Christmas Eve
Eve woke up at 9:00 am, but didn’t immediately get out of bed. She had no idea what time it was and, at the moment, didn’t much care. She was laying in such a position that her right foot was curved over her left leg, knees bent together; her back was slightly arched over a stray piece of blanket. She found it comfortable with her left arm extended toward the empty side of the queen-sized bed, her right arm bent with her hand on her stomach. Something about this made her feel sexy. Her eyes were closed and lips smiling, brain consumed in the events of her dream: A recurring dream of Jason, her imagined tool for releasing sexual tension. His golden hair and beautiful blue eyes, and oh, that strong and handsome chest. The dream brings her a thousand miles into his arms, and him an entire night into her in other ways.
An hour later she remembered why she was interrupting her fantasies in the first place. Her follow-up interview with Tom from Springville Public Libraries was scheduled for 11:00. She masturbated in the shower to wash away the lingering thoughts of Jason and dolled herself up for the appointment. She ended as a storybook librarian: Black skirt down to her knees, black Mary Janes with white socks, a nicely fitted olive green cardigan sweater. Her hair was rolled into a tight bun that, by the time she reached the library, would be slowly falling apart, allowing just the perfect amount of stray black strands to settle across her cheeks. The perfect topping to her plain-Jane outfit were the thick brown nerd-glasses. Her skin, however, was still as smooth as ever; pale white with no hint of a tan, and softer even without the use of cosmetics.
She spent the next ten minutes searching her boxes and drawers for the set of gloves she brought with her to every job interview and every school exam. With their company, she received acing grades and an excellent position at Mill View’s Historical Museum. They couldn’t have gotten far unless they were still tucked away in some lonesome box, but she was positive she had everything ready the night previous. Reading the clock at 10:50 she realized there was no way she could search them in time. She tried to convince herself that since she had already passed a phone interview with flying colors, she wouldn’t have to worry about this one; but somehow she still felt empty and anxious without them.
“This yours?” Liam said to her as she flew down the stairs, already late for her interview. He was holding out her lucky blue gloves; she still swore they were in her room.
“Yeah, thanks,” Eve replied, perhaps a little too sarcastically. He might have been offended, but she was too rushed to take notice. Making her way into the kitchen through the hallway to the left of the stairs, she frantically searched for her car keys. William was already in front of the coffeemate when she arrived, leaning against the counter with a tricky notion in his eyes. She ignored him. Boys can play their weird awful games if they’d like, but she had an employer to impress. She darted back and forth through the room at an amazing pace, managed to serve herself a bagel with jelly and some orange juice, but ended still without keys. Eager and displeased, she intended to leave the room in search elsewhere as Liam shook his head in amusement. She decided to only aknowledge his eyes upon her instead of dealing with an entire situation of her clumsiness pleasing a guy. “What?” she said to him unapprovingly.
“Nothing. I just think you give up too easily.”
“Care to explain further?”
“Caught under the mistletoe!” Sophie noted to Eve and Liam with a smile as she passed between them, entering the kitchen. “Just put it up yesterday.” The victims exchanged an awkward glance, but did not move. “Come on, Christmas spirit. Now you two sulkies have to kiss.” Eve glared at her as she opened the milk and poured it into a glass, but Sophie waited expectantly. Liam looked up at the plant, sighed, and put his hands in his pockets. Nervous and not knowing why, she expected a kiss on the mouth like in the movies. Under the holly leaves they always kiss passionately and it always makes the viewer close her eyes and lick her lips in jealousy. No matter what the discrepancy, they always fell in love after that kiss caught under the mistletoe. This wasn’t a romantic love story movie; this was real life, but Eve could still feel the tingle his soft lips left on her right cheek long after the awkward after-kiss pause. He removed his hands from his pockets long enough to hand her the car keys off the counter behind him, and swiftly left the room and house all together.
She was looking in the rear view mirror at a stop light, her reflection jealous and void of the sensation that came with the smile. He may be a thoughtless jerk, but she never said he wasn’t cute.
