Wednesday, December 17, 2014 - Eight Days Until Christmas

...

"Iiiiiiiiit's Humpday!" I sang to Shannon and Andrea as I walked up to my locker. Shannon snorted.

"Do you have to do that every single Wednesday?" she asked, amused.

"Every what day?"

"Oh, good Lord."

Andrea laughed at our antics as I opened my locker, humming "What Child is This?"

"So, I have a rehearsal for the Nutcracker later, but I'm free after five, and I was thinking we should go see if Flo wants any help baking cookies," I suggested to my friends. They both nodded, Shannon's eyes wide.

"Cookies need sugar, right?" she asked in a dazed voice.

"Well, duh."

"Sugar... Sugar... SUGAR..." she moaned, staring off into space with visions of sugar plums dancing in her head. I snorted at the thought.

Shannon continued to fawn over sugar for another minutes until people started to stare. Andrea facepalmed and grabbed Shannon's shoulders. "Shannon! Snap out of it!" she shrieked, getting some laughs from the small crowd. Shannon blinked and shook herself out of her stupor, then noticed the small crowd.

"Hey! Scram! Don't y'all know it's impolite to stare?" she called, and the crowd dispersed. I rolled my eyes.

"Didn't you know it's impolite to yell?" I retorted in defense of the students.

"You really think I care?"

I sniggered at her as I bid my two friends good-bye and headed for my first class - Art. Ugh. I hated art. I could not draw, paint, sculpt, or do anything artistic with my hands. I knew in my creative little head what I wanted to come out on the paper or in the clay, but it always ends up looking like a... something it's not supposed to be. I'm much better at dancing, singing, and occasionally writing. Oh, and I can throw things. I was the pitcher on my softball team last summer, but heaven knows I can't catch anything, or hit anything with a bat or stick. I suck at all athletic things, except for throwing small things. My gym teacher and I hate each other, except for when we play softball. Then, I'm her favorite student.

I'll shut up now.

...

The lights turned on as the music started. I started in first position, where my feet are pointed outwards with my heels touching and my arms are rounded downwards, with my head also bent down, but as the music went "bum" for the fifth time, it snapped up and I looked up at the empty auditorium with a bright smile on my face. Sorry if that stunk, that's the only way I can describe it. As more instruments joined whatever it was that started the song (maybe the piano?), I rose up onto my tip toes in unison with my class. I pushed my feet outwards and then pulled them back together, landing with my left foot in front of my right, in an echappe, then repeated it, but with my right foot landing in front this time. For all you dancers, I repeated the echappes, then bourreed into a triangle with the rest of my class, did a sous sous to the right, two arabesques, and a bunch more stuff. For all you non-dancers who have no idea what the heck I just said, I did a bunch of pretty ballerina things of the tips of my toes.

The song ended before I knew it, and I struck our ending pose, where we rose up in fifth position with our arms in fourth position. Again for you non-dancers, I struck a pretty ballerina pose. The lights dimmed, and my class trotted offstage as the next class silently took their places on the dark stage.

I smoothed my sparkley fuchsia tutu in the dark as I headed backstage. My costume was composed of a fuchsia leotard that had some rhinestones making a sort of triangle on the front of the leotard. The fabric the rhinestones were on was a darker purple than the rest of the costume, about the color of Holley's Jaguar. Then there was the tutu. The top layers was about the same color as the leotard, but the ruffles on the bottom layers were a lighter pink, and longer than the top layers. We wore white tights and obviously our pink pointe shoes. I loved the costume, but our tutu was so big and stiff, I felt like a walking table or something. I could have done my homework on that tutu.

I already knew the finale, when is when all the dancers come out and take a bow, so I just packed my pointe shoes away, put on a coat and my classic black Converse, and walked to the lobby, where I met Doc sitting on a bench. "Hi, Doc," I greeted him, smiling.

"Hey, how was it?"

"Good enough. I could probably have pointed my toes some more and put more passion in it, but I'll just remember that for show night. Oh, and I almost twisted my ankle when I slipped a bit doing an echappe."

"I don't see how you can point your toes at all in those," Doc said, motioning to the toe shoes in my bag. "Or do anything, really."

I giggled a bit at this as we walked out of the school and into the brisk winter breeze. I wished I had put on some jeans, even though that'd look pretty stupid with my huge tutu. Oh, well. "It's easy once you get used to it. Kind of."

"Must be a hard thing to get used to," Doc commented as he pulled out the keys to the Hudson Hornet. I still found it ironic that Doc had bought a car with his last name in it's own name... Maybe that's why he liked it. It was a cool car.

"Yeah. Pretty painful, but definitely worth it," I reasoned as Doc unlocked the car and I hopped in, expecting warmth as I scrunched my tutu up (it'd be wrinkly once I got out, but I didn't care - I'd just smooth it out). However, that was not what I received, as the car had been sitting out in the forty degrees weather for quite some time. For you people who live in colder climates, like Alaska, I know that doesn't sound like much, but here in the dessert, it's almost cold enough to cause a mass panic. If we had some snow, there would probably be an evacuation. No, I'm joking... Kind of.

Doc and I rode in a thoughtful silence on the way home, where I got changed out of my fancy dress and into a pair of heavily worn but comfortable jeans and a white hoodie with "Areopostale" written in pink cursive on the front. I then walked over to Flo's warm cafe, hoping she wouldn't be too busy so maybe Andrea, Shannon, and I could make some Christmas cookies with her. Nothing says "It's Christmas!" more than a sugar rush, except maybe... No, nothing says "It's Christmas!" more than a sugar rush. It's final, don't argue.

Thankfully, Flo's cafe was almost empty, except for two couples I didn't recognize (after years of knowing everyone in Radiator Springs, it still took me aback whenever I walk upon someone in my town whom's name I didn't know) and my two best friends, who were chatting in the same booth I had seen them in on Sunday morning. I walked over to them, smiling.

"Hey, guys," I greeted them. Shannon looked up at me, and she look slightly amused look when she spotted me. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Have you looked in a mirror recently?" she asked. I frowned and my hand jumped to my hair, and realization hit me. I hadn't taken my hair out of my bun or washed my face off after the rehearsal. I was still in my show make-up.

"Oooh. Dang it," I muttered, blushing. I'm not one of those girls who go walking around in make-up in the first place, but show make-up? Ugh. Even worse. I had blush, dark eye-shadow, and mascara on, which was a lot more than normal for me. I generally don't bother with make-up, so I guess you could say I'm something of a tomboy.

"No, it's fine, you look great," Andrea reassured me, and I smiled at her sweetness.

"I'll be right back, I want to get this stuff off," I said, and before either girl could reply, I turned around and jogged out the door, back to my house.

"Did you forget something?" Doc called when I walked through the door, slamming it behind me.

"My normal face," I hollered back.

"What?"

"I forgot to wash my make-up off and take my hair out of it's bun," I explained as I strode into my room, heading for the bathroom sink. I washed my make-up off and took the fake hair scrunchie out from around my bun, but left the bun in place. Hair was supposed to be up when you bake, anyway. I headed back to Flo's, bidding Doc good-bye again.

I reentered the restaurant to see Flo chatting with Andrea and Shannon, and I had a good idea of what they were talking about. My suspicions were confirmed when the two teens stood up and followed the dark-skinned waitress into the kitchen. I followed them into the warm room. "Hey, are you making cookies?" I called as I walked through the blue/green doors. Flo looked over her shoulder at me, grinning broadly.

"Yup! And I heard ya wanna help, hmm, honey?"

"Yes, please."

"That'd be great! First, y'all need to wash your hands. Next, we need to decide on what kind of cookies we should make," Flo directed, and we girls nodded.

"I think we should make gingerbread cookies," I suggested as I walked to the kitchen sink to wash my hands. I looked around the kitchen as I turned the knob on the sink and plunged my hands into the warm water. It looked like any restaurant kitchen - a bunch of ovens and stoves, counters, hanging pot racks filled with kitchen utensils, the works.

"Oh, great idea, Kelly, honey!" Flo congratulated me, beaming.

"Thanks."

"How bout sugar cookies?" Shannon suggested. "Ones we can frost?"

"And maybe some Hershey Kiss cookies?" Andrea said. Flo nodded, searching through her giant pantry.

"I believe I have all the necessary ingredients!" she declared as she gathered some up and placed them on the counter. I grabbed an apron as Flo rolled up the sleeves of her teal waitress uniform. We teenagers gathered around the counter, talking excitedly. Our first recipe would be sugar cookies. I inspected the recipe as Flo asked for me to grab a large bowl, and I obliged. Andrea fetched the butter and sugar, Shannon measured them, and then Flo creamed them in a bowl. I watched the beater's whisks whirl around the bowl in almost fascination, Christmas music running through my head. I soon realized it wasn't in my head - Andrea had turned on her iPhone's music, and the music added to the cheerful Christmas mood as we mixed, beat, rolled, shaped, and baked batch after batch of cookies. We had a near disaster when I used a half cup to measure some flour when I should have used a whole cup, but Flo caught me before I messed up the entire recipe, thank goodness.

After the last batch of gingerbread men went in the oven, Flo announced that the sugar cookies were cool enough to frost. I wasn't the best artist, but I had creativity. I dipped my butter knife in a bowl of homemade green frosting and smeared it across a Christmas tree. I then added some Twizzlers to act as tinsel, and M&Ms for ornaments. I frosted snowman after Christmas tree after reindeer. They weren't the neatest, but they were cheerful, and my lack of artistic skills wouldn't affect the taste.

After about two cheerful hours, we were all a little sweaty and red-faced, had sugar grains ground on the bottom of our shoes, and I had frosting streaked on my cheek, courtesy of a sugar high Andrea, but we were all laughing and happy. We brought our cookies out into the dinner and gave them away to friends and family. Doc picked up one of my snowmen, which had about an inch of frosty on it, and eyes, a mouth, and buttons that had somehow ended up in the wrong spots, and lifted an eyebrow at me.

"Is this yours?" he inquired. I nodded sheepishly.

"Too much frosting," he grunted, and before I could register hurt, he took a big bite out of the poor snowman's head. I laughed at him and swatted at his arm with my apron.

"Hey," I complained teasingly, grinning broadly as I grabbed the first Christmas tree I had frosted earlier and bit into it. It was amazing, and I almost moaned in delight as the cookie melted in my mouth, leaving a bit of Twizzler, two M&Ms, and a huge glob of green frosting. Mmm, sugar...

About twenty minutes later, we had three little children running wild around the cafe, grinning frosty smiles with cookies crumbs on their mouths as they laughed at absolutely nothing.

I was most certainly not one of them.

...

Sorry for the short chapter! It's been an insanely busy day for me, but hopefully tomorrow's chapter will be longer. Thanks for reading!

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Thanks for reading!

Kitty