AllFreeNovel
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Man, those kids are going to be so hopped up by the time I get there. They’ll probably have a sugar rush hangover tomorrow.
Which my mom will treat with a Christmas-themed hair-of-the-dog breakfast serving French toast.
There’s a collective groan in the line, and then voices are raised, and people get antsier.
Oh no.
I check my email, and yup. This flight has been canceled.
Son of a bitch.
No one is moving from the line, and the email says to please see a staff member to make arrangements. I have nothing better to do, so it looks like I’ll be spending Christmas snowed in an airline-budget hotel in a foreign city.
I hope the hotel has room service. And a bathrobe and tub. That doesn’t sound so bad, actually. I could watch TV until the power goes out and then switch to one of the shows I have downloaded on my tablet. I’ll rewatchSingle All the WayandElfwithout having to listen to kids in the background or explain to them why everything Jennifer Coolidge does is funny. Maybe I can run to a store and buy hot cocoa packets.
It may not be a Swiss chalet, like Clara’s family, but it’ll be cozy and quiet...and lonely.
Or, knowing my luck so far, they’ll be out of hotel rooms, and I’ll have to bunk at the airport.
I shift on my feet and switch to the Heartly app and scroll through some photos. I need the good vibes right now while I wait to determine my fate.
The line moves up; some people—probably locals—leave instead of waiting. I don’t have that luxury, so I lean on my cart and keep scrolling.
Until I hear a voice calling my name.
“Kara!”
I straighten up, looking around until I see a familiar flop of hair. “Peter?”
I’m halfway through the line, so there are layers of people between me and Peter, but I see him pop up over some heads as I stretch on my toes at the same time he does.
The crowd parts as he weaves his way to me in the goddamn middle of everyone.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when he arrives.
“Your flight is canceled, yes?”
“Yeah...”
“Come stay with my family. We’re not celebrating Christmas, but it’s better than being alone. And safer.”
“I...” I didn’t think that Peter would make this offer, so I’m too surprised to answer right away. I glance at the line in front of me. Do I want to crash Peter’s family Hanukkah, or do I want to wait in line on the off chance that I’ll be able to get a hotel room?
“Please,” he says, and that’s what does me in. Staying with strangers and one guy I barely know might be crazy, and as much as a quiet Christmas alone sounds amazing, it does sound lonely too.
“Okay,” I agree.
Peter nods and takes the cart from me. Navigating out of the center of the line is a mess, but Peter is insistent and polite, throwing out a “Fro’i Fiirtig!” to everyone as they let us pass.
Soon, we’re outside, making our way through the parking lot to Peter’s car. Once again, we reload all of my stuff back into the trunk, and Peter slams the hatch.
When the car turns on, that same damn podcast is back, the one that I’m pretty sure my sisters listen to and talk about all the time. It’s so smart.
I love my family, but I’ve always been the black sheep. First, there were spelling bees and science projects and hackathons while I was excelling in art classes and preferred watchingQueer Eye for the Straight Guyinstead of playing deep strategy games likeGaia ProjectorPower Grid.
My family called me a sore loser.
And maybe I was at the games. But podcasts and news articles led to discussions that led to me being quiet in the corner, not something I am naturally inclined to be. As I got older, my version of acting out was making friends and being outgoing enough that even when my family isolated me, I always had somewhere else to go.
