Once Upon A Christmas Eve: A Novella by Katie Klein Read Free Book Online

tightly to her chest with wrinkled fingers, swears anyone who goes after it will be disinherited immediately. He smiles at this, and secretly I think he wanted her to have it the whole time, that maybe he even bought it with her in mind—that he had a plan after all.
    When number fourteen rolls around, I stand from my place on the hearth, smooth my jeans.
    “Go, Olivia!” Mrs. Andrews calls, encouraging.
    “If you steal my cooler, you’re not invited back next year,” Trent warns. “I need it for tailgating.” I laugh at the promise of “next year.” The implication of permanent. Even though there is no such thing—no such thing as perfect, and no such thing as permanent—for this moment I let myself feel hopeful. I allow myself the expectation of the best possible outcome from this night—as dangerous as the feeling might be. 
    I don’t second guess or rethink my decision. I head immediately for the box wrapped in red paper and tulle, still tucked away in that pile. I carry it back to Jonathan, feeling everyone’s eyes watching, sit back down beside him and open it.
    “An ornament,” I announce, lifting it by the string.
    “Oh! That’s so pretty!” Tessa says, mouth forming a perfect circle.
    The next number is called.
    Jonathan leans closer. “How is that not cheating?” he asks, voice low, colored with humor.
    “The whole concept of this game is rooted in stealing gifts from each other,” I remind him. “I’m not entirely sure there’s a moral code in place.”
    Derrick is number eighteen. I know what’s happening as soon as Tessa climbs off his lap, moves to the chair. I know when he smirks at me, crosses the length of the room, what he’s about to do. I hold the box closer, laugh out loud while crying on the inside. “No!”
    “Sorry, Olivia,” he says.
    I give up the box. My ornament. Of course he’s getting it for Tessa.
    “Aww! Sorry, Olivia,” Mrs. Andrews says. “Looks like no one is safe tonight.”
    “It’s okay,” I assure them, heading back to the gift pile, searching for something new. I finally locate a small box, one of the few remaining, remove the lid. “A gift card to Cracker Barrel,” I tell them.
    Jonathan’s mom is next. She doesn’t hesitate, walks straight to Derrick. “Hand it over,” she insists. He shakes his head, sacrifices the ornament, heads back to the dwindling pile to find some new gift.
    The ornament is forgotten until Mrs. Andrews calls number twenty-two. When Jonathan stands beside me—confident, determined—steps over feet and piles of discarded paper, aiming straight for his mother.
    “Sorry, Mom.”
    “That’s three!” Mrs. Andrews calls. “Derrick stole it from Olivia, Vivian stole it from Derrick, and now Jonathan has it, so the ornament stays with him.”
    “Good work, Johnny Baby!” Leslie says. “Way to win it back for the girl!”
    “Nah. Matches my apartment,” he insists, even as color surfaces, cheeks flushing with embarrassment for having been called out so publicly.
    “See?” I whisper when the game ends a few minutes later. “Everyone’s happy. No pressure.”
    “Not everyone ,” he replies. “I believe this belongs to you.” He hands me the white box, the purple and blue ornament tucked safely inside, cushioned in tissue paper.
    “I thought it was for your apartment.”
    “I bet you did.” His mouth hints at a smile as he studies me with serious eyes. And I wonder what he’s thinking as a hush—this perfect stillness—settles between us. As my thoughts tumble over one another, a swirling fog, heart crashing against my chest, making it difficult to breathe. As I wonder what it would feel like to have his arms wrapped around me. For his lips to touch my own.
    “We should trade, at least. Make it fair,” I finally manage, reaching for the gift card. 
    Mrs. Andrews interrupts this exchange: “Smile, you two.”
    Jonathan slips his arm around me, hand resting just above my hip, the gesture itself so warm