Boys Like You

December is a crazy month.

School winds down. Parties seem to take up every weekend. Hanukkah. Christmas. Birthdays.

Mine falls on the 20th, which was today, and I was glad my parents had let it go without a big deal. I really hated big deals. Besides, who had time for birthdays when there was still so much to do for the holidays?

It was the Saturday before Christmas, and I’d spent most of it shopping with my best friend, Kate. We’d spent a small fortune on each other—it’s so much easier to do when we can pick out our own presents—and I had to search for the perfect gift for Gram.

She was arriving in two days, and I couldn’t wait to see her.

“Okay, I have, like, three bags of potato chips, cheese popcorn, and Skor chocolate. What do you want first?” Kate asked.

I tossed a pillow at Kate and made a face. “And you wonder why you’ve got zits popping up on your chin.”

“Junk food has nothing to do with it,” Kate grinned. “It’s called hormones.” She shoved a piece of chocolate in her mouth. “Speaking of hormones, when is Mr. Gorgeous Skyping this week?”

My frown deepened. “He’s working late for his uncle on some big project. So maybe later tonight.”

“Huh,” she said and flopped down beside me. “I have Love Actually or The Notebook.”

I glanced over her shoulder. “Why don’t we do both?”

The doorbell went and I yelled, “Mom, the McGills are here.”

My parents were going to a Christmas party, so Kate and I had the night ahead of us, and we intended to eat ourselves into a stupor, high on chocolate and popcorn, and watch our favorite movies.

The doorbell went again and I shoved off from the sofa. “Put the movie in, Kate. I’ll be right back.”

We lived in a large, comfortable brownstone, but our living space went up, not out. This meant that the family/TV room was on the third floor, and by the time I got to the main level, I was breathing a little harder than I’d like.

“Mom,” I yelled over my shoulder one more time before opening the door and standing back. It was cold out and snowy. I shivered and then froze. Like really froze. Like my entire body was as still as a deer in the headlights.

I think that maybe my world tilted a little off center. Or the earth moved.

Or maybe my reality had just fallen in on itself and I was in a different dimension. A dimension where my boyfriend—my hot, sweet, amazing boyfriend—was standing on the front stoop with huge, feathery snowflakes glistening in his hair.

“Oh,” was all I managed to say.

I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to be that girl who falls apart at the mere sight of the boy she loves.

But holy hell, I was that girl.

The tears started before I could stop them, and then his arms were around me. We were laughing and kissing and crying, and I didn’t want to open my eyes because I was so scared that it was all a dream.

“Hey,” he said softly, his lips nuzzling my ear.

I wriggled out of his arms. “What are you doing here? Oh my God, Nathan. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

I glanced down in horror at my old sweats and the faded, gray T-shirt that used to be white. I had on my bunny slippers, my hair was in a ponytail, and—my hands flew to my chin—there, where I knew he could see the white zit paste.

The white zit paste that was smeared all over his cheek.

“Jesus, Monroe. You weren’t kidding. He’s hot.”

Kate came up behind me, and I heard my parents shuffling behind her. I glanced back and saw that they weren’t dressed to go out. In fact, Dad had on his comfy pants, the ones where the zipper was forever falling down.

“Nathan?”

God, I wished we were alone. He looked so handsome in his dark jeans, boots, and heavy jean jacket. His beanie hung off the back of his head, and I loved that there was a bit of stubble on his chin.