The next morning Hamilton awoke feeling like he was still in a dream.
The house was warm - his mother had built another fire in the
fireplace. The smell of baking cinnamon rolls wafted up from the
kitchen, and best of all, Jake was lying in bed only five feet away
from him. Just being able to open his eyes and see her sweet face was
so... wow. There weren't words. The only thing that could be better was
if she were in his bed right next to him.
And with that thought, he sat upright and looked at the door. His eyes
searched the floor for the index card.
It was lying facedown, flat on the carpet.
Hamilton's heart sank, and then he groaned and flopped back onto his
pillows.
The sound woke up Jake. "What?" she asked.
"The index card."
Jake turned to look and saw that it fell down. "Your mom came in."
"I don't know. I just remembered that I got up to go to the bathroom in
the middle of the night."
"And you didn't put it back?"
Hamilton shook his head and covered his eyes with his arm. Jake
couldn't help but laugh at the agony on his face.
"It's not funny," he moaned.
There was a knock at the door, followed by his mother's voice.
"Hamilton, are you guys up?"
"Yeah."
Kate opened the door and poked her head in. "I made cinnamon rolls.
Come get 'em while they're hot. And, Jake, this just came for you." She
walked in with a FedEx box. Jake sat up to take it, but had to keep her
blanket pulled up over her chest. She wasn't wearing her corset.
"Thanks." She was grateful that her morning voice was so gravelly she
didn't have to lower it.
"If you want, I'll wrap it and put it under the tree," Kate offered.
"No, thanks, Mrs. Fleming."
"OK. We'll make sure you have some presents to unwrap." Kate winked at
Jake and left.
Hamilton sat up and eyed the package with concern as Jake started
opening it. "Is that from your mom?" he asked.
"No. I'd never have her send stuff here. The last thing I need is to
get packages for Jacqueline Pratt. Besides, my mom doesn't even know
that I'm staying here."
"She doesn't?"
"Nope. I guess I should call her."
"Isn't she going to wonder where you are?"
"Only if she calls Palm Springs on Christmas... It once took my mom
three months to realize that I was going to school in Texas rather than
England. If she knows what continent I'm on, we're doing well."
Hamilton was still eyeing the package. "So who's it from?"
"It's from me. Something I ordered. For you."
"A Christmas present?"
"Sort of a pre-Christmas present." She grinned at him as she slid out a
plastic-wrapped bundle. She tossed it to him, and it landed in his lap.
Giving her a curious look, he unfolded the plastic to find two pairs of
pajamas. They were Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers suits. One blue, one
yellow. His jaw dropped.
"Oh, my God," Hamilton exclaimed, lifting them up. It was only two
nights earlier, sitting on the dormitory roof while setting off their
prank, that Hamilton had told her the story of the pajamas he'd had as
a kid. His mother had given him two pairs one Christmas, so that he and
a friend could wear them. But he had friends sleep over so rarely he'd
outgrown them before he'd had the chance.
"You might think it's totally dorky," Jake said, unsure of his
reaction. "But I'll totally wear them if you want."
"Will they fit us?"
"Yeah. They're adult sizes. The blue's large, for you. The other one's
a small."
"Where the hell did you find adult-sized superhero pajamas?"
"It's called the Internet, Ham. You can find anything you want."
"Is that what you were doing on your computer when I walked in
yesterday?"
"Maybe." She smiled coyly.
"Blue... that's the same color my mom got me. I didn't tell you that."
"What else would she give you? Hamilton, anyone who gives you clothing
that isn't blue is committing a crime."
Hamilton laid the pajamas out in front of him. For a moment he didn't
speak, and Jake got nervous again.
"So... what do you think?" she asked finally.
"I think... you just scored some serious points in the 'best Christmas
ever' contest." He grinned at her, and in response a smile spread over
her face like sun breaking though the clouds. "We're going to have a
lot of fun in these," he continued. "But we can't wear them in front of
the parentals, because that would look--"
"Yeah, of course."
"But I know somewhere we can wear them. After breakfast, we're going
out."
* * * * *
They managed to escape the Dean's presence at breakfast. Kate informed
them that he had gone into town to do his Christmas shopping. Hamilton
and Jake scarfed down cinnamon rolls, turkey sausages, orange juice,
and coffee. Hamilton made a face when Jake put eggnog in her coffee.
"It's good. You should try it," Jake insisted.
"No thanks. Looks gross."
"Wuss."
After they ate, Hamilton showed Jake the game closet. It was full of
sporting equipment, board games, video games, and all kinds of toys.
"Plenty to keep us busy," he said.
Jake stepped in and looked around. "I'm just warning you, Fleming. I'll
kick your ass at Parcheesi."
"I don't know about that. You couldn't possibly be better than James."
"Who's James?"
"James was one of my very best imaginary friends."
"He didn't happen to live in a giant peach, did he?"
Hamilton gave her a sardonic smile and pulled down two odd-shaped
orange plastic guns from a shelf. "Here they are."
"What do they do?"
"Shoot ping-pong balls."
"OK, that could be fun." She didn't sound convinced.
Hamilton raised an eyebrow. "Wait, I know what you'll like."
* * * * *
"Are you sure breaking into your father's office is a good idea?" Jake
asked as Hamilton found the right key and unlocked the door. They were
in their coats now, having trekked across the snowy quad to the
administrative building.
"We're not breaking in. We've got a key. Besides, you heard my mom say
he's in town. Buying presents takes him forever. He agonizes over it.
You know, because everything has to be perfect."
"Funny. That sounds like someone else I know."
Hamilton ignored that comment and led her into the office and over to a
closet, which required another key to open. He also happened to have
this one on his key chain.
"Why is the closet locked?" Jake asked.
"Because it holds contraband." He pulled out two large water guns.
"Those look familiar."
"I had my dad confiscate them from Will and Scout," Hamilton explained,
with a triumphant grin.
"That's so evil! You know, you're a narc now."
"But for a good cause, right?"
Jake shook her head but smiled. Will and Scout deserved it, having
attacked her and Hamilton with those very guns in the middle of an
extremely hot make-out session.
They went to the nearest dormitory restroom to change into their new
clothes and admire themselves in the long mirrors. In the smaller
version of the matching pajamas, Jake could easily have been Hamilton's
little brother, or sister. The little brother or sister he always
wanted but never got, Jake remembered him telling her.
They filled their water guns in the bathroom sinks, each promising
serious ass-kickings to the other. Hamilton gave Jake a thirty-second
head start, and then it was all-out war.
She took off running down the hallway and managed to skip up the
staircase without him seeing where she went. She peered over the
railing and waited until she could see his head right below her, then
she pulled the trigger and let loose a cold stream. Direct hit.
"Aaaahh!" Hamilton yelled. She was soaking him, and he couldn't fight
back. He was in an open space, fully exposed, whereas she could duck
back behind the railing when he tried to return fire. He gave up and
tore after her up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.
Jake screamed and ran off down the hallway, trying to find another good
defensive position. She knew he was right behind her. She rounded a
corner and stopped, catching her breath. She tried the door next to
her, but it was locked. She tried the next door, and it was locked as
well. She knew she couldn't outrun him. He was such a stronger runner
than she was that when they did go running together, deep into the
woods with no one else around, he sometimes ended up carrying her on
his back for part of the jog; Hamilton considered this a form of cross-
training.
Her heart pounding with the thrill of the chase, Jake knew she had to
stand her ground. The best defense was a good offense, and she would be
ready for him. She could hear him coming, slowly now, stealthily, as if
there were a possibility that she didn't already know where he was. She
knew he was trying to decide whether she went to the left or the right.
"Aah!" With a yell, he leapt around the corner and landed right in
front of her, having chosen correctly. But scare tactics got him
nowhere -- she was ready, her gun poised at her shoulder, and she
unloaded right into his face.
"Hah!" she cried in reply as he yelped and jumped back. But this time
he was able to return fire, and they stood spraying each other at close
range and screaming until Jake realized she was running low on ammo and
would have to retreat and reload. As she turned to run --
SWOOSH... SPLAT!
The wet floor slipped from beneath her feet, and she landed on her
hands and stomach in a puddle of water.
Hamilton was on her in a second. He flipped her onto her back and
straddled her, then easily wrestled her gun away and pinned her to the
ground.
"Noooo!" she screamed, half-laughing, half-gasping.
Hamilton's sopping wet hair hung down in his eyes and dripped onto
Jake's face. She squirmed underneath him, trying to buck him off. He
threw aside his own weapon to hold down each of her hands with his own.
"How do you like them apples, Pratt?" Hamilton teased, his bright eyes
gloating down at her as he paused to catch his breath. "You may beat me
at video games, but this is the real world, and I'm stronger than you
are."
Jake stopped struggling. They were both panting, gazing at each other,
caught up in the battle.
"So, Hamilton," Jake shot back at him, "did you get this turned on with
your imaginary friends?"
Hamilton didn't even realize how aroused he was until she voiced it,
but he was suddenly aware of how hard he was pressing into her stomach,
how tightly his legs squeezed her hips. His heart was pounding, and it
felt like all the blood coursing through his veins wanted to course
right into her. He was hot and wet, as was she. He looked at her mouth,
which was open, panting, and inviting, and he knew that at the very
least, he had to kiss her.
And he would have had the chance, had he not been interrupted by a
man's voice...
"Mr. Fleming, we do not allow the mounting of fellow Rawley students in
the hallway."