The Holiday Switch(18)

But that’s not what startles me. Many a girls’ trip have come through these doors, the Inn a crucial part of their pilgrimage. It’s the sheer amount of bodies. Five, six, eight, twelve…

“Big group!” Shana yells as she peers through the window. “A bus! Yikes. Two buses!”

Teddy grunts a complaint from the back, but moments later he appears, exasperation and complaint written on his face at my impending question.

“Stay?” I raise a hand before he can comment. “I know, and I’m sorry. These tour companies usually call before they arrive.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t? Look, you can’t bail right now. You can text Ms. Velasco, but until she gets here, we’re going to be outnumbered.” I bite my cheek to keep the rest of my thoughts at bay, aware of the customers entering the shop.

Finally, he answers with a hint of an eye roll. “Fine. But I’m not greeting them.”

“That’s okay with me.” I scramble to the door and face the avalanche of teal and giggles.

Turns out, the Inn is bombarded, too, leaving Shana, Teddy, and me to work the crowd until there are only five customers left in the store.

Teddy’s impatience is on display throughout the deluge. He sighs so loudly that I hear him above the roar of the crowd. His fingers drum against the counter in between each customer, and when one older lady who bought the replica straw hat Estelle wore during the film counted out quarters for payment, Teddy all but started to melt into a whimpering puddle like Frosty on a warm, sunny day.

    As soon as he dumps the quarters into the till, I approach the counter. “Just go.”

“You sure?”

“Absofreakinglutely.”

A grin splits his face, like he didn’t just spend the last ten minutes sulking. “Later.” He slips a hand under the counter and grabs his phone, then heads to the back. As he passes Shana and enters the doorway that leads to the hallway, he leaps to grab the door frame, his fingers on either side, and just hangs there. Then he lifts his knees up to his chest. Another pull-up.

Shana jumps back and flashes me a shocked expression. “What the—”

I shrug. I don’t even know what to say.





While my favorite place inside the Bookworm Inn is my library, my beloved outdoor spot is its east side covered patio area that overlooks Otisco Lake and the famous pier where Leo proposes to Estelle. Its location is away from the parking lot, out of view of customers, and far enough away from the cabins, which means it’s quiet and serene. It’s the perfect place to take my breaks, where it can be just me and the book I’m reading.

I plop down on the Adirondack chair, my jacket puffing up to cover my chin, and pull my next book out of my jacket pocket. It’s the first book in the mass market Hanukkah Hijinks cozy mystery series, called Menorah Mayhem, which I found in the free library pile. There aren’t enough non-Christmas holiday books in circulation, and anticipation rushes through me at the prospect of reading a Hanukkah tale. I dig into the first page, and then the second, the third, and more, and the rest of the day fizzles away.

My phone buzzes several times in my pocket. It tears me from the story—I’m at page twenty-three and, good thing, at a scene break.

But when I flip my phone over to check the text notifications, I notice that the lock screen photo isn’t of a pile of books but of mountains. A moment later, more texts fly in—I don’t recognize the names.

    Hugh: V7, baby!

Penn: Yo the way you matched your hands is absolutely heinous

Hugh: Yeah man just piano match and crank with your left

Will: And yeah that drop knee is absolutely ridiculous

Cece: That route’s spicy

Penn: That move is just heavy tension bro. You’ve got to core in and pray

Some of the words on the screen are broken up from the cracks that mark the glass.

My screen’s broken.

“No way, no way.” I’m always so, so careful with my things. This phone has to last me until I leave for school. As I sit up, irritation races up my spine. How did I switch my photo, break the screen, and mistakenly end up in a random group chat?

As a snowflake lands on the screen, I wipe it away, smearing water onto the glass and…Oh my gosh…“Where’s my screen protector? What the H. E. double candy canes is going on?”

The phone buzzes in my hand with an incoming call, and I fumble it in surprise, dropping it onto my lap. The number that appears on the screen is familiar, though there’s no photo assigned to it.

“Wait.” I read the number again, aloud. “Two one four, six eight five, one one one…”

It’s my phone number. What?

My thumb presses the green button instinctively, and my hand brings it to my ear. “Hello?”

    “You have my phone.”

It’s an alien from the other world. I’ve been dropped into a scene where aliens take over the phones of…

“Lila,” the voice says. “It’s Teddy.”

“Teddy?” My brain recalibrates. I pull the phone from my ear. Reread the phone number. Slowly, the facts come together.

“Oh my God, I have your phone,” I say. “This isn’t a plot to take over the world.”