The Holiday Switch(62)
This time, I wonder if I’m brave enough.
Dear Lila, On behalf of BookGalley, I would like to extend our thanks for applying to our internship program. After careful consideration of all qualified applicants, we are pleased to offer you an interview via video chat. If this still interests you, please respond to this email so we can schedule a time with Martina Flowers, our BookGalley HR director.
Sincerely,
Alexis Lehman
Internship Coordinator BookGalley
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 29
“So what are you going to do?” The muscles in Carm’s forearms flex as she squeezes the clear bag of green icing onto her cookie. We’re at Yule Be Baking, the pastry shop on Second Street, set up in a windowed-corner with three other couples for a 2:00 p.m. cookie decorating class.
“I’m not sure. I still have to make the video interview appointment.” I look down at my cookie, which is supposed to be my version of a decorated reindeer. Except it is a mess. My piping skills have left too much to be desired, and frankly, my patience is shot. So I decide to take a bite out of the cookie instead and stare out the window.
Downtown Holly is abuzz. While the town is usually busy before Christmas, it’s post-Christmas when we see the flood of tourists. Perhaps it’s the fact that New Year’s Eve signals fun, or that this year, visitors are flocking in early for New Year’s Eve by the Lake. Whatever the case, the vibe is joyous.
The cookie is delicious, and I take another bite. “What would you do?”
“About the interview? No question. Do it.” She lays down her piping bag and gestures to her cookie. “Look at that perfect layer of icing.”
“It is perfect.”
She scrunches her nose at my disaster cookie. “You’re not even trying.”
“I don’t think my icing’s the right consistency, though it is delicious.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re stressed about this internship. Let’s talk about your pros and cons again.”
I groan. “I’ve been talking myself through those for the last twenty-four hours.” Since I received the email yesterday, I even contemplated broaching my parents for their opinion. But that would entail spilling everything—including my years of being the anonymous blogger behind TnT.
“What’s stopping you?” Carm prods.
“Besides my parents? Revealing who I am to the world. That it will be a time commitment I can’t juggle right now. It’s another job.”
“But the internship is paid, right? It would help with Syracuse.”
“That’s true.” I lick my lips. The sugar gives me a boost.
“And is it bad for people to know who you are?” She picks up the piping bag of red icing.
“I…I don’t know. Honestly, it’s been nice to be able to write without anyone knowing who I am. I mean, besides you and Teddy.”
“But what about it do you not want people to know?”
“I don’t know.” I take another bite of cookie.
Carm lifts her gingerbread man that she iced with an ugly red sweater. “Ta-da!”
“It’s perfect.”
“I started to do a Santa jacket and switched it up.”
“Very smart.”
“A person’s got a right to change their mind, Lila.” Her stare is pointed.
“Yes, Mom.” I roll my eyes.
“And…speaking of…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to tell your parents.” She wipes her fingers with a napkin. “I mean, after an initial freak-out.”
I shiver at the thought, and we both laugh. I relax into the moment despite the solemn turn of the conversation. The music piping through the speakers is a soothing instrumental holiday song. I’m with a friend who’s basically family. We’re icing cookies while staring onto a pretty sidewalk view. “It hasn’t been so bad, our Mission: Holly excursion. Slightly cheesy, but fun.”
“Are you feeling the spirit?” She grins.
“I am, thanks to you.”
“I’m not sure it’s just me who’s helping you do that.”
“Stop.” I pick up the next cookie from the stack. “I’m trying to work here.” Though it feels like the sugar has gone straight to my head. After yesterday’s climbing session, Teddy and I hung out the rest of the afternoon. Tonight we plan to meet up again, this time with his climbing friends.
“I’ll only stop if you quit smiling.”
So I suck in my cheeks, which makes us roll with laughter.
“You really like him,” she says.
“I do.”
“I bet Ms. Velasco and your parents are loving this.”
At the mention of our families, I still. “They don’t know. And everything’s so new with us. The other night was—”
“The other night? This calls for extra cookies to make. Or eat. Because I want to know everything. Wait here.” She heads to the counter to purchase more plain sugar cookies.
My cheeks burn with my leftover glee.
* * *
“That was vicious. My quads are killing me,” Jared says.