summary: Anna Fetterman couldn't believe her luck. What are the chances of running into a cute boy at the mall and then running into that same cute boy at a party and then getting to know said cute boy? //oneshot//
a/n: I know it's a little late for the holidays, but whatever, right? XD
Okay, so you remember in LYKY, Anna Fetterman mentioned she had a boyfriend named Carl (in the pharmacy)? This is how I think she met him. Yep, and...Anna's 14. Yeah. (: Oh, THANK YOU MOONWOLF27 FOR BETA-ING THIS FOR ME! -hug!-
disclaimer: I am neither cool nor smart enough to own the Gallagher Girls Series. d;
Once Upon A Christmas
"But, Annaaaa!" Robby whined, tugging on my sleeve. "Mom said so! We have to go see Santa!"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes; he's a fourth grader and he was totally pumped to sit on Santa's lap.
We were walking through the mall entrance the weekend before Christmas weaving through the masses of people.
I don't know why I was in charge of finishing off our holiday shopping list. Or why I had to take my brother along. Dad said something about bonding. Mom said just do it. Or else. If you know my mom, you really don't want to know what the or else is.
"I'll tell Mom on you if you don't!" Robby threatened.
I groaned. It was one of those situations where the parents side with their youngest child, and there was no way going around it. "Fine, we'll stand in a freakishly long line just so you can talk to Santa."
I practically felt his smile widen.
One minute we were minding our own business, heading for the holiday throne Chris Cringle sat on each and every year, the next we're being mobbed by about a million younger kids, running in the same direction.
This is what I meant by freakishly long line.
Robby quickened his pace next to me, and soon we were in the back of the freakishly long line of cheery parents and grinning children.
"What should I ask Santa for this year?!" Robby jumped up and down. "Do you think he'll get me Return of the Monsters? Remember last year, I told him I wanted that action figure? And he got it for me!"
My shoulders hunched; this was going to be a freakishly long day.
: : : :
Robby's jumping was getting annoying. We were finally first in the freakishly long line and he was getting a little bit crazy, even though we've been doing this for the past three years.
"Anna! We're next!" he squealed next to me.
"I kno—oomph!"
Behind me, some eager little kid was dancing around his parents and flailing his arms about just like Robby was to me. The mom sent me an apologetic smile.
"Look, Anna! They're taking the picture! We're next!"
I pulled out my phone out of my teeny purse to check the time; we had been standing in the freakishly long line for forty-three minutes and thirty four seconds. We had wasted forty-three minutes and thirty four seconds.
"Just tell him what you want, Robby," I instructed with an exasperated sigh.
He was too busy waiting for the little kid on Santa's lap to get off to pay any attention to me.
I rolled my eyes and tried to put my cell back in my purse. Key word: tried. The same eager kid from before got a little too eager and accidentally bumped me again, knocking the phone out my hand, onto the cold tile floor underneath a reindeer, a couple of feet away. I let out a strangled whimper and glanced behind me at the mother of the child.
Now, she was holding the boy firmly by the wrist. Serves him right.
"I'm sorry," she said to me. Then she glanced at her son and pushed him forward.
"Me too," he said in a quiet voice.
I suppressed a smile. "It's okay," I replied.
The little boy grinned and started to dance around again.
By that time, Robby was already running to Santa. I sighed and crouched onto my knees and stretched my arm out under the Christmas decorations. I scrunched my nose when my fingers touched some fuzzy crumbly stuff. I finally found the cell phone, but I had already missed what I shouldn't have.
I was pulling myself off the floor when I felt the familiar grasp of my brother's around my wrist. I didn't have time to ask any questions because he screamed,
"RUN!"
And we were off.
"What's going on?" I whisper-yelled at him, as we maneuvered through the crowds of people.
"I was just asking Santa to get me a few things," Robby started to explain, but he was talking so fast, I barely understood what he was saying. "And then, and then, he got this angry look on his face and he yelled and I started to run and we're running and I told you what happened and and—"
"Okay, okay!" I stopped him from going any further, almost running straight into a baby carriage. I looked over my shoulder to see if running away was really worth it.
Sure enough, back at the glorious throne, Santa was looking pretty agitated talking to a couple of security guards. He pointed in our direction and the guards followed his finger until their eyes met mine.
Uh-oh.
I held onto Robby's hand tighter and ducked down. I did not want to get caught up with the police. Again. The last time something like this happened (about five months ago at the community swimming pool… Don't ask.), Mom, Dad, and I had to attend this "How-To-Take-Care-Of-Your-Child-Properly" kind of class with a bunch of crazies. And let me tell you, it wasn't fun.
"Santa!" Robby suddenly called out, trying to turn back, but my grip was firm (good thing I had paid close attention in P&E). "Santa, I've been good I swear!" I could hear the hysteria in his voice. I could feel the blood from my face draining.
It wasn't a good thing when my brother looses sanity. "I SWEAR, SANATAAA!" he started to yell.
I muttered a prayer in a language Robby wouldn't understand and made a sharp right turn where the crowd allowed me. There was a narrow hall way with an exit sign above it; I figured we had better make our get away quick.
"'Scuse me!" I hollered to many of the irritated shoppers. Usually, I wouldn't want to start something at the mall the weekend before Christmas, because that's when all the last-minute annoyed-by-everything shoppers come out. They're all frantic and scatterbrained, and they're easily irked. "Sorry!"
Next to me, Robby's breath started to come in quick short breaths; he was tired. I pushed him ahead and looked behind me again.
The two security guards from before were walking fast around the people and their eyes were watchful. I put my head down again as we were about to enter the corridor and—
"Whoa!"
Robby came to a stop in front of me and I bumped into him, causing him to bump in to the guy. Wait… The guy?!
He had this bewildered expression on his face, probably because two random kids just crashed into him. His hair was a messy mop of sand. And he was tall. My face turned red.
"Ohmygosh, sorry!" I squeaked out. "We were just—"
"It's cool," he interrupted me, with a smile, "Don't worry about it."
Robby wormed out of my grip and looked around the corner.
"Anna…" My brother's voice was anxious. He was pulling on my sleeve.
I peaked over his head, where I saw the security guards making their way towards us pushing random shoppers out of the way.
"Who're you running away from?" a husky voice whispered beside me.
I yelped, but didn't move a muscle.
The guy was standing next to me. I mean, not right right next to me, but pretty darn close. If that doesn't make a girl's heart rate speed up, I don't know what does.
"I-I, uhm," I squeaked intelligently.
"Santa's mad at me," Robby started to clarify. He had this smug smile on his face; like making Santa Claus angry was some kind of accomplishment. "And those guys are after us." He pointed at the security guards heading our way.
"Wegottago," I strung my words together before allowing the guards to come any closer, grabbing Robby's wrist again, and pushed past the boy.
"See you 'round!" he called after us.
But I was already half way out the door.
: : : :
My mom, being the spy that she is, has connections. And not just the kinds who give you rides all over the world. Or the kinds who give you fancy gadgets for missions. No, some connections invite you and your family to extravagant parties. You know, just for fun.
Mom (in one of her classy dresses), Dad (in one of his few ties), and Robby (in clean clothes), and I (in my only embellished ensemble) were just driving up to a huge mansion (it almost beat Gallagher Academy's).
"Best behavior, Robby," Mom reminded my brother.
He wasn't paying any attention to her though. He was making images in the foggy car window.
"Keep an eye on your brother, Anna," she instructed me.
I nodded my head from the back seat.
When we parked the car, Dad tried to straighten out his tie, but Mom had to help him. She dusted off his shoulders as Robby ran to the doorbell.
I pulled on his arm quickly so he couldn't ring the bell more than two times. If you didn't already know that it might be annoying to hear ding dong ding dong ding dong ding dong about a million times repeatedly, it is.
A man clad in a sharp tuxedo opened the door. His hair was combed back and he had this sparkling white smile.
"Ah, the Fettermans!" he exclaimed. It's good to see you, Melissa!"
"Thank you for inviting us, Clark!" Mom replied, hugging Clark.
"Merry Christmas," Dad said, shaking the man's hand.
"You remember Anna and Rob," Mom waved us through the door.
Inside, a large carpet covered the tiles, a staircase split the room, hallways bended, music boomed, and chatter was coming from everywhere.
"How ya been?" Clark asked us. Obviously, he did remember us, while I only vaguely recall him from years ago. From what I know, he's a wealthy businessman (duh!) and he's helped Mom with a few problems. It seemed like he had a few connections himself, by the sound of all the noise.
"Good," I replied, trying to be polite.
Robby's eye just widened at the sight of the dangling chandelier overhead.
Clark chuckled. "Well, there are refreshments on those tables"—he pointed to the ones standing against a wall, where the other sons and daughters were hanging out—"make yourself at home!"
Mom and Dad shot us smiles that said, "Have a nice time" and "Don't you dare cause any trouble," and followed Clark down one of the corridors, probably to make small talk with some of the other guests.
As soon as they left the room, Robby shot off towards the snacks and drinks. I followed him shaking my head.
I recognized some of the teenagers from other parties, but I was never really acquainted with any of them, me being gone for the school year. I smiled and waved tentatively at some of them, and I tried to join in on their conversations, but I'm no chatterbox.
Robby was chasing down one of the younger kids around the room, almost breaking a few vases. I had to separate him from the others for a while, even so, the instant I let go of his wrist, he was off.
I sighed and made my way down one stray hallway, looking for the restroom, using it as an excuse to get away from the party. I was about to turn a corner, when—you guessed it—I stopped short before bumping into someone.
I had heard the faint footsteps, but my chin was taped to my chest. I waited for the passerby to, well, pass, but he didn't. I figured he was a he since I had a pretty good view of his glossy dress shoes.
"Huh, what a coincidence."
My head snapped up at the familiar sound of his voice.
It was the same guy from the mall, except he was in a pair of clean pressed pants and a nice shirt. His hair was still messy, but it was gelled to keep it in place. He had this goofy smile on his face.
"W-What are you doing here?" I breathed, trying to keep my heart rate under control.
"I came for the free food," he answered with a laugh. "And my parents work with Clark at the company. What are you doing here?"
He said it in a playful tone. He was teasing. That's not something a spy hears every day.
WhatdoIsaywhatdoIsaywhatdoIsay?!
"I, uhm," I started off, "my Mom. She knows Clark."
"Cool," he said sliding in that same smile from the day at the mall.
My finger found its way to one of the ends of my hair and started to twirl the strand around.
"So," he began slowly, raising his eyebrow, "where're you headed off to? There's nothing down that way."
"Oh, uhm." I answered stupidly.
"Y'know," he said, "the free food is thatta way." He pointed the way I had come from.
"I know," I replied quietly, positively sure I was making a fool of myself.
"Alright then," he said. "Shall we?"
He held out his elbow like a gentleman might do in one of those classic movies. My jaw almost dropped, but I've had enough spy training to not give into disbelief. …Well, for the most part—I just know my eyes widened.
He didn't wait for me to answer, he slid his arm around one of mine, and turned me around, pulling me down the passageway.
Being in close proximity of this boy—I couldn't help but think he was pretty cute—almost made me hyperventilate.
"I'm Carl," he said, turning his head to look at me.
"Anna," I replied with what I hoped was a smile.
Carl stroked his chin dramatically with his other hand. "Hmm…"
Curiosity got the better of me. "What?"
"Your name," he answered. "I can come up with plenty of nicknames for you."
I giggled.
"Banana…" he started. Then his eyebrows furrowed. "That's all I got." His laugh echoed in the narrow hallway.
I bit my lip. "Barrel?" I offered.
"What?" His expression was amused.
"Carl, Barrel…" I tried to explain, blushing furtively, hiding my face behind my hair.
To my surprise, he laughed again! "Okay, I'll be Barrel and you can be Banana."
I couldn't help but laugh along with him; his carefree attitude was contagious. I didn't care that we were going back to a bunch of teenagers I had absolutely nothing in common with. I didn't care that I had left my hyperactive nine-year-old brother when I should have been keeping an eye on him. I didn't care.
I tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled.
: : : :
We talked for a long time. But it wasn't just the two of us. It turned out that Carl knew some of the other guests' sons and daughters (figures, he could get alone with almost anyone!). I befriended a few of the girls who "adored my skirt" and when hockey came up in the boys' conversation, I jumped right in. I told them I couldn't play very well, but I knew the basic actions and rules. In a few short hours, I found plenty of common ground with these other teenagers. Thanks to Carl. It was like he gave me a confidence boost I've always had somewhere in me, but… only now is it coming out.
At one point, I really did need to use the restroom, and Carl offered to show me the way. He explained to me that he knew this mansion very well, where the broom closest was located, and even where the laundry room was. That kind of explained why I bumped into him earlier that night and at the mall with my brother. He liked to figure things out (Rubik's cube, 1000 piece puzzles, crosswords).
When I came out of the spotless washroom, Carl was leaning against the wall coolly. He smiled and started down in the opposite direction from which we came. I didn't question it though; it was pretty obvious he knew where he was going.
"You know," he said, cocking an eyebrow, "you never told me why Santa was mad at your brother."
I let out a small laugh. "To tell you the truth, I don't know why. I was picking up my cell phone off the floor and then Robby was telling me to run. And then we, uhm, ran into you…" I hid my reddening face behind my hair again.
Carl stroked his chin. "Why was your cell on the floor?"
Of all the question he could have asked, he chose that one. I laughed again.
"This little kid bumped me and my phone fell," I explained simply, pushing my hair out of my face.
"I see."
The music and jabber of the party was becoming louder with each step. Before I knew it, we were just about to walk back into the room with all my newfound friends.
Half of me dreaded going back. I liked being with Carl, even if it had only been three hours, fifty-five minutes, and twelve seconds. Somehow, he coaxed me out of my shell and I liked being able to breathe a little.
The other half of me knew we had to return sometime, if not to rejoin the teens, to keep Robby under control.
The two of us were just about to exit the hall, when—once again—I stopped in my tracks, but only because Carl had beside me.
This time it was my turn to cock an eyebrow.
"Don't look now," Carl's husky voice whispered, his eyes finding the ceiling.
Everyone knows when somebody says don't look now it means to look. And I did.
Above us, hanging from the doorway, was a small leaf of mistletoe. My breath caught in my throat.
Of all the hallways we could have gone down, he picked this one, and I just knew that he had planned this. The whole time.
My heart rate sped up.
WhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo?!
I might be a spy-in-training, but there are some things not even spies—let alone girls—expect. Getting kissed by a really cute boy is one of those things.
: : : :
a/n: -giggle- How was that? hehe.
Onto some business: Sorry I haven't updated More Than Meets The Eye in a while. I hit a HUGE problem and I had to fix it (it's still in the works). But don't worry, it won't be too long before the next update... don't hold me to that (I have finals this week).
I hope you all had a wonderful holiday break! And don't forget to review on your way out! :D