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I ran my hands over the fancy gowns, but the sea of green in front of me now looked drab and uninspiring despite their beads and jewels. The front door opened, and when I looked up toward the entrance, my gaze caught on a circular rack filled with different shades of red garments. A woman called out in the store, and then a little girl crawled out from under the rack with a sneaky smile, winking at me before she hurried away.

And that was when I saw it.

The chiffon dress was floor-length with a black embroidered, beaded lace top that blended ombre-style into a vibrant red toward the bottom. It looked like something out of an old movie, like something Betty would’ve worn in White Christmas. I gasped when I picked it up to get a closer look at the way the bodice laced up in the back.

It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen.

I moved over to the nearest mirror and held it up in front of me before taking a quick selfie and sending it to my mom.

This was what I pictured when I thought of the Mistletoe Masquerade at The Market. Mom would make me a black-and-red mask to go with it. Bianca would, undoubtedly, want to curl and pin my hair up, and Nona would move around me like a paparazzo, snapping a million pictures until we’d hear a knock on the front door. Leo, of course, would then make it his big responsibility to open the door, and then I’d stare at…at…

Sam.

Yes, Sam.

In a fancy suit and tie with his floppy but combed red hair and chocolate brown eyes smiling down at me like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He would put his suit jacket around my shoulders as we walked out to his truck.

Later, while we danced under the glow of the white twinkle lights dangling from the exposed beams in The Market, I’d stare at the lines of freckles on his face and imagine all the ways I’d like to trace them with my fingers, my lips, until I’d have to lay my head on his chest to hide my blushing cheeks.

He’d rest his chin on the top of my head.

And I’d breathe in his comforting scents of pine and Ivory soap and wonder why we waited so long to do this.

“Oh my gosh,” Jo said, appearing behind me as I blinked out of my trance still in front of the mirror. “That dress was one hundred percent made for you, Gianna.”

“Too bad it’s out of my budget,” I said, sighing.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and smiled.

Mom: Nona said red is definitely your color.

Mom: And that James will love it.

James.

Right.

The person I was actually “dating.”

The same person who had made his feelings known, who hadn’t held back or hesitated to show me how he felt.

If Sam liked me as more than his best friend, surely he would’ve told me by now.

You can’t go to the dance with a daydream, Gianna.

Guilt slithered through my stomach again until another notification popped up on my phone, but this one was about a deposit that was just made into my Apple Pay.

Wait. What?

Another text message buzzed in, and I swiped it open, smiling as tears filled my eyes.

Nona: Merry Christmas, cara.

Later that evening, back home in Mullings Creek where my dream dress hung in a garment bag in my closet, Jo and I bought roasted chestnuts before climbing the spiral steps up to the clock tower.

“Thank goodness you’re not allergic to these,” Jo said as she closed the door and zipped up her jacket so it covered her neck.