How My Neighbor Stole Christmas

What a shame Storee’s stocking was a shredded fail.

Surely, this can’t be the end of her holiday tale.

It’s not, because there’s something you did not see.

Something tricky, something sneaky, something not so jolly…

“What if,” I say as I shift on my air mattress and look at Max as he snuggles into his pillow on his air mattress, which is lined up beside mine. “What if we don’t make any improvements to the light display tomorrow?”

He pauses and stares at me.

The family is asleep after a fun night of games, cookies, and eggnog, the fire in the fireplace has now died down to embers, and the Christmas lights on the house are sparkling through the curtains.

“Why on earth would you not want to make…” He leans up on one elbow. “Is this because of Storee?”

I groan. “Dude, you should have seen her today. She was devastated.”

“Then maybe she should have performed better.” I quirk a brow at him, and he continues, “And I mean that with respect. But it’s not our fault that you’ve become a master with the sewing machine. Or that your card-making skills are unmatched, or that you’re able to wrap a present perfectly in under a minute. We can’t hide ourselves from the light to make someone else burn brighter.”

“Really, Max? You sound like an ass.”NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

“Because I want to win? Because you dragged me into this out of your own spite, and now that I’m invested, I’m just supposed to turn down the heat? Dude, I sat like a dog in shorts too small for me in front of the whole town. I didn’t just do that for my own enjoyment.”

“I know. I know.” I press my hand to my head, frustrated as I lie on my pillow. “I just, fuck, I hated seeing her like that, and her sister was all upset. I wanted to help her.”

Max is silent, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head. “What if…what if this is all a ploy, and she’s pretending to be upset so you will drop out or something so she can win?”

“Atlas,” I say in a stern voice. “That’s not what she’s doing.”

“I know you want to think that. I’m just, hell, man, I’m just watching out for you, okay?”

“I appreciate that, but Storee wouldn’t hurt me like that, betray me like that. I know her. I’ve felt the way she is around me. I can tell when someone’s using me and when someone’s actually in—well, when someone likes me.”

“Were you going to say in love?” he asks.

“I don’t know, maybe.” I drag my hands over my face. “Just trust me on this, okay? Storee is not using me. She’s just upset that she’s been struggling the last few competitions, and she’s under a lot of pressure from her aunt and sister.”

“Okay,” Max says skeptically. “But you know Cindy. I think she’d do whatever it takes to win. She’s been desperate for the title. She could be pulling the strings.”

“She’s not going to mess with me—or mess with someone’s heart.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then I say we proceed with lighting up the lawn tomorrow. We want to win this, right?”

“Sort of. The need to win isn’t as strong as it was. I think I’d rather see Storee win.”

“Nooooo,” Max groans. “Cole, please…for the love of God, do not give up now. We are eight points ahead. That’s hard to catch up to. Even if Storee wins first place with the light display, all we have to do is stay above the bottom two and we’re solid. This is a win for us. Just see this through. If anything…do it for me. We’ve been through a lot, and now that I’m invested, I want to win this for us.”

Hell, when he puts it like that…

He has done a lot for me, and I want nothing more than to show Max how much I appreciate him.

“You’re right,” I say. “You’re so right. Fuck, man. I’m sorry. Let’s…let’s try to win this thing.”

His smile lights up as he holds out his hand. “Yeah, let’s win it.”

I stare down at his hand and then back up at him. “Am I supposed to hold your hand?”

“You’re supposed to shake in celebration.”

“That seems weird,” I say.

He curls his hand into a fist. “Then fist bump?”

“Ehhh…”

He picks up his pillow and whacks me right in the face. “How about that?”

I blink a few times and then turn toward him. “You’re dead.”

He squeals as he rolls away and whisper-shouts, “Don’t wake my dad. He’ll kill us, and if you wake him, I’m telling him about your thong.”

I stand from my air mattress, and we face off with the coffee table between us. “I’ll tell him I borrowed it from you.”

“Wearing another man’s thong? Cole, where are your standards?”

I lunge at him, and he sidesteps, causing me to crash into the end table.

“What’s going on down there?” Mr. Maxheimer calls from upstairs.

Max whispers, “Now you’ve done it, you fuck.”

I sigh as we hear heavy footsteps come down the stairs. In a conciliatory tone, I say, “You were right, dear.”

Taran

I stare up at the ceiling, my mind racing, my heart pounding, the thought of betrayal passing through me.

How could she?

Is this why she’s been slacking? Getting third in the last few competitions? Because of him?

To say I was surprised when I saw her being pulled behind a tree in the gym was an understatement, but when I saw who it was, anger reached its tipping point.

It was supposed to be a farce. They were supposed to be faking it, but from what I saw, Storee was fully immersed—and happy—in his arms.

And I should have known because all the signs were there. The way she watched him up on that stage when he thrust his pelvis at the audience? She practically drooled.

When she went on that date with him, she wasn’t as reluctant as she should have been.

Not to mention, after the candy-cane making she was gone for a very long time. She claimed a pothole, but…was that the truth?

And then…oh my God! When I caught her coming back into the house, was she really coming back in from checking on the snow? Or was she coming back in after spending the night next door?

I sit up in bed, remembering the footprints in the snow leading from Aunt Cindy’s house to his.

And the bruise on her neck. That was…that was a hickey.

I pound my fist into the pillow. All those strolls into town, all that wasted time…she must have been spending it with him.

Of course that’s what she was doing. How could I have been so dumb? So naïve?

They’ve been seeing each other and…

I pause, my mind racing some more.

Hold on.

He’s…he’s in first place. Contest after contest, he’s been getting better and better, running away with the points and making it pretty damn hard for anyone to catch up to him. And how convenient that his biggest competition has slowly been taking the fall when she started out in first.

I reach for my notebook on the nightstand and flip through the notes I’ve been taking. It was right after the Fruitcake Festivus that things started to go downhill. The next competition was candy cane making, and that’s when she fell to third. He “helped” her in that competition. Why would he do that if he wasn’t trying to prove something? Trying to…trying to sabotage her!

He knew she’d lose points for getting help from another competitor, and she did. But she looked grateful. Happy that he was there to help her. From there, she never edged past third, and that’s when she started to disappear more. That’s when they were spending more time together.

I throw my legs over the side of the bed as I grip my forehead.

How could I have been so dumb?

How could I have let this happen?

He took advantage of her.

He must have known she crushed on him back when we were young and used that to his advantage. And he wasn’t even shy about the way he used her. He said their fake relationship was for the town, would help both of them in the competition, but somewhere along the way, he kept it fake, and she…she fell for him.

I stand from the bed now and go to my window, where I open the curtain and stare at his house, covered in those garish green lights.

How dare he!

How dare he mess with her!

How dare he mess with Aunt Cindy’s chance at the title!

I can’t allow that to happen.

Something needs to be done.

And I know exactly what to do.

So she strapped on her boots and her coat colored tan,

with one thing in mind: I will destroy this man.

Then she loaded up her pockets with a hammer and pliers,

and took to his house, ready to mess with his wires.

She stalked through the snow, empty bags in her fist.

“He’ll regret ever messing with her,” she hissed.

Then she propped up a ladder, alone and in the dark.

In the distance, a rowdy dog let out an ear-splitting bark.

She froze and waited, and when the coast was clear,

she ascended the house to remove all the Christmas cheer.

She snaked and she snuck with a smirk quite unpleasant

around the whole roof and took every twinkle light present.

With a pop and a flop, the wires tumbled to the ground.

Payback was served and joy she quickly found.

Then she slunk to the porch. She took every bulb and every light.

She took every Christmas decoration purely out of spite.

She laughed. “Oh how stupid is he going to feel

when he sees what I took, what I was able to steal.”

She took every decoration, and she took it in a flash,

and then walked up to the garage and threw it in the trash.

“In the morning when they wake, I know just what they’ll do.

The bro-hards on Whistler Lane will both cry boo-hoo.”

She dusted off her hands and headed back into the house,

while every Kringle in Kringletown slept, even the street mouse.