Zeke

The festival wasn't for another couple of hours, but Zeke couldn't stay in the hotel. He would go crazy if he sat alone in his room for any longer. In his room, he was in dangerous proximity to a freshly stocked mini bar, and he worried he would reenact 'The Shining' if he didn't get out of there.

As he walked the streets, he blew on his hands. The sun was nearly gone from the sky, far too early for his liking, and the air was bitter cold. If he had to go to this festival—whether he liked to or not—he would need gloves.

Zeke picked up the pace, looking for a shop. Fortunately, there was one right on the corner. One benefit of this town being so damn small...

The shop was set on the corner of a rustic brick building that looked like it could've been as old as the town. The shop did, too, though it was very well kept. Inside, it was all dark wood and shiny brass, with carefully arranged displays and orderly shelves. And on the window, in gold swirling letters painted directly on the glass, was the shop's name: JENSEN & SON'S, FINE MEN'S WEAR.

Perfect.

Zeke stepped in, greeted by the clear ring of a real brass bell.

"Welcome, sir," said a gentleman in a thick English accent. He was standing over by a set of mirrors, in the midst of measuring a suit on a gawky kid barely in his teens. "I'm nearly done here, so please feel free to browse. I'll help you in a moment."

"Just tell me where your gloves are," Zeke said flatly, "and I can help myself."

"Suit yourself," the man said with a grin. "They're in the corner, by the window."

"Thanks," Zeke said and headed that way.

It was right where the shopkeeper said it'd be, but Zeke couldn't help but frown. It was an entire display of mittens, scarves, and hats... but they were only in bright red and patterned with a flurry of snowflakes and trees.

The exact opposite of what Zeke was looking for. Where were the simple scarves, the plain leather gloves?

He looked around, but everywhere he looked was more Christmas—Christmas sweaters, Christmas ties, hell, even Christmas boxers. Zeke couldn't help but pick up a pair with a lewd joke about jingle bells. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. Was there anything in this town that wasn't Christmasfied?

The shop's bell gave another ring.

Zeke looked over and then did a double-take.

It was Alicia.

She stomped off the snow off her boots and strode inside. She didn't notice him, just swept through the store, like a woman on a mission. Zeke abandoned the holiday display and followed after, just a few steps behind.

There were a few choice things he'd like to say to her...

"Hi Mr. Jensen," Alicia said, still oblivious to Zeke's presence. "When you get a moment, could you help me pick out a gift for dad?"

The shopkeeper smiled her way. "Of course, Alicia, darling. I'll help you once I finish up here. It'll be a bit yet, though."

"That's fine," Alicia replied in sing-song. "I'll just browse while I wait. Maybe I can rustle up an idea." She turned...

And froze when she spotted him.

Zeke gave a sarcastic smirk at her. "Nice to see you again."

"Uh-huh." Alicia narrowed her eyes, looking him up and down. Her gaze settled on his hand. "Doing some personal shopping?"

Zeke looked down and realized in horror that he was still holding the gag boxers. In a panic, he tossed them off back towards the Christmas display.

Alicia giggled. That irresistible giggle...

Zeke had to clear his throat to retain focus.

"I was looking for gloves," Zeke said. He felt heat crawl across his face.

Alicia quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think you put your hands in those."

"No, it was... I-I was," Zeke sputtered. "Never mind. I want to talk to you."

Alicia pushed past him, heading down a nearby aisle. "No."

He was stunned for a moment before he regained his senses and followed after her. "You can't just say no!"

"Sure, I can," Alicia said, flashing him a dark look. "I have no interest in whatever you have to say."

Zeke felt heat in his face, now crawling down his neck. How was she both so entrancing and so infuriating? "Is that so? Well—"

"Miss Whittaker!"

They both turned. They had reached the end of the aisle, and it opened onto a seating area. In one of the chairs was a heavyset man with a graying beard. He waved them over.

"Professor Harrington!" Alicia said, straightening up. Her tone shifted, becoming prim and proper. "What are you doing here?"

"It may come as a shock, but professors do have personal lives. We go to restaurants, we go for walks, we buy our sons their first suits," Professor Harrington said with a chuckle, pointing to the young kid still being fitted in the mirror. "It's a family tradition. It will be his first year coming to the ball, so..."

Alicia nodded knowingly, but Zeke had no idea what they were talking about. He knew about the festival, but what was this about a ball? His parents weren't expecting him to come to some ball, were they?

Were they?

The Professor and Alicia were still chatting. "What are you still doing in town? I thought you would've headed home for the holidays by now."

"Not this year," Alicia said, smiling. "I'm spending the holidays with friends."

"That sounds like fun! If you're feeling festive, then Winter Grove is a good place to be," Professor Harrington said with another hearty chuckle. His eyes slid to Zeke standing over her shoulder as though he just realized he was there. He grinned at him. "Oh, is this your boyfriend, Miss Whittaker? Introduce me!"

Zeke pressed his lips together to smother his laugh—

"H-Him?" Alicia gave a loud scoff. "No, no even close."

He frowned. Ouch.

"He's actually Celeste's brother."

"Oh, Miss Brighton!" Professor Harrington said, his eyes brightening as he adjusted his wire glasses. He turned to Zeke, downright beaming now. "You must be a proud brother. Miss Brighton is a true asset to this school, a real bright star... and a favorite among my colleagues."

"Yep," Zeke said, forcing a smile. "So proud."

Alicia shot him a cold look.

Professor cleared his throat and smiled. "But small talk isn't why I called out to you, Miss Whittaker. You're aware that I'm the mentor for the Exchange Program, correct?"

Zeke's ears perked. Exchange?

Alicia's expression turned solemn for a second, but she quickly put on a brave smile. "I was aware, yes. Unfortunately, I got put on the waitlist..."

"That's the thing!" Professor Harrington, his smile widening. "I was going to email you tonight, but I figured I should just tell you while I've got the chance! After all, you'll need all the time to pack you can get!"

Alicia blinked. "Excuse me?"

"One of our students dropped out," Professor Harrington said. "And your name was at the top of the waitlist. So, the spot is yours, if you want it."

"O-Of course, I still want it!" Alicia cried. "Of course!"

"Then great! You're off to London! Oh, you'll have such fun in London, it's a lovely city. I'll send that email over this evening, as planned. Now don't dawdle, you've got lots to do—bags to pack, forms to fill out..." He laughed. "How's that for a Merry Christmas?"

For once, Alicia was at a loss for words. "T-Thank you—"

"Dad!" the kid by the mirror called. "How many buttons is this thing supposed to have? This looks like too many."

The Professor glanced over with a chuckle. "Well, what does Mr. Jensen say? He would know."

Mr. Jensen looked back, his mouth a thin line of exasperation.

The Professor chuckled again. He was a real jolly guy. "Well, seems I'm needed. Nice to see you, Miss Whittaker. I'm glad I got to deliver that news in person. Merry Christmas, you two!"

"Merry Christmas," Alicia said. She waited until the Professor was out of earshot before she let out a quiet squeal and did a little dance.

"London, huh?" Zeke asked. "That sounds exciting."

At the sound of his voice, she turned and glared at him as though she was annoyed that he still existed. "It is."

"Wait, when is the exchange? Aren't you supposed to graduate after the next semester?" The thought brought Celeste's 'Master' plan back to mind, and he couldn't help but frown. Right about now, he wished he'd stayed within reach of the mini-bar...

"The exchange is next semester," Alicia said, but something about that made her deflate.

"Wow. That's some short notice. Guess this Christmas is your final goodbye to Winter Grove," Zeke said with a scoff. Goodbye and good riddance. "I'm impressed, actually. Good on you for spreading your wings and getting out of this Podunk town."

Alicia groaned and shot him another glare. "Not this again."

"What?" Zeke said, confused. "I was paying you a compliment!"

"Oh sure, by insulting my—and your sister's—home," Alicia said as she squared her shoulders.

"But it's not your home," Zeke said. "Not for much longer, at least."

Alicia flinched as though that had stung.

"If I was you," Zeke said. "I'd stay in London. London's a great city, lots of opportunity to make something of yourself... unlike Winter Grove."

Squaring her shoulders, Alicia stared him down. "Why do you hate Winter Grove so much?"

"I would've thought that was obvious," Zeke said with a snort. "It's not good enough for someone like Celeste, someone like..." He looked over at her but stopped himself.

Alicia bristled. "If you think your sister's so brilliant, why don't you trust her opinion?" Her words came out in a great rush. "Do you think Celeste chose Winter Grove on a whim? Do you think your super-planner perfectionist sister just forgot to do her research? Celeste chose this place for a reason!"

"So, what if she did?" Zeke challenged. He was starting to get annoyed again. "I think she can do better!"

"That's the thing, though, isn't it? Maybe for you Winter Grove isn't fancy enough, or our school isn't famous enough. It doesn't matter what you think, it's not your choice! It's Celeste's choice. Have you ever stopped to think about what Celeste wants... or why she wants it?"

Why?

Why did Celeste choose Winter Grove?

Did it matter?

What mattered was that it was all wrong for her...

He opened his mouth to argue, but the sharp ring of Alicia's phone cut him off. She didn't hesitate to answer.

"Hello?" she said but then frowned as she listened to the person on the other end. "You're hurt? How'd that happen?"

Zeke straightened. "Who hurt themselves? Celeste?"

Alicia shook her head as she turned away to continue her conversation. "Well, I'm close to the bar, so I'll come by. Sit tight." She hung up without a goodbye and went to step around him.

He stepped in front of her. "Wait a second. I'm not done talking to you."

"Well, too bad, because I'm done listening," Alicia said, trying to push past him. "Get out of the way. I need to go."

Zeke didn't let her go. "But if someone's hurt, I can help."

Alicia stopped and looked at him. For a second, something flashed across Alicia's face that didn't look like annoyance... But it quickly passed. "No, I don't need—or want—your help."

She gave him one last sharp look and stormed out of the store.

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