Allie Calvin is the oldest and only daughter of Scott Calvin. She was 15 when her father puts on the suit. Allie Calvin is nothing like her brother. She doesn't believe in Santa, she doesn't believe in magic, and she doesn't believe in elves. Allie...
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Allie found herself sitting in a chair, buried in a book when Bernard stormed in.
His curls were flying around wildly, and he looked as if he had just come from a fight with a Polar bear. His eyes were wide, scanning the room with an urgency that made Allie sit up a bit straighter, a smile threatening to break out on her face. He rifled through the cushions on the couch, digging through them as if he were searching for buried treasure.
"What's wrong?" Allie asked, tilting her head in curiosity.
"Have you seen my hat?" Bernard's voice broke through the air, slightly frantic.
Allie had to stop herself from chuckling; she knew exactly where it was. Just that morning, before he woke up, she had plucked it off his bedside table, and tucked into the chair she was sitting on, the only reason being because she was bored. Instead of admitting that, she shook her head, feigning innocence. "Nope, can't say that I have."
Bernard went back to his searching, his brow furrowed, white-knuckled as he gripped the back of the couch. "Will you at least help me look for it?" he asked. "I can't not wear my hat. I look stupid."
"Well, I think you look quite nice without it!" she said, the compliment rolling off her tongue as effortlessly as the sunlight that flowed into the room.
As if she had flicked a switch, Bernard's cheeks flushed a vivid crimson. He stuttered, words tripping over themselves as he struggled to respond. "Uh, I—I mean, thanks! It's just, uh..."
Allie couldn't help but snicker at his embarrassment. She stood up, the book slipping from her lap as she walked toward him. No longer able to resist the playful urge, she pulled his hat from behind her back—having pulled it out of the spot from being tucked in the chair—and held it out to him, the sun gleaming off the soft fabric.
"Here," she said, the smile on her face brightening even more, "I believe this belongs to you."
Bernard reached out, his fingers brushing against hers as he took the hat. The moment felt electric, and for a heartbeat, time suspended around them, leaving only the whisper of their breaths. He glanced up at her, speechless, and that only made Allie's smile widen.
With a playful swish of her hair, she turned and headed into the kitchen. "I'll grab you some cocoa to go with it!" she called back, with a teasing tone, the soft clink of mugs filling the space in-between them.
Once alone again, Bernard stood there for a few moments longer, the hat in his hands, his heart racing in a way it never had before. It wasn't just the mystery of where it had been; it was the way Allie had looked at him, the way she had made him feel.
As Allie hummed softly to herself in the kitchen, Bernard slipped the hat onto his head, feeling both grounded and utterly confused. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, determined to shake off the apprehension that buzzed beneath his skin. If she wanted to tease, he could play the game too. With a slight smile spreading across his red face, he followed her into the kitchen, waiting for his chance to strike back.
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Later that day, having finished the book from that morning, Allie found herself in the living room, standing in front of the shelf in annoyance.
A book sat on a higher shelf, and of course, that had to be the one Allie wanted to read it. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching high, her fingertips brushing against the spine of the book, yet it remained just out of reach. She could feel frustration pooling in her chest.
With a clenched jaw, about the shake the bookshelf, Bernard wandered in, his eyes glancing over at her struggle. A grin crossed his face—seeing this as his moment to get back at him. She didn't notice him at first, too consumed by her determination to claim the book.
"Need a hand?" His voice broke through her concentration, trying to keep the teasing out of it.
Allie turned, startled, catching sight of him just behind her. As Bernard stood behind her, her breath caught in her throat. She could feel his warmth, a comforting presence that both thrilled and unnerved her. His hand rested on her side as he stretched. A shiver ran down her spine as she stood frozen, her cheeks staining red.
In one fluid motion, Bernard stretched up, reaching for the book effortlessly. Allie could barely form a thought with how close he was. With a triumphant grin, he retrieved the book, his hand lingering just a moment longer on her side as he handed it to her.
"Here you go," he said, the smile tugging on his lips. The moment felt charged with an unspoken connection that left Allie breathless, words swirling in her mind but she could barely pick them apart.
"Thanks...um... that was, uh—" she stuttered, her thoughts tumbling over one another, flushed with embarrassment.
Bernard chuckled, a bit smug at the sight of her red faced and stumbling over her words. "No problem, Allison. Happy to help." he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Then, with such suddenness it almost startled her, he turned on his heel and headed toward his room, leaving Allie standing there, red-faced and speechless, holding the book she had so desperately wanted.
As Allie watched him walk away, her heart raced. She had desperately tried to form a thought, but was unable to, unable to say anything at all. Why had that moment felt so...different? Why did she feel so weird? That moment seemed to begin to shed light on feelings she had never fully acknowledged.
With the book held tightly in her hands, Allie felt her heart beat faster, and she leaned against the shelf, still feeling the warmth of Bernard's presence. She couldn't help but smile. Maybe she'd be able to pick out her feelings, and she and Bernard could grow whatever it was that was beginning to bloom.
