The Holiday Switch(19)
“What?” He laughs.
“N-nothing. I mean, I was confused, seeing the notifications.”
“You read my notifications?”
“I couldn’t help it! And…” The truth dawns on me. “You’re calling me from my phone.”
“I thought it would be faster than going all the way back to the Inn. And oh my God, why do you have a password with all ones? I took a chance, and it worked.”
“It’s for my brothers, since I let them use my phone.” And because I hate passwords. Note to self: create a tougher one. I shake my head at my thoughts, which are going down the wrong chimney. “Wait. I’m confused.”
“I took your phone, Lila. Accidentally. And I can’t bring it back right this second. Can we meet later on tonight? Around midnight?”
“Midnight?”
“Yeah, I’m—”
“I can’t meet at midnight. I’ll be asleep by then.”
“I can’t do earlier. How about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? That’s too far away. And I’ve got school.”
“I don’t mind meeting you early.”
“Why is this so complicated?” What does he have to do that’s so important that we can’t exchange our phones until tomorrow??
From his side of the world, someone yelps. The phone muffles, and Teddy mumbles something, sounding far away.
“Hello?” I call out. “I’m still here.”
“Yeah, okay. Sorry. Meet me at the Scrooge’s Shack for breakfast. How early can you get there?”
“I mean…” I raise my fingers to my forehead, thinking of my schedule. “Seven, I guess?”
“Seven, then. See you—”
Now, thinking of his notifications, mine must be flashing on my screen too. From Carm or KC or geez, Irene, and maybe even my TnT blog notifications. No! I heave a breath to calm myself. There are character limits to notifications, and my blog notifications look so much like email ones. And since it’s been a few days since I posted, none might come in while he has my phone. “Just don’t snoop through my phone, and please, please take care of it, okay?”
“Yep.” He clicks off. Without a goodbye.
But that’s not what catches my attention. It’s all the texts that continue to flow through this group chat.
Will: Where are you T?
Cece: He’s probably at that new job. Can’t believe you ditched us for Holly.
Will: Not sure how you’re going to manage new job and the thing we’re not supposed to talk about
Penn: T don’t take the L
Cece: Stay focused. You worked too hard
Will: We also need updates on the nemesis
Penn: Don’t piss her off you might need her
My eyes glom on to that message.
Nemesis. Is this text about me?
And what’s “the thing we’re not supposed to talk about”?
Here’s what I know for sure: Teddy has a secret, one that could potentially affect work. Something simmers inside of me, like anger and vindication. He took my hours at the Inn, and for what? So he could be doing whatever he’s doing?
My face burns. This is wrong, me reading his notifications, but it’s not my fault, is it? They’re just showing up in front of me. At least I didn’t hack into his phone, like Teddy did to mine.
Behind me, the door opens, followed by Ms. Velasco’s throaty laugh. “Lila! I know you’re on your break, but I’ve got a customer here who wants a tour of your library.”
I slip the phone into my pocket and stand, feeling equally relieved and guilty at the interruption. “Um, sure! I’m happy to give a tour.”
As I head back to the Inn and go into my memorized tour, showing a white-haired older woman all the hard work I’ve done building this library, all I can think of are Teddy’s texts.
If I’m the nemesis, what problem does he have with me? And what is he hiding?
* * *
“If you need help or have any problems, simply raise your hand,” says Mrs. Delaney, who’s dressed in an impeccable Mrs. Claus outfit, complete with artificial white hair and rosy cheeks. We’re at our ornament-making class, which is the first item on our Mission: Holly bucket list that we’ve managed to attempt—mostly because I’ve been working at the Inn all the time, as Carm keeps reminding me. As Mrs. Delaney speaks, I try to take in her tips on how to decorate the inside of a clear glass Christmas ball above the chatter in the packed log cabin.
Yet, despite her sincere enthusiasm—her job as a kindergarten teacher at Holly Elementary is at full display—I’m still confused. Why did I pay so much money for a fifty-cent glass ball, with instructions that leave so much room for interpretation? How this ornament-making event ended up ranking six on the list of things to do in Holly, I have no idea.
I raise my hand. Next to me, Carm sighs, and KC bites his lip to keep a laugh from escaping, but I forge on.
“Yes, Lila?” asks Mrs. Delaney.
“If I dribble the acrylic paint inside, won’t the colors just mix together and turn brown?”
“Not if you go slow, dear. And try dripping it against the inside of the actual glass.”