All Madison wants for Christmas is the same person who once wanted her. Free from the shackles of her broken heart, she's finally ready to give love another shot. But is Madi too late to win back the man of her dreams?
SEQUEL to The Heartbreak Hypot...
A/N: Comment of last chapter goes to everyone who said they'd get Madi some form of therapy for Christmas.
You're not wrong.
Also, ✨DOUBLE UPDATE!✨ This was supposed to be one chapter, but you know me—I can't stick to a word limit to save my life.
Danielle x
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"He's being a total tool about it!" Camila rolled her eyes to the pastel evening sky and back, pausing only to jam an overstuffed burrito into her mouth. "I'm just trying to spice the place up a little. A new paint job will benefit both of us," she exclaimed, still chewing on her rice and beans. "That's why we have a bond in the first place!"
I didn't have the heart to tell her that that was not, in fact, the reason why landlords required tenants to leave a bond in the first place.
I smiled sympathetically. "As I said, I'm not a lawyer, so I can't give you legal advice."
Despite it being the fourth time that I'd told her that—not to mention the fourth time that she'd told me about her mounting troubles with the law—Holly's best friend looked incredibly disappointed at the reminder.
But her dark almond eyes flashed again, and she leaned forward in her seat. "Well, what about this? So, I have this ... friend—"
I sighed and nodded cordially, letting my attention drift over her head to the scene on the street. One thing that I've learned about studying pre-law is that everyone seems to have a 'friend'with their own bucket load of legal problems.
Legal problems that somehow cornered me at parties and tried to become my problem.
We hadn't planned to make another pit-stop so soon after the mall. We were already due at the resort a day later than we'd originally planned. But then the Tapias invited us to stay for dinner when we dropped Holly off.
As it turned out, declining an invitation from Holly's abuela is a rather futile feat.
Especially when that abuela has been prepping all week for her annual posada.
Especially once my three friends found out that the aforementioned posada included an all-you-can-eat Mexican buffet.
Long story short, keeping our schedule lost out to three hours of pilgriming, piñatas, ponche, and tamales.
Not that I was complaining. Too much.
"Mila?" Holly's head popped over the fence separating her parents' house from her tía's.
Her entire avenue—which basically consisted of her entire family—had been sectioned off for the party. Neighbors weaved in and out of each other's houses while the festivities spilled out onto the street, tea lights and candles casting a warm yellow glow over the cobblestone pavement.
