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I felt my anger rising. “It’s not. We can’t let this happen. We need to figure out who’s doing this. Talk some sense into them. Can you try to find out more info from your dad?”

“I can try. But I don’t know if he knows anything.”

“You’ll let me know if you learn something, though?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thanks.”

I couldn’t believe that the thing I’d declared as my inspiration, the thing I loved most about Christmas, was about to be taken away. And in the year I needed everything to go perfectly.

Chapter 9

“So?” Mom said when I came into the kitchen. My hot chocolate was finished, and I dropped the empty cup into the trash. It took me way too long to figure out what she was asking about. The hot chocolate guy. She was asking about him. I was still reeling from what Ryan had just told me.

“His name is Buddy,” I said.

“Isn’t that cute?” Mom must’ve already known that.

“Like the elf?” Momma asked.

“He’s leaning into Christmas,” Mom said. “He’d fit right in.” She gestured around our house. The outside wasn’t the only thing we decorated. The inside was bursting with holly-dotted garlands and flocked Christmas trees and homemade ornaments.

“Mom already has me married off,” I deadpanned.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Mom argued. “There are many relationships that happen before marriage. Friendship is one of those.”

“Oh, now you just want me to be friends with Buddy, the hot chocolate guy?”

“Are we really going to call him Buddy?” Marcus asked, closing his notebook and tucking it into his backpack. “What’s his real name?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Where does he go to school?” Momma asked. “Is he still in high school?”

I shrugged.

“Does he live around here?” Mom asked.

“I have no idea.”

“What did you learn about him?” she asked. “You were out there forever.”

That statement made me go instantly quiet, my mind trying to think of something, anything to say. “He was busy. There was a line.” That was the truth. Would they believe I was in line that whole time?

Mom tilted her head. Obviously not.

“Has the music next door gotten even louder?” I asked, hoping a topic they were passionate about would erase their suspicion, or at least make them move on faster.

“Yes!” Mom said. “It has. I was just saying that yesterday. And it’s mostly pop Christmas music, which is fine, but couldn’t they throw in some classic carols as well?”

“Agreed,” Momma said.

“I swear they’re only doing it in retaliation for our floodlight that rarely goes on.”

“Speaking of noise…” I opened my mouth to tell them about what Ryan had said about a potential lawsuit. Two things stopped me, though. One, I’d have to explain how I knew that. Who else could’ve told me? Buddy, the hot chocolate guy? Not likely.

Two, I was beyond upset about it. The news was a dark spot on Christmas, and I didn’t want my family to have to feel that too. Not when we were surrounded by all the things that made us happy. Not before I knew more.