Trapped Under the Christmas Tree (Christmas Tree, PA Sweet Romcom #1)

Chapter 5

Jake

Tessa does not have to open her mouth for me to know that my phone is not usable. I can tell from the expression on her face. I never noticed how animated her face is. She seems so quiet and mousy, but her expressions convey more than her words do.

And her eyes look deeply brown in the Christmas lights that sparkle around the town square.

I don’t know why I’m thinking about her lip and now her eyes, when I’m in such an uncomfortable position.

If that weren’t bad enough, she’s still holding my broken phone, and we’re still looking at each other, and the first drops of rain start to fall.

She notices them too and looks up, her hand out, like she’s going to catch raindrops in her hand.

“I don’t think that’s rain,” she says quietly.

My lips tighten. That makes my chances of a quick rescue even slimmer. “Great. I suppose I’m going to end up dying from hypothermia.”

“That’s something I can control,” she says, determination coming over her face. I appreciate the fact that I have someone who is not having the vapors or flipping out just because she is in a situation that is uncomfortable.

“I don’t know how,” I say. I guess it’s my way of asking her what exactly she means.

“Let me give you this. You can see if it works. But even if it does, I’m not sure you’re going to be able to do anything with your screen cracked the way it is.”

“I have a screen protector on it. Maybe it’s just that that’s cracked.”

She hands me my phone, and I press the side button, but it doesn’t even turn on. This is not good.

“Let me see if I can get the screen protector off,” I say, leaning on my elbow and working in my awkward partial side lying position.

“I can try if you want me to,” she says, after she watches my fumbling for a minute or two.

Thankfully the rain hasn’t started in earnest, and it’s just little drops.

It would be really nice if the weather forecast was completely wrong, and we only get a few drops and not the quarter inch of ice that they were forecasting if the temperatures didn’t cooperate.

After two more failed attempts, I hand my phone to her. Maybe I’m colder than what I thought I was.

I guess I hadn’t really thought about it until I couldn’t use my hands very well, but I’ve been lying here on these cold stones, and it is really chilly out. I can feel my mouth wanting to shiver. I grit my jaw instead.

Tessa kneels down beside me so I can see the phone in her hands as she works with it. I don’t have anything on my phone that’s private or secret, and I’m not sure if she’s doing it because she’s afraid there is, or if she’s just being considerate since it’s my phone.

“So, I don’t hand that out to just anyone,” I say, trying to sound charming. I think I fail.

“I should feel special then,” she says, and while she doesn’t sound cheerful, she does give me a little smile that somehow bolsters my spirits. It’s not huge, which probably would have made me feel like she isn’t concerned about my predicament, but it’s big enough to let me know that she feels confident in what she’s doing.

Somehow that confidence leeches into me, and it makes me feel good about this too. She’s going to help me, and that’s very reassuring.

“Oh no,” she says softly as she peels the broken and cracked screen protector off. “Bits of your screen are coming off. I’m pretty sure we can safely say that it’s cracked beyond repair.”

She shows me as she pulls the screen protector off, partway, and then seals it back up.

“I kind of figured when it didn’t turn on that it was toast, but I admit my optimism was holding out for a miraculous recovery.”

“I like optimism,” she says. Then, she lifts a shoulder. “This isn’t going to help us, but I have a phone, and I have some other things in my apartment that will help keep you warm and make you more comfortable. If you don’t mind if I leave for a minute or two?”

“No. I’m all about staying warm and comfortable.”

She laughs a little. “As warm and comfortable as a person can be while they’re lying underneath a giant Christmas tree, on cold stones, with freezing rain coming down on top of them.”

She doesn’t mess around but straightens up, laying my phone over by the ladder as she walks away.

I have to admit, as she leaves, she takes a little bit of the sunshine with her. I’m normally a very optimistic person, but it’s easy to fall into a trap of negative thoughts when a person is stuck and facing the prospect of hypothermia in a small town that normally would be down one’s throat helping, but surprisingly, the way things worked out tonight, there’s not a soul around.

I can’t wait until she comes back.