Holiday Reads: Christmas Poems & Stories

Unlucky Christmas by gabycabezut

It's that time of the year in which little lights sparkle and Christmas decorations glitter all around and you are finally able to enjoy Christmas carols at the highest volume without getting weird looks from people around you.

Magic is all everywhere.

It's when friends and families gather together and enjoy the most delicious meals and cookies treating themselves with sparkling bubbly wine and everyone feels merry and whatnot.

I love Christmas.

That warm feeling that runs through you as you place the last glittery sphere on the tree, while listening to Michael Bubble's jazzy Christmas music on the background. It's my favorite season of the year.

There's only one thing that obscures such fairy-tale time. It's absolutely horrendous. It totally spoils Christmas for me. Especially in the office. God, the office.

Every year, you have to write your name on a small piece of paper and throw it on a shiny glass bowl along with the rest of the crew. Our boss, Mr. Smith, with those chubby hands of his, holds the bowl and churns it as we all try to follow with our eyes the little piece you wrote hoping, praying, that it falls to the ground with each spin so you can free yourself of such torture. His smile is so wide as if he's mocking each and all of us to defy him on this ultimate torture.

Ok. I may have overstated the whole spinning thing for everyone. Or the mocking smile. Mrs. Smith is in fact a nice person, once you get pass the cold demeanor. He is indeed, shy.

In my defense, it feels like torture knowing that your name could end up in the hands of pimple Barry, evil Janice or absent Louis. Their nicknames pretty much sum their personality. Or lack of.

Take Barry for example. He is a walking pimple. Literally. It's so hard to talk to him because all I can see are those ugly, yucky pimples of his. Sometimes, I feel bad for him, but then I notice him looking at my chest instead of my face and I feel like smashing my files on his face. But they're usually important and I wouldn't want to touch anything that has been in contact with his face. It's just gross.

Janice...well, the girl is basically an evil bitch. She works right next to me and we totally hate each other but we try to conceal it in the fakest way. She's stubborn, vicious and back-stabbing. She wants my job and has been trying quite hard to achieve that for the last two months since I got my promotion. I hate her guts.

Absent Louis is that. Absent. He's within the law department and has supposedly worked with us for the last three months but I have never seen him. He handles all the lawsuits and such. The only means of communication he uses is email. He's pretty much nonexistent.

While Mr. Smith keeps spinning the bowl, he always names the object we are going to give and be given to make it fair. Supposedly.

I am the queen of crappy gifts, though.

If we don't get along or I pretty much hate you, you'll probably end up with my name in your hands and vice versa. I've gotten the cheapest chocolates, the ugliest pashmina, the boring coffee mug.

Because that's my freaking Christmas karma.

Every. Single. Year.

So, I do not exaggerate when I say that I do try to follow the ripped piece of paper hoping to get my own name. Nobody would notice, since you're not supposed to say anything and I could leave myself a handful of classy, rich Belgian chocolates every day until the last day before the holidays. And I'd totally skip the stupid Christmas party.

Of course that never happens. It would require an actual Christmas miracle.

I'm just unlucky like that.

In fact, my name should be unlucky Sarah. Or maybe Sarah, the unlucky queen of crappy gifts. That's more like it.

The spinning of the bowl ends as Mr. Smith announces that this year, we'll exchange books. I want to argue that it's kind of a lame gift seeing that we are a small independent publishing house and exchanging books does not seem like a challenge at all. But then I think that if I get a crappy book, I can just sell it on Amazon and get a nice one so I shut my mouth.

"That's so retro!" Janice's high pitched voice resounds throughout the office. She smiles confidently at Mr. Smith and pats the plump man on his shoulder. I so want to gag at that. "That's such an excellent idea!" she keeps commenting like this year's gift exchange is the best thing ever.

My stomach clenches as my eyes travel around the small office to find the sparkly silver Starbucks coffee mug she got last year. Ugh. Yes. She was my recipient. Yoo-hoo.

I'd gotten that mug hoping that I'd get one as pretty as that. But I obviously didn't. Pimple Barry had given me stupid old-plain boring mug. It didn't have anything at all. Oh. And he'd tried to grab my boob while he was at it.

While Janice was still gushing about how smart and unconventional Mr. Smith was (double gag), I leaned over Marty, my assistant, "what on earth is she going on about?" I whispered softly so he would be the only one to hear me.

We shared the same aversion towards Janice. He rolled his eyes. I suppressed a smile. "Smith said that we had to exchange books written in the nineteenth century." He shrugged, "big deal."

Creasing my brows, I pulled away. Well, I hated to admit it but the old man had outdone himself this year. Many famous titles were written on that time. My favorite books were written then. Maybe I'd get one of the classics. Maybe a first edition. A snort left my mouth, as if. I felt a heated glare my way and I just knew where it was coming from. Janice's blue eyes were narrowed as I smiled innocently at her.

The dreaded moment where you were supposed to take out the paper came. With a shaky hand, I pulled out one crumpled piece and put it in my pocket to read it later.

Please don't be Janice. Please don't be Barry. Please don't.

I could take absent Louis. I could. Not Barry nor Janice.

The small paper was burning a hole in my pocket by the time I arrived home. I was just dreading the outcome; I was sure it was one or the other and I wasn't ready to read their name. Not after the awful day I'd have.

Opening a bottle of wine, I took a seat on the small sofa in front of the TV before my hand reached out for the feared wrinkled paper. Holding my breath, I unfolded the paper to read the name.

Janice.

Of course. I rolled my eyes and crumpled the stupid paper before tossing it to the other side of the room.

A grumpy sigh left my lips. Christmas exchanges suck. Big time.

The worst part was that each year, my heart would swell with hope that I'd be getting a nice gift. I would search for the prettiest mug or the trendiest pashmina because that's what I wanted to get and I always figured that since this was the sharing-loving season, I'd get the same. I never had.

Seeing that it was my second year in a row to get Janice, my Christmassy spirit had quite evaporated when it came to the office's Christmas exchange. Especially to Janice.

The days passed as I was swamped with work. Today was the last day at the office and we'd be doing the dreadful exchange at the end of the day. By the way, Janice was getting Dracula. Because she was a blood-sucking monster and I was pretty sure that was the last kind of books she liked to read. I really wanted to be ruthless for once. I'd even gone and found a cute Halloween theme wrapping paper to go along with the book. It was white and covered with red stains, pretending to be blood.

A wide smile formed in my face as I peeked at the gift stashed in my handbag. She was so going to hate it.

After dark, everyone gathered in the common room. Just wanting to get it over with, I grabbed my bag and stepped towards the full room. Classical Christmas carols played in the background, a large bowl brimming with pretzels was on the middle of the room and a large coke was on the right corner next to red plastic cups.

Mr. Smith had outdone himself.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Mild chatting filled the room as I nibbled on a pretzel thinking which movie I'd be watching in back at home. Clearing his throat, my boss started his already known Christmas speech about working together as a team and succeeding together as one. Blah blah blah. Same speech as always.

Don't get me wrong, he wasn't such a bad boss. He was just not the social kind. He probably dreaded this moment as much as I did. I had a good guess that the skimpy appetizer and coke had the purpose to make us want to leave as fast as we could. It worked like a charm.

Each and all of us had our turn to give out our gift. Janice's face when she got mine was priceless. I think she had gotten my message quite clearly this time. And I had to fight the urge to smirk at her. My sudden burst of pride was wiped away when everyone stopped exchanging gifts and I was left without one.

Because absent Louis had gotten my name...and he was...absent.

I kind of felt bad when everyone stayed quiet, all holding their books in their hands. But I sort of knew that something like this would happen, so I brushed the looks away and grabbed another pretzel as if nothing had happened.

Half an hour later, I was ready to leave. Scurrying away, I trotted to my office to grab my coat and bag when I heard steps behind me. A nagging feeling washed over me. "For the last time Barry, I do not want to go out with you," I voiced without turning around, fetching my cell phone out of my first drawer.

A dark chuckle startled me. Barry didn't have a dark voice. "I can't say I'm sorry for Barry. He is a nasty thing," deep British accent rolled off the words. I turned around and my heart leapt in my chest at the man in front of me. He was really tall. Soft brown waves encased his face. An old day subtle beard covered his cheeks, strong chiseled features traced his face. He was wearing a grey suit with a white shirt and looked completely worn out after a hard day of work. But the most intriguing part of him were those hazel eyes. They were large and deep. And were staring right at me.

Warily, I placed the phone in my bag. "I'm- "

"Sarah," he finished for me. A small lopsided smile playing on his lips. "I know. I'm Louis," he reached out his hand, "and I'm apparently late for the exchange." My eyes turned to his left hand, where he was holding a brown paper bag. "Sorry, "he frowned at the paper bag. "I didn't have time to wrap it properly."

Dang. That deep accent of his was making my stomach churn uneasily.

"Thank you," I reached out for it as he held it closer to him. Bemused at his behavior, I awkwardly dropped my hand.

His eyes held a mischievous glint. "I will give it to you under one condition." I raised an eyebrow while crossing my arms in front of my chest. "Let me buy you a drink and then you can have it." Before I opened my mouth to answer, he leaned closer and in a small whisper he added, "I promise I'm not as bad as Barry."

A light chuckle left my lips. "Ok. Just one drink."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Just one."

Gathering my things, I turned to him. "Are you going to say hello to the others?"

He shook his head, "Nah. I'm not in the mood to talk to evil..." My heart skipped a beat at his words. He caught on and a sheepish smile crossed his face, "I'm used to put the person's trait before their name. And well," he cleared his throat, "Janice is not the nicest one, you know?" he looked at me playfully before I cracked up at that.

"I do. I call her the same way."

He laughed with me. "You do?" I shrugged. We'd reached the elevator by now, "how do you call me?" his brows were furrowed as he pushed the last button on the wall.

A smirk formed in my lips. "Absent Louis."

Chuckling, he shook his head. "You're good."

Curiously, I tilted my head. "What about me? How do you call me?"

That lopsided smile formed on his face. The elevator's door opened and he gestured for me to go on. "Does Harry's seem fine for you? It's two blocks away from here." He'd swiftly avoided my question. I narrowed my eyes at him before nodding. Satisfied at my answer, his strides turned more forceful as he gained speed. Without wanting to be left behind, I fastened my pace.

"Where are you from?" I asked trying to make conversation as we crossed the street.

"Birmingham," a fleet smile flashed through his face. Figures. I did enjoy that accent of his, though. I kept that to myself.

We reached the small pub by now. Louis opened the door for me. Harry's was small but it was completely overcrowded. Probably due to the holidays. We had to push ourselves among the crowd and were lucky to find a couple of guys getting up from the last booth on the corner. After taking a seat, Louis left to get something to drink without really asking me what I wanted.

Quite peeved at this, I couldn't but notice that he was still carrying the paper bag. Curiosity got the best of me. What book was he carrying around for me?

Setting a glass of red wine in front of me, my bemused eyes followed his every move as he sat on the facing seat. "How did you know I like red wine?"

He suppressed a smile before unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. "When I got your name," he sipped on his beer, "I googled you." He shrugged, "when you have a blog, it's easy to get to know you."

Huh. I haven't told anyone about my blog. I'd started it out a few weeks ago and I was trying to help unknown authors by reviewing their books and such. The word had spread out on the writer's community and now I was looking out for people who liked to read as much as I did.

"So," I shifted on my seat, "can I get my book now?"

He cracked up at that. "You haven't finished your wine."

I rolled my eyes when a thought popped into my head. "Wait. You didn't get a gift."

"I did." He tipped his beer. "Marty got me an Amazon card. He sent it yesterday." Of course he did. Marty was the most practical guy.

"So, absent Louis," a devilish smile played in my face, "why all the mystery?"

He laughed at me. "I'm not mysterious. At all. I just have to be down in court most of the time. Besides, Janice is my liaison..." he made a face at that. "She's not cool." He finished up shaking his head as I chuckled. "I'm glad I didn't get her."

I cringed. "I did." Raising two fingers I added, "twice in a row."

"Ouch."

"Tell me about it." I shook my head with a small smile on my face. "However, I'm sure this year she wasn't so happy." Louis looked at me quizzically so I had to tell him about the last three years. How I'd been so unlucky to get the worst presents and about her Dracula book. All to the finest detail, like the wrapping paper thingy.

As I finished, Louis was on his second beer. "Dracula is a great book. She should be pleased to get it."

"I thought the same thing," I shrugged as I finished my wine.

Louis intent eyes were on mine as I placed the glass back on the table. "Well, unlucky Sarah," he mocked my nickname, "I'm hoping this Christmas you'll get lucky." He raised an eyebrow while my cheeks flushed at his innuendo.

"You're hilarious," I muttered blushing like crazy.

"Merry Christmas," he placed the paper bag in front of me.

My heart fluttered at the intensity behind those hazel eyes. Shyly, I took the book out of the bag. My lips parted as my eyes widened. "Pride and prejudice?" the book's corners looked aged and my heart started to thump inside my chest as I opened the cover. It was a third edition but that wasn't what caught my attention. It was the yellow post it placed beneath the title.

Would you go out with me? –L.

I looked up to see that lopsided smile again. "What?"

"I've been reading your blog over the last few days. You're brilliant and passionate. I already knew you were beautiful since I saw you at the office a while ago. So, when you ranted out yesterday about the Christmas exchange, I knew we were meant for each other." He smirked at me. "Or you know, at least we'd have fun over dinner."

I cracked up at that. "You sure are something, absent Louis."

He leaned on his elbows. With piercing eyes, he murmured, "I'm definitely not absent, beautiful Sarah." My heart skipped a beat. "So," he pulled back, "Dinner? Tomorrow at eight?"

I bit my lip, "you got me Pride and Prejudice. I can't say no to that!"

His eyes sparkled mischievously, "I knew that would do the trick."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. "Thank you."

He bobbed his head. "We are breaking your Christmas curse, Sarah. I promise you."

My mouth went dry.
I knew he just did.