December 21, a day that's four days until Christmas. The first day of winter. Most people are usually getting ready for the most happiest day of the year.

Then there was you. In study hall, waiting for Christmas vacation to finally begin, with your best friend.

"The Feast of St. Thomas?"

"You've never heard of it!"

"No Sasha, I haven't. When it comes to any type of feast, I'm an innocent," you said sarcastically, folding you arms on the table.

"That's the thing though (y/n). It's not a feast," Sasha explained desperately.

You looked at her flabbergasted, not believing what you had just heard.

"Oh. My. Google. Sasha, are you sick!" you said panicking as you reached over the table. "Here, let me check your forehead."

"(Y/n) focus! I'm being serious here." She pouted, smacking your hand away.

"I know, I know. I was only kidding," you retorted back, casually. "But really, what is the Feast of St. Thomas?"

"Well, just like you just though, you would think it's about eating, but it's not. Which I find odd, if you ask me," she announced, look off to the side.

"Okay then. So what do you exactly have to do!" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you. "Are we going to have to do this together?"

"No. You're going to have to do it yourself," Sasha declared, pointing an all-knowing finger at you. "The instructions are sim-"

"Wait! Wait! Wait! I have to do this on my own!" you gawked. "I thought this was some activity for a group of people."

"You sort of are in a group," she pondered. "But in all honesty, you have to do it by yourself."

"Why?" you asked taking what Sasha was saying. "Have you done this before!?"

"Yes I have!" Sasha said, eyes beaming with excitement. "You have to tell me what happens! In full detail and don't hold back either!"

"All right, I will," you agreed, not understanding what she was talking about. "I'll do it, but you have to tell me how first."

"Oh right! I didn't explain everything did I," she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck.

"No, you didn't, but that's my fault though," you said, hanging your head down in shame.

"You might want to write this down first," she pointed out.

"You raised a questioning eyebrow, but complied to her request.

"First, you have to step on a stool and get into bed," Sasha explained carefully, watching as you wrote down what she was saying.

"Okay, then what?"

"Then, while your standing on the bed, you take off your shoes, or slippers."

"What the heck is this! Am I summoning a demon, Sasha!"

"No! Of course not! Just hush up and write," she said, pointing to the page in front of you.

"Fine," you huffed in defeat. "What do you do next?"

"You spin around three times," she chuckled with delight.

"Three times?"

"Yes, three times. Then you throw your shoes at the door."

"Is there more?"

"All you have to do then is sleep with you feet at the head of the bed," she finished triumphantly.

"Got it. Are you going to tell me what's the purpose of all this," you asked, putting the sheet of paper in you backpack.

"(Y/n), if you follow these instructions very carefully," Sasha stated, completely ignoring your question.

"Why do I have to follow them carefully?"

"That, my dear friend, is something you are going to have to find out," she grinned. "When are you going to do it?"

"Tomorrow."

"What!?" She said as her eyes became the size of dinner plates. "No! No! No! (y/n) you have to do it tonight!"

"Sasha, chill! I'll do it tonight, but I'm still not understanding why though," you thought out loud.

"Trust me, it's nothing bad."

You were about to respond, but the bell went off, signaling study hall was ever.

"I'll see you later, (y/n)," Sasha said, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "I get to have your lunch, right."

"Some of it! You get to have some of it. You can't have all of it," you shot back. "I still need to eat."

"Yeah, yeah ,yeah," she waved it off with a shake of her hand. "Bye! Remember to tell me who the man you your dreams is!"

"Sasha! You didn't mention anything about a man!" you yelled after her.

If I would have known that, I wouldn't have agreed to this.

Huffing out a sigh, you quickly packed up you things and headed towards your locker, so you could exchange some of your things.

Standing there in front of your locker was Jean Kirschtein, the schools most arrogant jock, was blocking your only way into your locker.

Great, just great. I'm going to be late for Algebra...again, you internally whined.

"To hell with it!" you declared, shoving him out of the way. "Move it of lose it here. I got a class in two minutes, and I don't intend to be late!"

"What the hell is your problem!" Jean hollered, shaking his fist at you. "You can't just be shoving people because there in your way!"

"Oh, yes I can!" you retorted back, opening your locker, throwing your books in and grabbing your Algebra supplies. "Maybe if you weren't in my way, I would not be shoving you to begin with!"

"You can't be serious. Are you?" he questioned raising an accusing eyebrow.

"I am and what are you going to do about it? Horse-Face," you countered, slamming your locker door shut as you turned to him.

"Don't call me that!" he growled. "I already get enough of it from the suicidal bastard, and I don't need it from you!"

"Yeah. Yeah. Whatever you say, Muffintop," you agreed, not caring about the conversation anymore. "Now if you'll excuse me."

"Just where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you," he said, stepping in your way.

"I'm going to class. That's where I'm going," you said sarcastically, stepping aside, but Jean blocked your path again.

"Ah. Ah. Ah. I'm not done talking to you," he said, glaring at you.

"Well, I am!" you murmured, trying to go around the other side, but again he blocked you path. "Oh, come on! I'm going to be late, for sure this time, thanks to you!"

"You should have thought of that before you decided to shove me," he persisted. getting closer.

"You're an ass," you thought out loud, slamming the heel of your shoe on his foot."

"Ow!! What the hell was that for (y/n)!" he shrieked, attending his now hurting foot.

"That was for making me late."

You left without another word, leaving him alone, storming down the hall right as the bell rang.

That jerk! Making me late! I pity the poor girl who falls for him.





Upon returning home after receiving detention, no thanks to a certain Horse-Faced idiot, you went straight to the kitchen to find something to eat.

After you finished your meal, you headed to your room to finish what little homework you had.

When it came around time to get ready for bed, you were feeling giddy. Very, very giddy.

You retrieved the paper from your bag preparing yourself.

Standing by the edge of your bed, you red, out loud, the instructions Sasha had given you.

"Step on a stool and get into bed."

Looking around your room, you found a stool. You placed it near the bed and stepped on it and stood on the bed.

"Take your shoes off."

Picking up your feet, one at a time, you took your shoes. You held onto them as you almost fall off the bed.

"Spin around three times and throw your shoes at the door."

Going around slowly, you spun three times and threw your shoes towards the door, giggling the whole time.

"Sleep with your feet at the head of the bed."

You grabbed your pillow and placed it at the foot of your bed and crawled under the covers.

"Now I'll be able to see the man of my dreams."

You turned of the light on your nightstand and fell into a deep sleep...


It's the early spring. The sun is out, casting it's rays on the earth. The flower buds are just starting to sprout, but the chill of winter still lingers in the air.

You were in a church, waiting to be wed, wearing the same gown your mother wore when she got married.

You were with your bridesmaids, trying to take a peak at your soon to be husband, but the only thing you saw was his silhouette, who was talking amongst his groomsmen.

Just by looking at him, you felt your stomach doing somersaults, but in a good way.

"(Y/n)."

"Earth to, (y/n)."

"Are you even listening to me?"

"(Y/n)!"

"You were broke out of your trance by someone shaking you.

"W-what?" you said, looking at who had shaken you. "Sasha!?"

"About time! I thought you were getting cold feet," she sighed. "I've been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes!"

"I'm sorry, Sasha. I was just calming down me nerves. Well trying to, that is," you lied, hoping she would let it go.

"That's perfectly normal," she smiled, giving you a pat on the back. "Every new bride is."

Your father came up to you.

"Are you ready?" he asked. "It's about time."

"Yeah," you let out a shaky breath.

Sasha gave you a quick hug, saying you''l do fine, taking her bouquet walking down the isle, and took her spot with the rest of your bridesmaids.

Everyone, then, stood from their seats as the organ started.

"Ready?" your father asked, offering you his arm.

"As ready as I'll ever be, Dad," you laughed nervously, hooking your arm with his.

"Let's go Kiddo."

He placed his free hand on your shaking hand as you nodded in response.

You caught the glances of all your friends and family while you were walking down the isle, but you main focus was on the mysterious man you were about to marry.

When you reached the the front of the church, your father lifted your veil, took your hands and gave them to the unidentified man's warm hands.

Then the preacher started the ceremony, but you tuned him out, getting a good look at...

..Jean!!


You woke soon after, sitting up, as your eyes grew the size of dinner plates.

"Really! Jean! Out of all people! Why did it have to be him!" you cried, moving your pillow back in it's rightful place as you laid back down and stared at your ceiling.





When you arrived at school, Sasha kept bombarded you with questions.

"So who did you dream about last night?" She asked for the hundredth time.

"I told you, Sasha, I didn't dream about anyone. It didn't work for me last night," you lied.

"Oh please. I know you did. Why else would you be avoiding my questions?" she pointed out, seeing right through your lies.

"All right! I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell a single soul! You got it!" youu exploded, giving in to Sasha's pestering.

"Yes!!" Sasha cheered, fist-pumping the air. "I promise not to tell a single soul!"

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

The two of you sealed the deal by locking your pinkies together.

"It was Jean," you whispered, leaning in close so only you two could hear.

Sasha want silent, blinking owlishly, processing the new information you had given her, until the light bulb above her head turned on.

"Oh. My. Potatoes! The man you're destined to marry is Jean Kirschtein!" she screeched as youu put your hand over her mouth because everyone was giving you two add looks.

"Sh! Keep it down, would you! He might hear you!" you panicked, looking side to side, while Sasha's face turned beet red with excitement.

"I don't see what the big deal is?" she stated after removing your hand from her mouth. "Opposites attract. So, I guess, that makes sense, (y/n).

"Really. Then what's your excuse for getting Connie?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Who told you that!? I never mentioned it before!"

"you just did," you said walking away until you spotted Jean, who was conversing with Marco, wearing his usual smug look.

Then he looked in your general direction, shooting a small smile, gentle smile at you.

You looked off to the side, knowing your cheeks were a dark pink.

Sasha'a snickering broke you out of your little trance.

"What's so funny?" you barked.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," she let out grinning after she calmed herself sown. "You so like him, but your just too stubborn to admit it."

So what if I am. I won't be admitting soon. Well, at least, out loud, you thought as you looked over at Jean, without him noticing, thinking he may not be all that bad.