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Little Miss Santa Claws 6. Missy 32%
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6. Missy

CHAPTER 6

Missy

“ W ait, so you’re saying Santa and Krampus are the same person?” Nicole asks as she presses in close to me. We’re inching toward the staircase together. Her eyes are luminous, and her hands are waving excitedly in front of her as she continues, “Like some kind of Christmas Jekyll and Hyde?”

I grimace.

“Not exactly .” Chuckling nervously, I shift the bag higher on my shoulder. “The Krampus is just an elf’s shadow. Our moon side, so to speak. We all have one.”

That’s the easiest explanation I can come up with. The truth is a little more complicated.

Our kind were once stars, our spirits living amidst the darkness, and it was impossible not to take some of that dark with us when we fell. The Originals passed it down to us, and I will pass it down to my children someday, if I ever have them. Light and dark. They must exist together or not at all.

It is the gift and curse of our existence: to balance the delicate cosmos, just like life and death. Both come, both linger, and essentially, so do we. We’re never to be seen but always remembered, immortalized in a passing season.

All eternal spirits like me live on in that familiar darkness: Santa Claus, Mother Earth, Maiden Spring, and so many others. Say our name. Dream of us. That’s as real as we get.

We do not belong to Earth, though there are others like us who do.

“Well, whatever she is, I like her,” Nicole says, shooting me a sideways smirk. “So, what now?”

My stomach sinks as we near the stairs. The moment we get back to the sleigh, I should wipe her memory. I have to. Now that I have the sleigh back, I need to get back on with the deliveries. Still, I feel sick about it. I don’t know why.

The mesmerizer in my father’s coat won’t hurt her, but it will confuse her for a while.

She’ll know nothing except that she took a late-night drive to look at all the Christmas lights and then ran out of gas next to a fraternity. That nice kid, Gregory, filled up the car’s tank for her before sending her home. Simple. Nice.

This is just protocol, but I don’t want to do it.

Maybe it’s because she’s my first “watcher” on the job. Papa talked about his first, how the kid had climbed into his bag when he wasn’t watching and scared the peppermint patties out of him in the air. That kid got the sleigh ride of their life that night. I could tell that it broke Papa’s heart to make the kid forget. He always insisted that the bag of presents should be kept in the sleigh after that night, but my current experience leads me to disagree.

And perhaps that’s why I don’t put the bag down right there in the hallway to grab the mesmerizer from Papa’s coat. Perhaps that’s why I decide to put it off as long as I can.

“In a moment,” I reply, veering toward the open bathroom door. “I just have to use the bathroom real quick.” And figure out how to pull up my big girl pants to do what needs to be done. It’s not a big deal. It’s just business.

If anyone could understand that, it would be Nicole.

I plan on hiding out in the bathroom for a moment to collect myself, but it turns out, I’m not the only one with that idea. The moment I step over the threshold, I hear sniffling. It’s a small, muffled noise, but it definitely came from inside this room.

I don’t see anyone right away. The walking space is empty, just a scuffed tile floor and a dirty toilet with the seat flipped up. They must be in the tub. The white shower curtain is covering it. If I squint, I can just make out the outline of a petite body.

“Hello?” I call. “Is someone in there?”

Nicole is at my side in an instant. “What’s going on?”

“I think someone is crying in the bathtub.”

“Well, that’s not a surprise. It’s a fraternity.”

The person in the tub sniffles again. “No one is crying,” they mutter. “Go away.”

Nicole chuckles. “Right, well, now I’m convinced. It must be a ghost.”

I tug the shower curtain open and find a young woman glaring at us. Her face is red and splotchy around the eyes, her cheeks wet. She has been drinking, but not in excess from what I can tell. She’s just sad.

With a sigh, I drop the bag of presents and crouch next to the tub.

The girl’s gaze anchors in mine, and my mind starts spinning with information. “Annie Travis. What are you doing here on Christmas Eve?”

Fresh tears well in her eyes. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.” I smile at her and flick the bell on the end of my hat. “This just happens to be the first time we’ve met.”

She blinks a few times, her eyebrows furrowing. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“You’re drunk enough to be crying in this gross bathroom,” Nicole interjects sharply, leaning her shoulder against the wall next to the tub. Her eyes flick between me and Annie, and I’m surprised to see there’s something strange and dark simmering in them.

“I’m not drunk,” Annie mumbles, staring emptily at her knees.

“Of course, you aren’t,” I reassure her. “You’re a good girl, always have been.”

Annie’s eyes shift to mine, and some of her defensiveness falls away. “I don’t even like drinking. It’s so dumb. It doesn’t even feel good.”

Nicole scoffs and pushes off the wall to cross her arms. When I glance up, I see her face is flushed, and her gaze flits around the room, like she’s trying to avoid looking at us. I’m not sure why. Did I say something to upset her?

I turn back to Annie.

“You were crying about something,” I remind her. “So, I’ll ask again: what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Los Angeles right now?”

There’s no hesitation this time. Annie covers her face with her hands and wails into them. “I suck . I failed a class. I can’t go home and tell my parents. They’ll be so disappointed in me.”

I reach out and touch her arm. “Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is!” she insists, dropping her hands and squinting through her tears. “Do you know how much college costs these days? They took out a second mortgage for me, and I’m wasting it.”

Nicole chuckles to herself. “Now it’s all making sense.”

How can she be so cold? Logically, I know she’s on the naughty list, but not many naughty-listers would help Santa even if they knew I was real. They would lie to themselves before believing in someone like me. My heart wants to believe the best in her, but now, I’m wondering if it’s too far buried to retrieve.

I ignore her and focus on the good girl in front of me. “Your parents love you, Annie, even when you fail.”

“Don’t get her hopes up, Santa.” Nicole’s tone is caustic and gloomy. A rain cloud hovering overhead. When I throw a glare at her over my shoulder, she pointedly avoids my gaze, which is probably for the best. My claws are ready to come out.

“Excuse you, Nicole. They do .”

Nicole rolls her eyes.

I return my gaze to Annie. “Your parents miss you,” I tell her, squeezing her arm. “And they care more about you being home for Christmas than they do about you failing one class. You got exceptional marks in all your other classes this semester, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes,” she blubbers.

“You see?” I say with an encouraging smile. “This is just a little hiccup. Life is full of them. Don’t push people away just because you’re afraid of causing them pain. Pain is a part of living and loving. All you can do is keep trying.” I reach into my father’s coat pocket. Magic tickles at my fingertips as I withdraw the plane ticket and extend it towards Annie. “Let the love in where you hurt the most.”

Annie’s eyes widen as she reads the paper in my hand. Tentatively, she takes it.

“That’s a good girl,” I praise her.

Nicole scoffs.

That’s it. My patience with this woman has officially run out. I get to my feet and spin around to face her, lifting the sack of presents up off the floor. “Can I talk to you in the hallway?” I growl. Without waiting for a response, I stomp into the hallway and wait for her to join me.

When she exits the bathroom, I lean over and wrench the door shut before I turn on her.

“Where did this horrible attitude come from?” I demand.

She crosses her arms like a petulant teen. “I can’t believe you told that girl to go home for Christmas. You don’t even know her.”

“I do know her,” I argue. “She wanted to go home. She’s just scared.”

Nicoles huffs an acrid laugh. “It’s not true, you know. We’re all just strapped together in this rickety old rollercoaster, hurtling through life with a rush of adrenaline and terror, but pretty soon, we come down. And that’s when we realize exactly how fucked up it all is. Families are broken. All of them. If you need approval from your parents to be truly happy, then you’ve already failed yourself.”

I fall back a step, my jaw slackening.

She’s extremely unhappy at the moment, and now I realize that my conversation with Annie in the bathroom set her off. She can’t handle anyone finding contentment in their family right now. But that’s her problem, not mine.

“Are you talking about her ,” I say evenly, “or are you talking about yourself? Because if I’m not mistaken—and I know I’m not—you wanted to be home for Christmas too. The only difference between you and her is that she still has one.”

Nicole flinches, and I almost regret it. Almost.

But then she says, “It doesn’t even matter. Look at you . You have the entire North Pole behind you, but you’re still alone. On Christmas Eve. Fighting against your own shortcomings for the sake of a joy you can’t even feel anymore. Don’t think I didn’t notice. You’re not happy. This whole Santa thing is just a mask. There’s no one waiting up for you, no one to make proud. You’re as alone as I am. And trust me when I say, sometimes, life is easier that way.”

I know she’s projecting, that it’s not personal, but I can’t stop myself from taking it that way.

Her words are harsh, but they’re also true. I am alone. I’ll be alone when I return to the North Pole. The elves have Christmas Day off to celebrate and be with their families, so the workshop and the house will be empty. Half of my family is dead, and the other half left me behind. My brother is Holly-knows-where. My younger sister is at some boarding school for the magically gifted for at least another two years. And no one wants a griever sitting at their table.

I battle the urge to shift back into my Krampus.

I didn’t do anything to deserve the way she’s talking to me right now, but that’s the problem with humans. They always crush the things they don’t understand, like little bugs who wander too close to their feet. This little bug is poisonous, though.

I step forward, but the anger I feel is already slipping through my fingers.

Tomorrow is the first Christmas without Papa, and I’m so scared it’s not going to feel like Christmas without him. I’m already direly behind on delivering presents. Chances are, I’m not going to make it. Not on my own. I have to accept that.

I can’t make my father proud. The humans don’t appreciate the legacy he created, the legacy I’m trying so damn hard to keep alive. Sooner or later, the harvestable magic of this planet, the magic that feeds the North Pole and its electric atmosphere—that elusive “ Christmas Cheer” —will run out, and we’ll have to move on anyway. A new galaxy. A new Earth.

Why not give up on this one now?

I can’t feel the joy anymore. Maybe I should be a little bit naughty too.

“Maybe you’re right,” I mutter. I shove the present sack into Nicole’s chest, and she rocks back on her heels at the impact, wrapping her arms around it with a bewildered frown. I shuck off my father’s coat and drape it over the bag. “There. Keep those things safe for me. I’ll pick them up from your house in the morning.”

As I stalk towards the staircase, Nicole finally comes to her senses.

“Wait, what?” she calls after me. “Why?”

I pause just long enough to scowl at her over my shoulder as my hand grasps the dingy wooden railing. “Because I’m a messy elfin’ drunk.”

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