I feel it in my fingers,
I feel it in my toes,
Christmas is all around me,
and so the feeling grows

Layla strolled down the sidewalk, oblivious to anything that Will was saying. Though they dated briefly their freshman year, their friendship remained intact when they broke up, and he was chattering nonstop about a new girl he fancied.

"Earth to Layla," Will said, waving a hand in front of her face.

She smiled. "I love this time of year. Don't you? The air is crisp, Christmas decorations are everywhere, and people are generally nicer. Merry Christmas!" she said cheerily to a man as he passed. He scowled at her.

"Well, nicer as a whole," she amended, shaking her head.

"We've got to do something special this year. Next year who knows where we'll all be for Christmas," she said, unable to keep the sadness from her voice. She recovered almost instantly. "Oh! I know. Let's have a big, extravagant party! We can have decorations and lights, and everyone can dress up…"

Will looked at her blankly. "And so it begins," he said under his breath as Layla rattled off ideas for her Christmas party.

Every year Layla went all out for Christmas. She was getting a late start this year, as it was already the 10th of December. Usually her Christmas spirit reared its festive head the day after Thanksgiving. His thoughts were interrupted when Layla suddenly stopped walking. Will looked up to see the sign for the Paper Lantern.

"Ooh, come on. Let's go tell Warren. I'm sure he'll want to help with the party!" Layla said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him along behind her.

As they passed the front window, Will caught a glimpse of his best friend's stormy expression as he cleared a table. This was going to be the equivalent of Mrs. Claus --vs-- the Heat Mizer.

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch.
You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus,
You're as charming as an eel.
Mr. Grinch.

Warren clenched his jaw as tinny music leaked from an overhead speaker. Mrs. Cho insisted on playing Christmas music nonstop throughout the holiday season, and if he heard The Little Drummer Boy one more time, he was going kick someone's per-um pum pum pum.

He spotted Will and the hippie coming through the door and braced himself. Will's droll expression mixed with Layla's eager one most likely meant that the Christmas queen was back on the loose. He sat his tub on the table as they approached.

"Hey, how's it goin'?" Will asked, slapping Warren's hand in a "guy-greeting". The taller boy shrugged.

"It's going I guess. What are you so happy about?" he asked Layla.

Layla smiled up at him, and pointed at the speaker. "Don't you just LOVE Christmas?"

"More than life itself," Warren deadpanned.

Layla rolled her eyes but kept her smile in place. "So, Will and I decided to have a Christmas party."

Warren's eyes flicked over to Will who was vehemently shaking his head as Layla continued.

"But Will's got all the jock stuff after school and extra training on the weekends."

"Uh-huh. And you felt the urgent need to tell me this why?"

"Because, I am recruiting you to help me with the party plans," Layla said with a nod.

"Oh, I don't even think so," Warren said, picking up his tub.

He had barely taken a step when Layla started after him. "Oh, come on Warren! When is the last time we just hung out and did stuff together? It'd be fun."

She stopped and waited outside the kitchen door and glanced back at Will, who was flirting with one of the waitresses. Stepping back so that the door wouldn't hit her as it swung open, she ignored her friend's annoyed groan and followed fast on his heels.

"Please? I promise not to be bossy." She bit her lip and took hold of his arm, pulling him to a stop.

Warren turned to face her. "Hippie, the whole Christmas thing isn't really my scene," he said.

"This is our last Christmas all together. What better time to start being Christmassy," Layla said. "In May we graduate and from then…who knows? I'll tell you what," she said as she unconsciously stepped closer to him. "I'll get everything together and plan it myself, but you have to come. Deal?"

Warren sighed as he looked into her hopeful eyes. "Ok. Maybe," he said. He cleared his throat and stepped around her. "But I'm not making any promises," he called over his shoulder.

When it snows, ain't it thrilling
Though your nose gets a chilling
We'll frolic and play
The Eskimo way
Walking in a Winter Wonderland

One Week until Christmas Eve

"Hi, Warren, it's Layla again. Just wanted to remind you that the party is in one week. I'll talk to you later, bye."

Layla lay across her bed, sorting through swatches of fabric trying to choose the right one for the drapes for the party. Magenta eyed her friend curiously. She had seen her in full-on Christmas mode for several years now, but never quite this much.

"So what's the deal with that?" Magenta asked.

"The deal with what?"

"With you calling Warren every five minutes to remind him about the party. I doubt he's going to come."

"I don't know," Layla admitted. "I just want him to have a good Christmas this year. His mom is going to be in Greece for another couple of weeks, so he's going to be all alone."

"Yeah, but he likes it that way," Magenta reminded her.

"Sometimes I wonder if he really does." Sitting up on the bed, she got back to the business at hand. "Did Zach finish the outside lights? Pick which one of those you like best," she said, pointing to the swatches as she picked up the phone and dialed Zach's number.

An hour later, after Magenta threatened to go on strike, the two girls went for a walk. It had snowed several times over the past week, giving a nice blanket over the ground. Younger kids made snowmen in the park.

"Hey look, there's the guys," Magenta said.

Will, Zach, and Ethan ducked behind various objects as they hurled snowballs at each other. Warren sat watching from a bench a few feet away.

"Too good for a snowball fight?" Layla said, plopping down next to him.

A small smile tilted the corners of his mouth upwards. "Snow and fire don't really work that well. I thought you were supposed to be smart."

Layla poked him in the ribs, laughing when he jumped and tucked his arm down by his sides.

"Oh ho ho…ticklish are we?"

He shook his head and stood, eyeing her warily as she stood also. "Don't even think about it, hippie."

"Yeah," Magenta said, going to join the others in their snowball battle. "You're playing with fire." She gave two quick barks of laughter before picking up a chunk of snow and pelting Zach in the back of the head.

Tucking her tongue between her teeth, Layla stepped forward. Warren stepped back. "Running away?" she asked, arching a brow.

Warren stared at her stonily, but she wasn't deterred. She bent to pick up a snowball, but Warren was faster and as she straightened, she got a chest full of snow.

"Oh, you are SO going to pay for that!" She charged with a laugh and he turned, grinning, and ran. They ran along the sidewalk, down the hill. Warren disappeared behind the wooden fort in the playground. Layla gathered more snow and crept around the fort. Warren was nowhere to be seen.

She turned and let out a shriek as she was tackled into a snowbank. She laughed, scampering quickly to sit on Warren's stomach and giving him a face full of snow.

It melted quickly, leaving tiny beads of water trickling down his cheeks and clinging to his eyelashes. A few stray locks of hair stuck to his forehead. To Layla, he was beautiful.

She heard a sizzling sound and pried her gaze away from his. The snow around them was melting, leaving a steaming body-shaped hole in the snowbank.

"You should probably get off me now," Warren said, the words coming out sharper than he intended.

"Oh…oh, sorry." Layla rose quickly, cheeks flushing, and reached down to help him up. He ignored her hand and stood, tossing his dark hair away from his face.

She started walking back up the hill. "Are you coming?" she asked, but he shook his head.

"Nah, I gotta go." He gave a little wave. "Later."

"Bye," Layla said quietly, watching him walk away…

Like always.

I'm growing tired of all this Christmas cheer
You people scare me
Please stay away from my home
If you don't want to get beat down
Just leave the presents and then leave me alone

Christmas Eve

6 Hours until Party Time

Magenta, Zach, Will, and Ethan sat in a sleepy semi-circle around a marker board as Layla designated instructions. She paced back and forth in front of the board, pointing with her ruler as though she were some great Colonel on the Christmas frontlines. I love the smell of eggnog in the morning…

"Ok, so the lights and decorations are taken care of. Everyone has his or her semi-formal wear, correct? The catering is done, they are set to arrive in a few hours…Ok, I think that's it. Oh, Will, did you and Ethan get the tree? We'll need to bring that in and get it set up, and then I think we'll be done."

"Yeeah, about that. See, the uh, tree lot is right across from Mason's and you know how Mason's has like, the best—"

"Will!" Layla barked, tilting her head to the side and narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "Where is the tree?"

"I haven't gotten one yet," Will said, shrinking back in fear.

"You what?! Will, this is a Christmas party! The single most important thing at a Christmas party, aside from a band playing Christmas music, is the tree!"

She swung her gaze over to Ethan, who promptly puddled.

"Can't you just like, grow a tree?" Zach asked.

"I didn't want to just grow a tree," Layla said, pressing her fingertips to her forehead. "Normal people don't just grow Christmas trees. I wanted an honest to God, green, farm grown Christmas tree."

She took a deep breath and straightened, reaching up to flip the ball on the tip of her Santa's hat back over her head. "It's fine," she said, her voice falsely nice. "Magenta, if you don't mind taking over here, I'll just swing on down and pick up a tree."

3 Hours until Party Time

After five tree lots, she still had nothing. All that was left on Christmas Eve were raggedy little treelets that made Charlie Brown's tree look like a mighty redwood. She drove around town for a while before finding herself in the parking lot of the Paper Lantern.

She hadn't had much time to talk to Warren since the day at the park. Maybe he could make her feel better.

She went in and sat down at a booth.

"Are you actually eating today?" Mrs. Cho asked as she brought her some water.

Layla shook her head and gave a small smile, eyeing the beautifully decorated fir tree in the corner.

"I'll go get your boy for you." Mrs. Cho patted her shoulder as she walked back to the kitchen.

Warren came to the table and tossed his dishtowel down. "I'm a little busy, Layla. What do you want?"

Layla jerked out of her Christmas tree induced trance. A bit taken aback by his hostility, she stumbled out a greeting. He sat, looking completely uninterested as she told him about the tree crisis and everyone else's lack of motivation.

"But you're still coming, right? It is going to be really nice. Show some Christmas spirit," she said with a sad little smile.

"Alright look, I'm gonna just lay this all out for you, and maybe next year you'll avoid all the stress. You are like the Christmas Nazi, driving everyone insane while trying to have the perfect Christmas. 'Christmas spirit'," he said with air quotations, "was a valuable thing back when Bing Crosby was king of Christmas. Nowadays, people don't believe in anything. Sniveling kids whining about how they didn't get the right Xbox game, that's the reality of the holiday. There's no Santa, no reindeer…"

He stopped and looked at her, sighing. Her chocolate eyes were brimming with tears. He hadn't meant to make her cry.

"Layla, I…"

"Thanks for the talk, Warren. Helpful as always," Layla said, gathering her things quickly before her tears spilled over. "Guess I won't see you tonight. Maybe tomorrow." She scooted out of the booth and headed for the door. The cold wind met her like a slap in the face as she walked down the sidewalk.

She'd been so stupid to think that he—the characteristically broody and unreceptive Warren Peace—would consider going to a stupid, feel-good Christmas party. Even though the only reason she pushed so hard for it to be nice was for him, so he wouldn't feel so alone. Maybe Magenta was right. Maybe he liked being alone. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, disgusted with herself as tears slid down her cheeks.

"Layla," Warren called, catching her by the wrist. He felt like seven kinds of hell for making her cry.

"Listen, I'm sorry I've been such an ass. I just…I hate this time of year," he scowled as a family walked along, looking at the lights and laughing together.

"Look, just forget what I said earlier, because you thrive in this happy-go-lucky crap," he said with a small grin. He sighed, reaching out to lightly brush tears from her cheeks with the pads of his fingers.

"Go to your party. Dance and have a good time. You know I'd love to come, but what with going caroling and heading the Christmas pageant, I'm kinda booked."

Layla smiled and sniffed. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, holding him tight. Snow fell softly around them. Heaving a shaky breath, Layla let him go and waved her hands in the air.

"Sorry I fell apart on you. My emotions go all crazy in the winter." The courthouse clock chimed and Layla gasped. "Oh my gosh! I've got to go! I've still got to see about a tree!"

He watched her bound away, good spirits restored and marveled at the manic personality that was Layla.

The tree lots were totally sold out of any good trees. He knew, because he had to track down a decent tree for Mrs. Cho. A crooked grin split his face as he flipped his towel over his shoulder and went back inside.

"Mrs. Cho, I've got a favor to ask…"

30 Minutes until Party Time

Layla finished weaving the holly leaves into her hair and stepped back to look at herself. Her pine green dress shimmered in the light. Her auburn hair was stacked and curled with bits of holly woven here and there.

"Layla, come on! Let's get this show on the road!" Magenta called from down stairs.

She gathered her skirt, careful of the split that came to her thigh and descended the stairs. "Oo-la la," she said with a grin as she spotted Magenta. Her black dress fell to just above her knees in the front and tapered down to sweep the floor in the back. The boys looked great too, all in nice tuxedos with red or white—or in Zach's case, red, green and white—ties.

They made their way to the backyard greenhouse where the party would be held. There were already a few people scattered around, drinking eggnog and looking at the decorations. She noticed how Will, Magenta, Zach, and Ethan all turned to smile at her as they entered.

"What?" she asked as she came through the doorway. She gasped as she saw the tree front and center. A beautifully full fir tree, decorated tastefully sparse with lights and tinsel icicles.

"Where did you guys find the tree?!" Layla squealed, hugging her friends.

"Warren brought it. He said Mrs. Cho was getting rid of this one since they weren't going to be open tomorrow anyway, so he figured we could use it."

"That…is so…" The soft smile slowly left her lips as her eyebrows furrowed. "So…Warren." She spun, hands on her hips, to look at the others.

"Isn't that just SO like him? He doesn't like anything, especially Christmas," she said shaking her head. "Then suddenly he's like 'oh hey, I pulled this fantastic Christmas tree just right out of my butt. Here ya go, add that to your confusion.' And we're left wondering why he chooses to be so antisocial most of the time. Wondering if right now he's at home by himself, wishing he had someone to spend Christmas Eve with and why he didn't just stay with us."

The others stared at her, mouths agape at her sudden outburst.

"Weeell, I will tell you one thing," she continued. "I am NOT going to sit here and dwell all night on him and his issues. It's Christmas. You know? Is it too much to ask that one day a year, I can be like a normal human being with a normal life, and have a merry Christmas?!"

She turned and stalked toward the punch bowl, downing a glass of eggnog as if it were a shot of bourbon.

"What…just happened?" Will asked, perplexed.

"That, my dear boys, is what we call a 'stunning revelation'. She just realized she's in love with Warren," Magenta said, taking a mini-quiche from a passing tray.

"You mean it's taken her this long to figure it out?" Will asked.

"Yup."

"Man…" Zach said, shaking his head as he watched Layla scowl at the tree. "Even I knew that."

Ethan held up a five dollar bill. "Any takers on whether or not she stays at the party?"

"I say she's gone within the hour," Magenta said.

"Hey, great party," Will said as he leaned against the wall beside Layla.

"You did just as much as I did," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but you put it together." Silence stretched between them. "So it's almost 8."

"Yeah," Layla said.

"You can still catch Warren at the Lantern if you leave now."

"W-what?!" She scoffed and shook her head. "Please."

"Come on. You know you love him. Especially after that," he said, indicating the tree.

She fidgeted with her cookies before letting her head fall back against the wall. "What am I, like a freaking book? Can't I hide my emotions at all?" She cut her eyes at Will. "How'd you know?"

"Well, I'd say the first thing that tipped me off was the fact that you've been glaring holes in that tree for the last forty-five minutes. But that's just me," he said, laughing when she swatted his arm.

"The Lantern closed early. He'd be at his house anyway."

"So are you going?" Will asked, pinching off a piece of her cookie.

"You know what? I am," she said, thrusting her plate and cup at him. "I am, and I'm going to let the dookers hit the fan."

Will nodded, drinking from her cup to hide his laugh. Layla wasn't big on swearing, and some of the words she substituted were interesting to say the least.

"I mean it. He won't know what hit him."

"Well sure. And he deserves every bit of it."

"He does." She gave a nod and kissed his cheek.

"Give him hell, Layla," Will called, popping a cookie in his mouth as she stormed across the greenhouse and out into the night. He held out his hand, accepting Magenta's high five as she grinned right along with him.

And then I guess I must have snapped
Because I grabbed the baseball bat
And made them all run for shelter
It's Christmas time, again

Warren lay on the sofa, half awake and watching one of the Rankin-Bass movies. He had changed into his pajama bottoms but hadn't bothered with a shirt since it was so warm in his apartment.

He heard a knock at his door and glanced at the clock. It was 8:30. Who'd be knocking at his door at 8:30 on Christmas Eve?

"Yeah, just a second," he called, switching off the TV. He looked through the peephole then nudged his cat out of the way as he opened the door.

"Layla? What are you—"

Without a word, she pushed past him and entered the apartment. She bent and petted Hamilton, receiving a pleasant meow for her efforts.

Warren eyed her as she straightened. She looked amazing in the deep green dress, with her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed.

"I figured you'd still be at the par—"

"Shut up," she said, holding up her hand. "I've got a bone to pick with you, Warren."

Warren arched a brow and crossed his arms. She'd never used that tone before. He watched her as she paced the space between his counter and his couch. She was really worked up.

"You want to sit down?"

"No, I don't want to sit down. You sit down," she said.

"Watch it, hippie. I'm not big on people telling me what to do."

"You aren't big on people, period. That's your problem. Let me tell you something," she said, pointing at him as she stalked forward, twitching her skirt with every step. "I busted my ass on that party. I even had friggin' mistletoe. Me and the guys worked hard on every minute detail, and you didn't even give a big enough damn to show up."

Warren's eyebrows raised at her language. "I had to work."

"Bull. You would have had to come out of your hole in order to interact with people," she said, her voice venomous. "I get that you hate Christmas. Lots of people do. Therefore, I try to make Christmas enjoyable for people. I don't mean to drive them insane, as you so gently pointed out earlier that I do. I just hate to see people sad. Especially people I love."

While she waited for him to deal with that tidbit of information, she kicked off her silver heels and planted her hands on her hips, glaring up at him.

Warren hadn't realized he'd been backing up against her surprise onslaught until his back hit the wall.

"Oh, so I'm supposed to just forget that this time of year has never been anything but miserable for me just so you can make me your charity case? I don't think so Layla."

"Jesus! Do you ever listen?! I said I love you, you big idiot!"

"You love everyone, hippie," Warren said, his own temper spiking defensively. "It's what you do. It goes with your—"

His sentence dropped as Layla stretched and took hold of his neck, bringing his mouth down to hers. He tried to pull back, but she held on. Her lips brushed his and she brought a hand to rest on his jaw, her thumb gently stroking his cheek.

Warren held out for as long as he could—approximately 3 seconds. He'd never had much control where Layla was concerned. He gripped her hips and drew her body flush against his, the soft velvet on the bodice of her dress rubbing deliciously on the bare skin of his chest.

She sighed, opening her mouth to his entreating tongue. She dropped her hand from his cheek to rest on his shoulder, then let it continue to join her other hand in perusing the sculpted planes of his chest and torso.

The material of her dress bunched in Warren's hands as his fingers curled to fists. He did not want Layla to get involved with someone like him. She deserved better.

Mustering all his resolve, he pushed her away and slipped from between her and the wall.

"What's wrong?" She asked, leaning against the wall. She nibbled her lip nervously and her cheeks were flushed, but she met his eyes with a steady gaze.

"I can do without the sympathy screw, thanks. Peddle it somewhere else," he said, being deliberately hateful so she'd leave.

He moved to turn away from her, but she grabbed his upper arm and jerked him back to face her, striking out to slap him across the cheek. Layla gasped, surprised at herself.

He took a deep breath and slowly turned his face back to her. A lock of hair had pulled loose from his hair tie and fell across his face, partially shading his features. Flames danced in the black pools of his eyes as he tried to reign in his temper.

She faced him, chin up and unafraid. Tears brought on by anger sparkled in her eyes.

"Not the wisest thing you've ever done, hippie," he said menacingly.

"How could you say something like that to me? To me? I've never done anything hurtful to you."

He stepped toward her, but she didn't back down. With a shouted curse, he shoved a small coffee table across the room. In the low light of the living room, Layla could see two smoldering handprints where he had touched it.

Warren inclined his head to the charred table. "Is that what you want? Huh?" he demanded, slowly coming forward. "Someone who can't control themselves?"

"Yes!" she said, throwing her hands in the air. "I want that, because I want you! Every aspect of your character makes you you. And damn it, it is high time I am able to decide for myself who and what I want!"

Warren cooled a bit and looked down at his hands, rubbing his fingertips. When he raised his eyes back to hers, his voice was much quieter.

"I still hear it all the time. 'Watch out for that Warren Peace. You never know what he might do.' There's a big chance that I'll go villain eventually. Is that the kind of guy you want to give yourself to?"

"You aren't that kind of guy," Layla said quietly. He gave a humorless scoff and turned away, shaking his head at her naiveté .

"No, Warren, listen to me. When I think back over the past four years, do you know what I remember? You. As amazing as it is that I haven't acknowledged it before, every good memory I have has you in it." She offered him a small smile.

"Yes, people talk about you. But they talk about me too. Everyone talks about everyone else; it's just the way the world works. But you won't go villain. You are a good man, Warren Peace." She cautiously laid a hand on his shoulder blade, feeling the muscles beneath tense instantly.

"Besides, you've got too many people who care about you to let that happen," she said.

Her voice worked over him like a balm, ridding him of his anger and soothing the fire that blazed within him.

"I'm sorry," he said. He turned his head and looked at her. "For earlier, I mean. And for not coming to your party." He looked at her shining eyes and small smile and felt his own lips curving. "Ah, hell, I'm sorry for every crappy remark I've said to you this month, alright? But don't get too full of yourself, hippie."

"Isn't it amazing how we can never stay upset with each other?" Layla asked, smiling broadly. She reached out and gently brushed her fingers over the reddened skin of his cheek and grimaced. "I'm so sorry. I've never hit anyone before really."

He took her hand away and gave her a wry smile. "Nice job. But hey, I deserved it. We'll just count this as your Get Out of Jail Free card."

"Good," she said, dimples flashing as she smiled again.

Warren walked over to set right the overturned table. "Do you want anything?" he asked. "Like a coke or something?"

He heard her dress rustle and looked back. "Layla…" he said warningly.

She reached around her back and was busy working the zipper of her dress. She tossed him a cheeky grin. "Shut your face, hothead. You asked if I wanted anything. Well this is it. This is what I want."

Several hours later, after they had finally made it to his bed, Warren watched Layla as she slept. The clock in the kitchen struck midnight and he kissed the tip of her nose in a very un-Warren-like manor.

"Merry Christmas hippie," he whispered, draping one arm over his eyes and laying his head down. He was almost asleep when he heard Layla's sleepy mumble.

"I heard that, just so you know."

He lifted his arm and glared at her, but she just smiled sleepily and curled closer to him. "Don't you just love this time of year?"