Page 26 of Hook-up to Holidate


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“Dashing through the snow,” a woman’s voice sings out.

“In a one-horse open sleigh,” a man joins.

“O’er the hills we go.” Each line is like a solo, and I can’t help but grin.

“Laughing all the way.”

A child jumps out from behind their parents. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”

I take Vega by the hand and lead her into the store as the singers continue down the street, coming up to all who pass.

“That was… prematurely festive,” I say with a small laugh. Vega and I continue down the isles until we find the one dedicated to white hair. Every section is broken down by hair color, then texture, then product. “What was that?” I ask as I grab the purple bottle. Though my hair is naturally white, if I don’t use a special shampoo, it often looks brassy. This shampoo helps the lavender tint to last longer.

V tilts her head at me. “The Christmas Carolers?”

“Is there some kind of event going on?”

She shrugs, not answering as we approach the checkout counter. An employee rings me up in polite silence, and we cross the threshold to exit the store.

Vega looks at me. “This is your hometown, you tell me. Is there usually some kind of event during this time?”

I roll my eyes. “I haven’t lived here in forever. I just think it’s weird that they’d celebrate so early.”

Vega laughs as we continue down the street towards a sandwich shop. “People always celebrate Christmas early. I think it’s hilarious. It’s humanity’s thing, I don’t know. Did you not celebrate Christmas growing up?”

“We do. My dad loves Christmas, but my mom was always more into Winter Solstice. I think she just likes the aesthetics of Christmas, since none of us are religious.”

“That’s funny. My mom celebrated a Barac holiday called Jul—”

“God rest ye, merry Gentlemen,” a caroler sings, interrupting Vega.

What is going on?

“Didn’t we just fucking see carolers?” I whisper through gritted teeth.

People walk by and stop to watch. There’s a mother orc carrying her toddler son, and he watches in awe of the vocalists.

“I think these are the same people too,” Vega whispers back. She takes me by the hand, snaking me out of the small crowd that’s forming, and we head back down the street.

“God rest ye, merry mouths,” I say once everyone is out of earshot.

Vega lets out a grunt of a laugh, and my cheeks turn red.

The carolers are continuing this direction, and I’m getting rather annoyed by them. “Why don’t we go somewhere else instead of the sandwich shop?”

“That’s fine with me,” Vega says. “Anything you had in mind?”

“There’s a ramen and boba place two streets over,” I suggest and she squeezes my hand.

“Lead the way.”

Crossing Main Street towards Token Bubbles, there are workers putting up holiday decorations at every corner. Lots of specialized screens that flash different designs for a multitude of holidays.

“You were telling me about Jul? It sounds like Yule,” I say, passing a bookstore and a crystal shop.

“It’s similar in many ways. Orcs would eat these animals… similar to boars, and we’d light candles and tell stories around a fire. When I was young, and my mother was still around, we did an earthly version of it with hot chocolate. I can recall sitting in her lap, snow on the ground, and we were bundled up around the fire pit,” Vega shares, and my heart sinks. Although my family is awful at times, they’re alive. They are a phone call away.

I pull her hand up to my face and kiss it gently. We continue walking until we’re at the doors of Token and Bubbles and step inside.

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