Title: Cocoa and Mistletoe
Chapter: Sugar Cookies and Mall Crowds
Rating: T / PG-13
Summary: Phone calls are answered and plans are made.
Warning: Not BETA'd!
Disclaimer: I got nothing. No, I don't own anything.
So delicious (it's hot, hot)
So delicious (I put them boys on rock, rock)
So delicious (they wanna slice of what I got)
I'm Fergalicious (t-t-t-t-t-tasty, tasty)
Emily's eyes opened at the sound of her cell-phone's familiar ring. Not lifting her head, she glanced at the clock mounted on her bedroom wall. It was still before noon.
What in the heck could Casey want at this hour? Didn't she know vacations were for catching up on your beauty sleep?
Rolling over she grabbed the small device off her night stand, simultaneously unplugging it from the charger it had been hooked to since she'd gone to bed. After reading the small screen and not recognizing the number, she put the phone back in its place on the night stand. It was much too early to be dealing with wrong numbers.
Snuggling back down into her warm covers, she was ready to drift back off to sleep when the familiar beep of a text-message having been received stopped her. Groaning, she grabbed her phone again and in the dim light beneath her cover she read the message.
NOT TECHNICALLY A CALL.
Confused, she stared at the small screen, but suddenly the phone beeped.
ITS TREVOR BTW.
Smiling, she threw off her cover and used her thumb to message him back.
FYI MOST NORMAL PEOPLE ARE ASLEEP.
She laughed at her response, before jumping at the loud ring of her phone.
So delicious (it's hot, hot)
So delicious (I put them boys on rock, rock)
""I'm not normal," he said.
"Right about that. You actually called when you said you would. Most boys just leave you hanging for a couple of days and if you dare to actually call them suddenly you're a stalker."
"Well, I'm not most boys," he said, laughing. "Besides, you can stalk me all you want."
Emily ignored his last comment, but she didn't stop the smile that tugged at her lips. "What is that supposed to mean? You're not like most boys."
She heard him snort on the other end of the phone. "Well, not the ass-holes you date."
"Well, maybe you should change that," she said, biting into her lip.
The pause was long and despite the fact that she couldn't see his reaction it didn't stop her face from growing hot or curb her urge to squirm.
"So what're you doing?" he asked, his voice sounding flat.
"At the moment, laying in bed in my pajamas," she yawned, sitting up and stretching her free arm.
"It's nine-thirty," he said, factually.
"Oh, please tell me you're not a morning person," she said, squeezing her eyes shut as she leaned against her headboard.
"I'd be lying."
She giggled. "Okay, why didn't you date Casey, again?"
He didn't answer and Emily had that odd sensation that she had said the wrong thing. Blinking, she pulled her knees up to her chest and slipped her fingers beneath the hem of her pajamas and scratched her now itching shin.
He made a noise that sounded like he was clearing his throat. "So, what're you doing today?"
"I'm probably just going to sit around and watch Casey wrap presents or something."
"All day?"
"Yeah, she's got this like a colour-coded system thing. It's weird."
"I'm not disagreeing."
"Why'd you want to know? What's up?"
"Well, you're a girl."
"Yeah, last time I checked."
"I wasn't asking."
"Good, I was kinda hoping that you'd noticed."
He didn't say anything for a moment, but made another weird noise.
"Well, I mean . . . If you're doing something with Space don't worry about it."
"C'mon Trevor, first you ask me if I'm a girl and then you tell me- Wait, did you just call Casey, Space?"
"Yeah, sorry about that. It's kind of a habit."
She laughed. "Don't be sorry, just tell me what you need. It's the least I can do after last night."
"Nah, don't worry about it."
"Tell me or I'll just keep asking."
He sighed. "All right, I need to go and pick up my stepsister's Christmas present and I have absolutely no idea, what to buy a nine-year-old Kelly Clarkson wanna-be."
"Okay."
"So, do you want to ride to the mall? I mean . . . If you don't want to that's cool too."
"Sure,"
"You don't have to."
"No, I want to. I just don't think you're as smart as I thought you were."
He scoffed. "What?"
"Waiting 'til Christmas Eve to go shopping. Not a very smart move, Adolfo."
"Yeah, well at least I've never . . . " His voice trailed off, but she had already caught the superior note that she'd heard him use with other people before. She was suddenly very annoyed.
"At least I've never what Trevor?" she asked earnestly, turning on her bed and adjusting her phone against her opposite ear.
He didn't answer and she had a sneaking suspicion that he had been referring to what happened between her and Peter 'Put-out or Get-out' Potter.
"Well, c'mon 'Mister I only speak if it's worth saying'?" she demanded, through a deceptively sweet voice.
"Nothing," he said softly. Her sudden irritation dissipated faster than it had grown, but she could still feel the humiliation burning in her cheeks.
"So, what time did you want to go?"she asked.
"I don't know. I don't hang out at the mall that much but I guess the earlier the better, right."
"Yeah, but I gotta get ready first,"she said, her eyes superstitiously moving toward her closet.
"So, I"ll pick you up in two hours."
"How long do you think it takes me to get ready?"
"You said you were a girl right?" he said flatly.
Emily narrowed her eyes. "I'll see you in an hour."
"Wow, an hour," he said dryly. "I didn't know you were 'The Flash'?"
"The who?" she asked, giggling and feeling her eyebrows knit.
"Nobody," he answered, lightly. "I'll see you when I see you, Emily,"
"Bye Trevor," she said, shaking her head.
"Bye," he said.
No matter how hard she tried Emily couldn't stop smiling. It took her longer than she had thought to get ready, the hot-water had run out quickly and she'd been forced to endure a cold shower, but mostly she couldn't choose which red sweater to wear. After having finally decided on an appropriate outfit, she couldn't get her makeup just right, her eyeshadow continued to smudge together in a light-grey and green mess beneath her eyebrows. Two ruined make-up sponges later she was finally satisfied with her appearance.
Downstairs she searched the house for her mother and oddly enough found the older Davis woman in the kitchen baking. Dozens and dozens of cookie lined pans decorated their kitchen counters and dining room table.
"Did I miss something?" she asked, grabbing her pink coat off the chair where she left it and looking around at the dozens of plain sugar cookies.
"Yes, your grandmother called and apparently your father's family will be here by this afternoon, "she said, using her thin spatula and prying up another cookie before setting it carefully on the festive plate.
Emily quickly noted the undertone in her mother's words and nearly took a step back at her cold voice. She wasn't happy. "Why?" she asked.
"I don't know," she snapped, using the back of her flour coated hand to wipe a thick lock of hair away from her forehead.
"Well, is there anything I can do before I go to the mall?" she asked, putting her heavy coat back on the chair.
Her mother gave her an odd but genuine smile and Emily had no doubt that she had suddenly said the wrong thing.
Emily's forearms were burning from stirring the thick cookie dough when her phone began vibrating against the wooden table. Wiping her hands against the seasonal dishtowel her mother had handed her earlier, she quickly snatched up her phone and put the device to her ear.
"Ready yet?" Trevor asked, his voice a little distant.
"Yeah, where are you?"
"About two minutes from your house," he answered. "Do you want me to come up to the door or just slow the car down and you can jump in?"
Emily laughed at his question, but suddenly it sobered her and her smile fell. If Trevor came to the door than she would have to introduce him to her mother. It would be the only thing to do there was no getting around it.
"Um, you can just park in the front I'll be out in like a second," she answered, an unpleasant feeling beginning to gnaw painfully at the ends of her conscious.
"Okay," he said slowly, as if the question had been rhetorical or that he'd been expecting a different answer. His voice made the gnawing worse. She felt like an ungrateful bitch. "I'll be in my mom's car."
"'Kay," she answered, grabbing her coat off the end of the chair. "I'll see you in a sec."
Closing her phone, Emily turned to her mother.
His mother's SUV was much larger than his sister's tiny VW and it had taken Emily two attempts before she'd been able to pull herself into the black car. She quickly unwrapped her scarf and unbuttoned her peacoat as she settled into the seat inside the warm car.
She could feel his dark eyes watching her, but she ignored him as she snapped the safety belt into place. He was dressed very much the same as he had been the night before, minus the scarf and the fact that his hair now looked like as if it had been fixed. Unable to ignore him any longer, she turned to face him.
"What?" she asked, giving him an inquisitive smile.
"Were you cooking?" he asked, his black brows knitted.
"Yeah, my mom suckered me into helping her," she said, giving a slight snort. "How d'you know?"
"You kinda smell . . . Sugary . . . Like cookies," he answered, checking the street ahead and then his rearview mirrors, before pulling out into the street.
"Dammit. Really?"she asked, grabbing the collar of her red sweater and taking a deep breath. Trevor was right that odor had seeped into her clothes. Sighing, she let the v-neck collar of her sweater fall back against her chest. She didn't want to smell like cookies. Five-year-olds with milk mustaches smelled like cookies, not confident seventeen-year-old women trying to smell nice.
He laughed. "Yeah, but I mean . . . It smells good. It just . . . "
"Just what?" she said, crossing her arms as he turned onto the main street and let the steering wheel slip beneath his gloved fingers.
"It's just kind of making me hungry," he said, giving her a half-smile before his eyes darted back to the road.
"Well, you can eat a pretzel when we get to the mall," she said, giving him a smile.
"Sounds tasty," he said dryly, shaking his head.
Emily laughed more at his naivete than his sense of humour. "Well, you better grow to like it because we'll probably be waiting in a line 'til dinner."
He gave her a look of pure shock and horror before staring back at the road. He sighed.
"At least I like the company," he mumbled, before turning the volume up and filling the car with his own version of Holiday classics. Emily smiled, staring out at the snow-covered lawns as they past by. This music was really starting to grow on her.
TBC...
Thank you for reading.
A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short and a wee bit on the boring side, but I'm hoping that the next chapter is out soon and a wee bit longer. Special thanks to soulmatesDC because she can really get my muse to dance when it comes to this story. Again, thank you for reading and a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed. Words equal encouragement! ; )
