The Twelve Dates of Christmas (3 page)

“Lex,” he choked out. “Cam.”

“What is it?” I grabbed his arm, resisting the urge to shake him. “Is someone hurt? Is it Mom or Dad? Or
your
mom or dad? What?
Who?
”

Nick waved his hand around vaguely. “No. No. Nothing like that. Everyone's fine.”

“Then what?” I demanded.

“Lexi . . . ,” Cam murmured soothingly.

Nick shook his head. “No,” he croaked. “It's just . . . just . . . just Rachel.”

Cam and I traded a confused look. “What do you mean, buddy?” Cam asked gently. “What about Rachel? Is she okay?”

Nick squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then opened them and stared at us bleakly. “She dumped me,” he said hoarsely. “Just now. Said she—um, she didn't want to see me tied down when she was off, you know, living her new life in college.”

Cam probably said all the right things after that—he usually does—but I was so shocked that I couldn't react at first. Nick and Rachel had seemed like the perfect couple from day one. I'd thought those two would be together forever.
Everyone
had thought that. Well, everyone but Rachel, apparently.

So what did “together forever” really mean, anyway?

“Actuate,”
Allie said. “Definition, please. I'll give you a hint—it's a verb.”

I took a sip of my strawberry milk shake, then drummed my fingers on the paper place mat in front of me. “Actuate,” I said. “To move or incite into action.”

“Very good. Now use it in a sentence.”

I glanced around the crowded Elf Street Diner for inspiration. “Um, I need to actuate myself into deciding what to do about me and Cam.”

Allie had just popped a french fry into her mouth. She frowned, then quickly chewed and swallowed. “Very funny,” she said. “You're not still thinking about that,
are you? I figured that was just end-of-summer doldrums or something.”

It had been a little over a week since the bonfire, and Allie and I had been way too busy since then to sit around discussing my relationship. School had started, and the teachers seemed determined to head off any early bouts of Senioritis by assigning boatloads of homework. On top of that, my mom and aunt were both on the committee for the Christmas Eve Costume Ball again this year, which meant that Nick and I, plus all our friends, were automatically drafted into service as well. Joy to the world.

“I don't know,” I told Allie with a sigh. “I keep trying to look at it logically, you know?”

Allie shoved away her list of SAT vocabulary words, almost pushing it into the water ring her soda glass had left behind on the table. “Okay,” she said. “If you want to get all science-nerdy about this and do the whole pro-con thing, think about it this way. Isn't it nice not having to worry about who you're going with to the homecoming dance? Or the Ball? Or the prom?”

“No argument there,” I admitted. “It's
definitely easier not having to worry about those things. Especially since Cam is still always fun to hang out with. No complaints there.” I shrugged and played with my straw. “But is that enough reason to stay with someone? Is it fair to either of us?”

“Of course it is!” Allie exclaimed. “You guys care about each other. That's all that matters. Love conquers all, right?”

“Does it?” I leaned forward, gazing at her across the table. “Seriously, Allie, think about it. After this year, I'll be off to college at least, like, eight hundred miles away. Meanwhile Cam is probably going to wind up staying right here in Wisconsin.”

“So what?” Allie's lower lip jutted out stubbornly. “Lots of people have made that kind of thing work.”

I shrugged. “Okay, granted. But trying to keep up a long-distance relationship through four years of college is bad enough. What happens after that? Our goals and visions of life are just so different.”

“Right, and that's what I've always said makes you guys so perfect together,” Allie said. “Opposites Attract Theory, remember?”

Fine. If she was going to start throwing
her theories in my face, two could play that game.

“Okay, then what about the Testing the Waters Theory?” I asked her. “You know, the one you came up with a while back that says nobody should just glom on to the first guy or girl who ever asks them out on a date. Neither Cam nor I have ever had any other serious relationships. How do we know the grass isn't greener somewhere else?”

“Oh, please.” Allie rolled her eyes. “That theory doesn't apply to you guys.”

“Why not? Besides, most relationships end at some point, especially for people our age. I'm sure there's plenty of statistical evidence about that. Why should I expect to be the exception?”

She frowned. “Why do you have to be so logical about everything?” she said. “Anyway, if you want to break up with Cam, just do it already. I can't stop you.” She stuffed another fry in her mouth, then mumbled, “Even if I do know for a fact that it would be the hugest mistake of your life.”

I didn't bother to argue with her usage of the term
fact
. I already knew that would be pointless.

“It's not that I
want
to break up with him,” I said instead. “I just think it's probably inevitable, that's all. Sad, but necessary.” With that, I decided to back off. It was obvious that Allie was getting kind of upset. She could be pretty sensitive about that sort of thing. “Anyway, give me another word, okay? The Simpson Scholarship won't help much if I blow the verbal on the SAT.”

That much was logical enough not to allow any argument. I knew I could ace the math part of the test even sound asleep and with one hand tied behind my back. However, I was a lot weaker on vocabulary. Luckily Allie is a word whiz. Must be from reading all those self-help books she loves so much. They probably have to get pretty creative to keep coming up with new ways to tell women how to land their dream guys.

“Fine.” Allie pulled the vocab list toward her again and scanned it. “Here are a few words for you. I offer you my sincerest adjuration to abrogate this abstruse and abhorrent aberration. Quit being so contumacious about it, or I shall have to berate you.”

I was still puzzling through that one when the jingle bells hanging on the door
started jangling. Glancing that way, I saw Nick dragging himself into the diner. His face wore the hangdog, depressed look that had become all too familiar over the past week.

“Nick!” Allie waved at him. “Over here.”

He blinked and then shambled over. “Hey,” he said. “What's up?”

“I'm just trying to talk Lexi out of doing something really stupid,” Allie informed him.

Nick flopped into the booth beside me. “So what else is new?” he said with a shadow of his old humor.

“Don't listen to her.” I shot Allie a warning look. Now didn't seem to be the time to involve Nick in a debate about me and Cam. He was depressed enough already. “We're just running some vocabulary words. Want to join in?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Might take my mind off—well, you know.”

“That's true,” Allie said. “I have a theory about that, actually; I'm calling it the Broody Brain Theory. The idea is that if you're filling your mind with new knowledge, you won't have any brain cells left for moping over your love life or whatever.”

I laughed. Normally Nick would've joined in. He loves making fun of Allie's theories almost as much as I do.

But not today. He just sighed deeply and picked at the edge of the table. “It'll take more than a few vocabulary words to take my mind off Rachel,” he mumbled.

I winced.
Pathetic
used to be the last word anyone would ever use to describe Nick. But these days, sadly, it fit him perfectly. I wished there was something I could do to help him snap out of it, but so far he only seemed interested in wallowing.

That brought my mind back to Cam again. It had been bad enough thinking about breaking things off with him before. I hadn't been sure I'd have the heart—or the guts—to actually ever go through with it. If I did, I knew it would take some real finesse. Even if we weren't meant to be a couple, I knew for certain that I always wanted us to be friends. Besides, I didn't want to mess up our tight little group—Allie and Nick would never forgive me if I did. I'd never forgive myself.

But now, watching Nick brood over his ex, the idea of breaking up with Cam seemed even harder to imagine. Nick was
really devastated; who knew how long it would take him to get over Rachel? And he wasn't anywhere near as sweet and sensitive as Cam. How could I possibly put Cam through that kind of heartbreak? How would I ever be able to stand watching him go through that?

“Lexi, are you even listening to me?” Allie's annoyed voice broke into my thoughts. “Because I really didn't think that
ruminate
was that hard a word.”

“Sorry. Um,
ruminate
means to think something over.”

“Right,” Allie said.

Nick glanced over at me. “Way to ruminate your way through that one, science geekette,” he said, once again sounding almost like his old self for a second. “Maybe you'll be able to get that verbal score within two hundred points of the math one after all.”

I laughed, doing my best to push all ruminations about Cam out of my head, at least for the moment. What was the hurry, anyway? This wasn't a bio lab with a time limit. Just because I'd identified a possible problem didn't mean I had to rush out and solve it right away.

One afternoon a couple of weeks later, Cam came over to help me prep for my Simpson Scholarship interview, which was scheduled for the following day. I have to admit, I was a little tense about it. Verging on hysterical.

“What if I screw this up?” I asked him for about the tenth time, pacing back and forth across my living room. “What if I don't get the scholarship?”

He was splayed out on the big squishy beige couch. My parents were both out, so we had the place to ourselves aside from Blitzen, the family cat, who was sleeping on the couch beside Cam. Sitting up carefully to avoid jostling the cat—she could be cranky when awakened suddenly—Cam gave me that easy smile that always made me feel a little calmer.

“Chill out, Lexi,” he said. “You're going to do great tomorrow. Mrs. Simpson will love you.”

“But what if she doesn't?” I argued, still pacing. “I might, you know, forget myself and accidentally blurt out the F-word or something.”

He laughed out loud at that. “Right,”
he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I'm sure that's really likely to happen.”

“Okay, maybe not.” I sighed and ran both hands through my hair, even though I knew that always made me end up looking like Bozo the Clown. “This is just so important, you know?”

“I know.”

I stopped pacing and stared down at him. “Do you?” I asked. “I mean, you never really seem to think about the future much. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“We've talked about this before, Lexi.” He reached for my hand and pulled me down until I was sitting beside him. Blitzen woke up and shot me a baleful look before slinking off. “I'll get my degree, then probably look for a job where I can learn the restaurant business from the bottom up. Maybe open a little place of my own someday.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, “but have you ever noticed that your goals and mine—well, they don't exactly match?”

“I guess.” He didn't sound terribly concerned. “But why worry about that before we have to? The future will take care of itself. We just need to try to be happy now and figure out the rest when it comes.”

I gritted my teeth. “Are you kidding?” I cried. “That sounds like one of Allie's crazy theories or something. What if the future
doesn't
work itself out? What then?”

He just shrugged. “I don't know. It always does, though.”

Almost everything about Cam was great. But that default attitude of his—
oh well, it'll work itself out
—always made me crazy, even when he was just talking about finding a parking spot or something. But this time it was much worse. This time he was talking about our whole future.
My
whole future. How could he be so infuriatingly casual about it?