Christmas at Mixon (Motocross Me 1.50)

Teig makes a goofy grin. “Not anymore, now that you’re here.”

He shoves his flashlight in my hand.

“Hey! What are you—” I call out, but it’s too late, he’s already running away from me.

“Sorry, Hana. I love you!” he calls out over his shoulder. The little punk.

Now I have two red flashlights and no idea what to do.

Luckily, the other flashlight in the distance starts walking toward me. Soon I realize it’s Molly, all bundled up in a sweater and a fluffy scarf. Her cheeks are pink from the cold and her bright red flashlight casts a glow over the two of us.

“Teig ditched us, huh?” she says with a smile.

I nod. “I’m going to put coal in his stocking.”

She laughs. “It’s not that busy yet, hun. Do you want to go home and get dressed?”

“Uh, I am dressed,” I say, glancing down at my fluffy borrowed jacket and jeans. “I don’t think it’s supposed to get any colder than this.”

“I just meant . . . maybe you’d like to dress a little nicer?” She gives me a tentative smile and I can tell she’s trying not to insult me.

“It’s fine, Molly. I’m just going to be working all night. I don’t care to look nice.”

“Well what if, Shelby, or someone, wants to take a photo with you tonight?”

I throw a hand on my hip. “We aren’t children who want photos with Santa anymore, Molly. Trust me, I am perfectly fine looking like a hobo.”

Her hands fly up. “Okay, okay. I get it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Molly shows me how to direct the traffic into neatly organized rows of cars and trucks along the field. She stands near the front of the makeshift parking lot and guides people toward me and I guide them into a parking spot. It’s pretty easy and most people pay attention, although some idiots park so far away from the car next to them, you’d think they fear their car might suddenly get fatter or something.

We slip into a steady rhythm and I’m grateful for the need to pay attention to all of these cars full of bustling happy families who are all full of holiday spirit and cheer. The more things I have to focus on make less room in my mind for worrying about Ash. And really, this will be okay, I think as I twirl my flashlight to direct a silver minivan into the next parking spot.

Ash will come back eventually—it’s not like he’s gone forever and I’ll never see him again. He’ll be back and then the racing season will be over and I’ll have a couple of months alone with him.

I sigh and walk backward to make more space for the next car. And then of course, Ash will go back to race the next season and we’ll get to start this agony all over again.

Okay Hana. Time to think about something else.

The next set of headlights approaches me and I swing my flashlight, directing them into a spot. Although the truck is facing me and there’s no way the driver doesn’t see my signal, he turns to the left, away from my signaling. “Really?” I call out as heat rushes into my cheeks. “Hello!” I know he can’t hear me but I yell anyway. What kind of asshole does whatever they want instead of following a simple direction?

My phone beeps with a new message from Shelby. I draw in a deep breath to calm myself from being angry over that idiot driver and read the message.

Can you hang out soon? They’re about to start the fireworks.

Fireworks. How had I forgotten the Christmas Eve fireworks? Dad had only spent the last two months calling suppliers and getting permits from the city. He’d said that fireworks shouldn’t just be for New Year’s and the Fourth of July. Really, I think he’s just going a little bit insane with the need to bring Christmas cheer to the world.

I look toward the entrance where cars are still pulling in every few seconds and send her a reply: Can’t. I’m still on parking lot duty.

Right after I send her the text, another car pulls up and I wave it into the next parking spot. I don’t mind staying here alone when the fireworks go off. I’ll still be able to see them and it’ll be nicer than standing next to Shelby and her boyfriend during the experience. The last thing I need is another reminder that my boyfriend isn’t here. That other people are happy with their loved ones and I’m just so—blah.

My phone vibrates again.

Can’t you get out of it? It’s really important that you come watch fireworks with us.?

Ah ha. This girl can’t keep a secret for anything. She must have my present from Ash and is probably under orders to give it to me during a special moment. Of course he would have told me it wasn’t her—he’s trying to keep it a secret after all. Well, the joke is on both of them because I’m not going.

I text: Sorry. I really can’t leave.