A Cross-Country Christmas(2)

Lauren thought it was ridiculous.

Maddie didn’t know the truth. Not about this. Not about him—the “hot guy” who would be driving Lauren from Southern California to Northern Illinois in T-minus twenty minutes (or whenever he showed up.)

Heck, even Spencer didn’t know everything, so it’s not like she could really fault him for suggesting she hitch a ride with his best friend. If you wanted to get technical, even the hot guy himself probably didn’t remember everything, but her memory was good enough for the both of them. Certainly good enough for her to know that this plan only made her hatred of Christmas that much stronger.

Lauren came back to the present and noticed that Maddie was still talking. “You had a crush on him when you were a kid, so what?”

She made it sound so simple. So trite.

If he was the same now as he was when Lauren knew him. . .the flirting, the charm—scientists probably used his smile to calibrate their instruments—would she be as powerless in his presence as she’d been ten years ago?

Stupid smile. Stupid dimples. Stupid Will Sinclair.

Adjectives aside, she knew the truth about Will, and that’s what she’d be reminding herself of. Over and over again, she’d drill it into her head. She’d wasted more years than she would ever admit out loud pining over her brother’s best friend.

She was a lot older—and she felt, wiser—now. She knew better.

Common decency didn’t make him a good guy.

“Lo?” Maddie had stopped talking—what was she saying again?—and now stared at Lauren from across the table. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

Lauren sighed and pushed her plate away from her. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“Did he even know you had a crush on him?”

“Yes.” Lauren looked away. “No.” She groaned. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t know how he could’ve missed it. I wasn’t exactly stealthy in middle school.”

“Middle school?” Maddie rolled her eyes. “Like, as in when you were twelve? Please. I bet he doesn’t even remember. I don’t even remember what I did last week.”

Lauren smiled. “Yes, but you’re really flighty.”

That was probably true. Not the Maddie being flighty part, that was a proven fact—but the Will not remembering part. And, if it weren’t for Spencer, Will wouldn’t even know Lauren existed.

“It. . .wasn’t just middle school.” She winced. “It was all through high school and even a little bit in college.”

“That is the most Lauren Richmond thing I’ve ever heard.” The bell over the door jingled, and Lauren’s eyes darted to the entrance. Her heart skipped a beat, and she inadvertently gasped.

“Wow.” Maddie shook her head. “You’re kind of a mess.”

“Sorry,” Lauren said. “I don’t want to go. Like, not just with him, but at all. You know how I feel about Christmas. And my parents. And traveling. Do you think it’s too late to back out? I could tell them I have too much work. That’s not a lie.” She’d been working so hard, and she finally felt like she was making some progress with her boss. It really was a terrible time to leave.

Never mind that her boss had insisted she go. Sitcom set decorators apparently needed holidays too. Whether they wanted them or not.

Maddie shrugged and jabbed her fork into a piece of omelet from Lauren’s abandoned plate. “I mean,” mouth half full, “do you really want to tell Spencer you’re not coming?”

Lauren groaned. No, she thought, like a little kid being asked a question they already knew the answer to. She did not want to tell Spencer she wasn’t coming. She couldn’t do that to him, and she knew it. Not only had she left him alone to navigate the ongoing civil war between their parents, but his wife was about to give birth any day now. Spencer and Helen were counting on Lauren being there to meet her first niece or nephew. Despite the impending road trip from hell, Lauren really didn’t want to miss it.

Besides, it had been three years since she’d been home for Christmas. Spencer would disown her if she tried to stretch out her hiatus from her family any longer. She’d left him squarely in the middle of her parents’ unending feud, like silly putty being pulled back and forth between them in an unfair game with no winner.

“Spencer was really sweet to set up this ride for you in the first place,” Maddie said. “He misses you. I wish my brother missed me, but he’s so stoned most of the time I don’t think he even remembers he has a sister.” Maddie’s wild hair poked out from behind the sunglasses she’d stuck on top of her head. Her nose piercing glimmered in the sunlight streaming through the window.

“Do you want to come with?” Lauren asked. “That would make the whole thing more bearable.”

“Yeah, I feel super sorry for you that you have to be locked in a car with a guy that looks like Chris Evans after the super soldier serum.”

“Maddie.”

“Are you going to almost touch his sweaty pecs like Peggy Carter did? Because I think you should almost touch his sweaty pecs like Peggy Carter did.” Maddie waggled her eyebrows.

“You’re not helping,” Lauren said. The last thing she needed to be reminded of was what Will looked like. As if she’d forgotten. As if she would ever forget.