumples the wax paper. He’s finished with his pastry and obviously proud of his hyperbole, but Diya has moved on to untangling some of the netting that she loathes so much. That girl will do anything to keep busy around Seichi. “Sounds like you and your dad are going to be busy on Thursday morning.”

I thought my 5:30 bakery shift was ungodly early, but Seichi takes the cake on that front. In the winter, his dad runs a side hustle using the gardening company’s pickup trucks as snowplows.

“For sure,” he says. “Already set an alarm for two a.m.! But actually, that’s kind of what I came to ask you about. I was thinking…”

He takes an awkward pause and looks up at me, so I step aside to give them a shred of privacy. I’m pretending to spruce up the pastry display when I get a text from Cash:

Leaving soon-ish! Get that wood, Bosley!

I shake my head at the screen. Cash, who doubles as Izaac’s beloved boyfriend, is picking my mother up this morning, since I took her ancient Toyota to work for my shift. When she gets here, I’ll need to be ready to take off. Izaac will collect me—tree in tow—so she doesn’t see me and spoil the surprise.

I don’t want to block Seichi’s shot, but Cash’s text reminds me of what Diya said—timing is everything today, and keeping to a schedule isn’t my strong suit. I know from experience that if I mess with the station organization, it’ll get Diya’s attention, so I reach to remove the lid from the cider urn, and—

“Bosley!” Diya shouts without even looking in my direction, and I suppress a mischievous grin. Like a charm. She has spidey senses for my chaos.

“Way too hot,” she says, with a no-no wave of the finger.