I'm not even going to lie, helping Perry pack her bags was a total downer. And when LaFontaine knocked on the door with their suitcase in their hand, I got a little teary-eyed. LaFontaine set the suitcase down and tucked their hands into their coat pockets.

"Are you sure you don't want to just come home with us? My parents would love it! The more the merrier!"

"Nah," I said, "I promised Perry I'd take care of Prospective Students Week."

"Yeah," Perry said. "Laura is saving my neck. Otherwise, I'd be stuck here for the next two weeks, babysitting brats... I mean, supervising fine young men and women."

She gave me the most pitiful look.

"Seriously, I owe you," she said. "Like seriously, I'll bring back a million homemade cookies."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "It's nothing."

But even as I said it, I got that sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Won't your dad miss you?" LaFontaine said.

"Nope," I said. "He's busy anyway."

"Busy? On Christmas? Or, is it Hanukkah?"

"It's Christmas, thanks for asking, but yeah… he said he has to go to some last minute wilderness survival conference in Portland, so here I am. We'll just celebrate a little late this year. It's no big deal."

"Alright, well, I hate to rush things, but Perry, we kind of gotta go."

"I know, I know!" Perry said. "Don't worry your pretty little head. I'm never late."

She zipped up her suitcase and checked her watch.

"See! Right on the dot."

They shuffled out the door, and just before they left, Perry handed over the dorm keys, a huge rusty keyring filled with a mix of old, brass skeleton keys and smaller, modern ones.

"Whatever you do," she said. "Don't ever open door 444."

"444?" I said. "Is there even a fourth floor in this… you know what… I don't want to know."

A car honked outside.

"Have a great holiday!" I called as they shuffled down the front steps. "See you in a few weeks!"

"Bye!" Perry called from the car window. "Good luck with those high school kids! If you're not careful they'll eat you alive!"

LaFontaine waved and was about to get in, but then they turned around, running up the steps toward me. They grabbed me into a bear hug, quite unexpectedly — not that I'm complaining.

"I'll miss you," they said.

"It's nothing!" I said. "Just a few weeks! I'll see you in no time!"

"Well, try to have some fun, at least."

"Fun? You know me, I'm the queen of fun," I said. "Besides I have tons of plans, so…"

"Doctor Who marathon?"

"Yeah, pretty much," I said.

The car horn honked again.

"Now, you're making me late!" Perry shouted.

"Take care," LaFontaine said, squeezing my arm.

"Yeah! You, too!"

I watched the car pull away, hugging myself against the chilly morning air. And when they had turned the corner, I stepped back inside.

I walked up the stairs slowly. The building was quiet. LaFontaine and Perry were the last ones out. I held the heavy keyring in my hand, and when I got to the third floor landing, I remembered Perry's warning. I looked up the stairs.

Is there a whole other floor up there? I wondered.

I stood with my hand on the banister, leaning forward.

"Hello?" I called.

Silence.

Nevermind, I thought. This is going to be a magic free vacation! No sentient library card catalogs! No enchanted texts! No giant mushrooms!

When I opened the door, Carmilla was lying on her bed, her head on my pillow and her boots resting against the wall.

"Hey, Cupcake," she said. "You got a package."

"Oh," I said.

I picked up the box; it was from my dad. I sat down on my bed and stared at it.

"Well? Aren't you going to open it?"

"I thought you had plans this holiday," I said. "Aren't you supposed to be in Alaska or something? Land of the endless night? What did you call it? It's like a vampire's Ibiza?'"

"Oh, that? Something else came up."

"Something else came up?"

"Yeah," she said, sitting up.

We stared at each other for a minute.

"Oh, come on, the suspense is killing me!" she said.

"It's from my dad," I said. "It's my Christmas present, probably."

"I might be a little old, but, aren't you kids supposed to get excited about Christmas presents?"

"I would get excited, but I already know what it is. He gives me the same thing every year."

I sat with my hands on the box, rubbing my fingertip over the return address label.

"Fine," Carmilla said, standing up. "If you don't open it, I will."

She grabbed the box from my lap, carried it to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and stabbed the box two times. The sound made me jump. Then she set the knife aside and pulled the box open with her bare hands.

Jeez, she's strong! I thought.

I don't know if I thought her superhuman strength was a turn on or was just plain scary. Probably, both.

"Hmm," she said, regarding the items in the box. "Interesting choice."

"Let me guess, night goggles? A fresh supply of bear spray? A mosquito net? A solar powered GPS locator?"

"No," Carmilla said.

She reached into the box and pulled out a shiny, red welding torch.

"Perfect," I said. "Just what I always wanted."

"Well, it doesn't exactly scream holiday cheer, but at least it's red."

"Yeah, great," I said. "Now all we need is a string of lights and some popcorn garlands, and we can have ourselves the lamest Christmas tree ever."

"Wait, there's something else…"

Carmilla reached into the box.

Please let it be something frivolous! I thought. Heck! I'll even take socks! Just a pair of socks!

She pulled out a hand-crank flashlight.

"And that's not all..." she said.

She pulled out a welder's mask, the front flat and reflective. She slipped it over her head.

"Laura, I am your father," she said, her voice muffled and hollow behind the mask.

"Very funny," I said.

She picked up the welding torch and pulled the trigger, the flame flicking out like a dragon's tongue, catching fire to the candles over Carmilla's bed.

"Whoa!" she said, laughing. "This thing would be great for s'mores!"

"Holy crap, Carmilla!" I said, grabbing the torch from her hands. "You don't just operate a welding torch all willy-nilly without reading the instruction manual! Especially not indoors!"

"Instructional manual? What instruction manual?"

I dug into the packing peanuts and pulled out the paper pamphlet.

"This instruction manual!"

"What can I say?" she said, lifting the mask up. "I live life on the edge… Why would your dad send you a welding torch anyway?"

"Oh, you know, he's just trying his best to help me survive the imminent apocalypse. It's how he shows he cares."

"Hmm," Carmilla said. "That's sweet, I guess."

"You know what," I said. "Who needs presents anyway?! The last thing I want to do is contribute to the rampant consumerism in this country! No, I'm just going to stay out of it this year. I'm going to stay right here, watch my DVDs and reduce my carbon footprint for the holidays. It's my gift to the planet! Merry Christmas, Earth!"

In the process of my little speech, I had grabbed the mask and the welding torch from Carmilla's hands, tossed them back into the box, and shoved the box under my bed.

I sat at my computer desk with my arms crossed. I stared at the screen without really looking at it.

"Um," Carmilla said behind me. "Now that you've gone all anti-consumerist and stuff, this might not be the best time, but…"

Her words sparked my interest. She opened a drawer behind me.

"... I got you something."

She set a wooden box on the corner of the desk; it was dark cherry, tied up with a golden ribbon, and carved into the front was a seal of an old man holding a scythe.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," I said. "I don't have anything for you."

"It's fine," she said. "I told you, it was a last minute thing. Just open it."

"Okay," I said, and when I touched the golden ribbon, my heart skipped a beat.

A real present! I thought. Please, don't let it be something weird.

She must have noticed my hesitation.

"Don't worry," she said. "It's not a dried batwing or anything."

I laughed and pulled the lid off.

Inside the box, set in a green silk lining, was the most beautiful mask I'd ever seen. It was golden silk, and decorated with jewels and ribbons; the jewels looked strikingly real, and the ribbons were every shade of the rainbow. I picked it up.

Okay, that's impressive, I thought. A little kinky, but impressive.

"Wow!" I said. "Someone went a little crazy with the bedazzler!"

"You don't like it?"

"It's a mask."

"Yeah, but not just any mask! It's for The Masque of Saturn."

"The Masque of what?"

"It's a masquerade ball to celebrate the Saturnalia. It's very exclusive; I've been on the waiting list for thirty-three years."

"Thirty-three years?"

"Yeah, but this year there were some cancellations, so I guess you could say we got lucky."

"We?"

"Yeah, you and me. I'm allowed to bring a 'plus one.'"

She said this with her fingers in air quotations.

"Let me guess, this is a magical ball of some sort, isn't it?"

"Yes, I guess you could say it's... supernatural."

"I thought so."

"Well, if you don't want to come..."

"It's not that I don't want to come, it's just, I kind of swore off the supernatural for the holidays."

"Just like you swore off presents?"

I blushed.

"Anyway," she said. "Think about it. I've got to go get some, you know… groceries, before the lab closes for the holidays."

She walked toward the door, and I watched her go. Then she paused, leaning her weight against the door frame, looking down at her boots as she spoke.

"I mean, it would mean a lot to me, if you came," she said.

"Yeah, I know, I just…" I mumbled.

"Besides," she said, cutting me off, "there will be waltzing."

At that, I stalled, my excuses caught in my throat.

She smiled from the doorway, then walked away.

I turned back to the mask, picked it up, brought it to my face and checked my reflection in the computer screen.

"Besides, there will be waltzing," I said in my best Carmilla voice.

Wait, I thought. Was she talking about waltzing? Or, waltzing-waltzing!?

I threw the mask back into the box and closed the lid, smiling like an idiot.

Best. Christmas. Present. Ever.