The Only Thing On My Wishlist

“I have to go home.”

She whispered this to me in the dark of my room, with the DVD menu for A Christmas Story playing on a loop.

“What?” I croaked, rolling onto my side.

“That was my mom,” she explained, sinking down beside me. “She wants me to come home. I guess she’s worried about me.”

Apparently we’d fallen asleep, or I’d fallen asleep, and all I could think as I stretched and sat up in bed was that all the time I’d spent sleeping was wasted time—I could have been spending time with her instead.

But she had to go home eventually.

“Well, I’d be worried too,” I told her, finally pulling myself out of my sleep-induced haze, “if you weren’t sitting next to me right now.”

She smiled, but it came off forced.

“Everything alright?” I asked, sitting up completely.

She shrugged. “I just… I guess I just don’t want to go home yet is all.”

I quirked an eyebrow at me. “Want to stay here and hide in my bed for a few days?”

“Would that be a bad thing?” she countered, shooting me a mischievous grin.

“I wouldn’t complain a bit,” I announced, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her back into bed beside me.

She shrieked, laughing in surprise and kicking her legs as I pinned her underneath me. I straddled her waist, my hands resting against her sides.

“Now who’s taking advantage of who?” she challenged, grabbing my wrists.

I smirked. “It’s not considered taking advantage of you if you like it.”

She scoffed, outraged. “You have no idea—”

I dug my fingers into her ribcage, tickling her, but she just stared up at me, unmoved.

“What are you doing?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

I blinked at her. “Well… I thought tickling was pretty transatlantic, but if you need me to explain it, when I tickle you, you’re supposed to—”

She giggled. “I’m not ticklish.”

“You’re not?” I replied, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “I thought… I thought all girls were ticklish!”

As soon as the words left my mouth, she released my lips and dug her fingers into my armpits. I let out a shout, reeling back, but in that moment of weakness she was able to turn the tables. The next thing I knew, she and I had switched positions, and her fingers were resting dangerously against my sides.

“Apparently you’re not excluded from that.”

I shot her a cheeky smile. “Are you trying to tell me something by calling me a girl?”

She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, it’ll take more than Grant to turn me off of men.” She pressed her fingers into my ribcage, just lightly, as she leaned closer and said, “Boys on the other hand… well, I could probably do without them.”

“Oh, so I’m just a boy now?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but her words were lost in the sound of her phone ringing on my bedside table. She sighed and climbed off of me, grabbing her phone as she staggered to her feet.

“Hello?” she answered, leaning against my desk.

I sat up and straightened out my rumpled shirt, trying to pretend I wasn’t listening as she assured whoever was on the phone that she was going to be home soon, that everything was fine, that she would explain what was going on when she got home.

“Yes, yes, I promise I will get her car first,” she said as she grabbed her shoes. “Now, I have to go if you ever want me to leave. Okay, goodbye.” She hung up and shoved her phone into her purse, turning away from me.

I watched her as she sat at the edge of my bed and began slipping on her shoes. Her hair fell around her shoulders, shielding her face from my view.

“That was Lucy. She’s been calling nonstop,” she told me. “My mom too, but not as incessantly.”

“Not surprising,” I croaked, rubbing my hands over my eyes. “Mums are a calm breed compared to Lucy. And that’s saying something, considering you’ve met mine.”

She laughed. “Hey, be nice. I like your mom.”

“You would,” I accused, shooting her a look as I climbed out of bed and grabbed my own shoes, “because she likes you. I’m in a different situation with her.”

“Josh, your mother adores you,” she replied with a scoff, reaching over to ruffle my hair.

I froze, my foot halfway in my shoe, and closed my eyes, the feeling of her fingers in my hair all too familiar. I was afraid if my heart beat any louder, she’d start asking if someone was holding a tribal meeting nearby. I needed to calm down.

“Yeah?” I finally squeaked, grabbing my other shoe and avoiding her eye. “Well, she feeds me and lets me live here, so I guess I can’t argue with that.”

When I finally looked at her, she was staring at me funny.

“What?” I asked, touching my face in case I’d drooled in my sleep or something else equally humiliating.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head and looking away quickly.

When we got downstairs, my parents were both gone, so I locked up the house and we braved the cold, windy night. There was fresh snow falling lightly from the sky, and Elliot gripped my arm as we started down the front steps, probably fearing a patch of ice even though my dad paid a kid down the street to salt our driveway and front walk whenever there was ice.

As we climbed into my car, I stole a look at Elliot. She was staring blankly out the windshield as she buckled her seatbelt and tugged at her gloves and adjusted the air vents so that the heat would hit her when I finally turned it on, and I realized in that moment that I wasn’t ready for her to go home yet.

On the way back to the hotel where we’d left Trisha’s car that afternoon, I made a quick decision to delay the process, probably at her expense but ultimately with her happiness in mind.

“Josh,” she said as I turned off the main road, “I know I’m not an expert or anything, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t the way to my mom’s car.”

I smiled. “I want to show you something.”

There was a house not far from mine that lit up like the London Eye every holiday season. The lights flashed and flickered and danced, really danced. Lights covered the property from the edge of the lawn to the tip of the roof, blinking along to the music to which it was synchronized. They had their own station on the radio that played Christmas music from the time the lights turned on until they went off at sunrise. There was always a line of cars in the circle where the house sat, especially as Christmas grew nearer.

“They do it for a charity,” I explained to Elliot as I parked in front of the house. “It’s been like this every year for as long as I can remember.”

She had her nose pressed against the window, eyes wide. “This is amazing.”

An instrumental version of Jingle Bells drifted through my car speakers, and I leaned back in my seat and watched her as she gazed at the dancing lights in wonder. Drummer boys drummed, reindeers’ legs moved in unison, and Santa waved. Elliot’s breath was beginning to fog the window.

“Josh?” she whispered, turning around to face me.

“Yeah?”

She unbuckled her seatbelt and shifted in her seat, pushing herself over the middle console. I held my breath and closed my eyes as she rested on hand on my cheek and pressed her forehead against mine. Our noses touched.

Her phone rang again, blaring loudly from inside her purse. She sighed and pulled away, rolling her eyes.

“I should have put it on silent,” she muttered. “Or thrown it in the garbage.”

I smiled. “I thought we were taking it slow.”

She shot me a sideways look as she pulled her phone out of her purse and declined the call. Then she made a point of turning it off, dropped it back in, and turned to me.

“Yeah, we are,” she replied. “But I really want to kiss you right now.”

I was still smiling when her lips touched mine.

&&

I called Elliot as soon as I woke up the next morning, but she was busy shopping with Lucy for her Secret Santa gift.

“She’s kidnapped me for the entire day,” she whispered, and I could hear traffic in the background.

“Quit complaining like you don’t want to hang out with me!” Lucy shouted in the background. ”I’m loads of fun and the like, okay?”

I chuckled. “I argue a day with Lucy,” I told her. “Mostly because she’d shatter my kneecaps if I did.”

Elliot laughed. “Have I mentioned that I wish I was with you right now?”

Lucy gagged in the background.

“I wish you were with me too,” I admitted sheepishly, ducking my head even though I was alone in my bedroom. “Maybe I’ll see you later tonight?”

“Only if my prison warden allows it.”

“I’m not a prison warden!” Lucy protested.

“I was talking about my mom, Luce.”

“Hey, mate!”

I jumped about a foot in the air as Max burst into my room, a wide grin plastered on his face. “Jesus, Max!”

“Max is there? Fantastic, now I’m never going to get to see you.”

“Girls are having some kind of girlie day,” Max informed me. “That leaves us men to do manly things. I say we start at the pub, then hit the nudie clubs.”

“Did he just say nudie clubs?”

“WHO’S TALKING ABOUT NUDIE CLUBS?”

I groaned. “He’s just being a tit. No one’s going to any nudie clubs.”

“Well, Lucy’s already having a conniption over it, so the damage is done.”

“I’m sure I’ll be getting an earful later,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead.

“If you’re not careful, I might hand you over to her now, she threatened.

“Careful? Am I not being perfectly charming right now?”

Max raised an eyebrow at me. “Who’re you talking to?”

I tried to wave him off, but he plucked the phone from my hand before I could fight him off.

“Hello?” he practically shouted into my phone, dodging me as I lunged for him.

“Max!” I protested, grabbing at him again, but he gave me a swift elbow in the side, and I collapsed on my bed.

“Oh, hello, Elliot. I didn’t realize… What, you don’t want to talk to me? Am I not good enough any… NO, DON’T GIVE HER THE—Hi, Luce.” He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah, no, I was just joking about that… Well, yes.” He sighed as he turned back to face me and held the phone out, giving me a pleading look.

“Oh, I don’t need a ticket to that rodeo,” I told him, lounging on my bed. “That’s what you get for it.”

Max groaned. “Lucy, I think Josh wants to speak to Elliot again… No, I’m not trying to get off the phone so I can go fondle some topless dancer… No, I don’t even want to go look!” His cheeks went red. “Yes, I understand… No, don’t make me—Ugh, okay, I understand that if I go to some nudie club, I’m admitting that I am no longer sexually attracted to you and may as well start stocking up images for the wank bank and embrace the single life.”

I snorted. “She’s really serious about this, isn’t she?”

He shot me a look. “Right, got it. No nudie clubs. Your tits are the only ones I want to see. Ever. I swear on Josh’s life.”

“Oi!”

“Okay, my life too. Yeah, I love you—wait! Don’t you love—okay, good. Bye.”

“Wait!” But he’d already hung up.

“What?” he asked, tossing me my phone.

I glared at him. “I wasn’t quite finished talking on my phone.”

“Well, apparently she was finished with you. Now can you get dressed? We’re finishing your Secret Santa hunt today and then we’re getting pissed with the lads.”

“What if I’ve got plans?”

“You’re canceling,” he answered simply. Then he turned and walked out. “I’ll be waiting downstairs,” he called on his way into the hall.

He and Lucy really spent too much time together.

&&

“So what are your clues again?” Max asked as we climbed out of his car almost an hour later.

I yawned, stretching my arms up over my head. “Hates Christmas. Loves Trafalgar Square.”

“Sounds like a peach,” Max decided, starting down the street.

I shrugged. “I’ve no idea who it might be,” I admitted as I held open a door for a pair of women my mum’s age and then stepped inside.

“I mean, how do you hate Christmas but love Trafalgar Square?” he continued, touching a few hangers absent-mindedly as we started toward the movies section. “They’ve got the giant tree there. It’s practically the North Pole.”

“Yeah?” I replied, laughing. “Only without the elves.”

“Except during the summer when that midget male prostitute starts hanging about.”

“True.”

“So if you’ve no idea if you’re buying for a girl or some bloke, what exactly are you planning on getting?”

I shrugged and held up a copy of Smokin’ Aces. “Pretty unisex gift, yeah?”

Max snorted. “Lucy’s lucky you’re not her Secret Santa.”

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smirk as I thought about the lingerie set I knew he had waiting to give to Lucy as her Secret Santa.

“Well, what do you suggest then?” I asked, setting the film back on the shelf. “Since you seem to be the expert on gift-giving.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know that no girl is going to want to get Smokin’ Aces as a gift.”

“Some might,” I mumbled, turning away from him. “Anyway, how do we know it’s a girl?”

“Because what bloke would pick Trafalgar Square as his favorite place?”

I scoffed. “Sod off, yeah? I picked Trafalgar Square.”

He snorted. “My point’s been made then, hasn’t it?”

“You’re an arse,” I accused. I turned away from him, scuffing my shoe against the floor as I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. “I went there with Ellie once.”

“Oh yeah?” He raised his eyebrows at me.

I shot him a glare. “Don’t say a word.”

He just laughed as he wandered down the aisle toward the giant television displays.

As soon as he was gone, I started back toward the front of the store, turning the clues over in my mind for any sort of hint as to who I was buying a gift for. It should have been easy, because I’d known almost everyone in the running for a good number of years, but for some reason, I was drawing a blank. It didn’t help that a bunch of people had already figured out who they had and who had them. It should have, but all it did was narrow the pool to an even smaller group of people who I couldn’t choose between.

I was staring at a pair of footie pajamas when it hit me. Ten minutes later I was at the registers, waiting for Max.

“You figured it out?” he asked as he approached.

I just smiled. “Hit me like a foot to the forehead.”

“You’ve got two gifts there, mate,” Max pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at me. “Feeling generous?”

“You could say that.”

I could have told him then, but why ruin a good surprise?