Harry Baby

Chapter 2

I drive out to the local supermarket to get a few things. A few pieces of chicken such suffice, and maybe some vegetables on the side. Hot chocolate sounds good, too. My mom gave me some money to order pizza or something. It's still snowing slightly. Other than that, conditions aren't too bad. The roads haven't been plowed yet, but my car isn't sliding.

I put the Christmas Station on the radio on and Snoopy's Christmas starts to play through the car. "Christmas bells, those Christmas bells/ Ring out from the  land/ Bringing peace throughout the world/ And good will toward man," I tap the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

Jessica loves this song. She sings it so obnoxiously, it's kind of cute.

The song is just ending as I pull into the supermarket parking lot. I pick up one of the baskets and start towards the milk. Luckily, there's one carton left. Just as I reach for it, another hand does, too.

"I'm sorry," says a deep, British voice.

"It's okay. You can take it," I say letting go and turning to walk away.

"You take it," he says handing the carton.

"Um, thank you," I say awkwardly grabbing it.

"No problem," he says putting his hands in his hands in his pockets and going to turn around. "Quick question," he says turning around again, "What is a gorgeous girl like you doing at a supermarket on Christmas Eve?"

That's strange.

"I'm picking a few things up for dinner," I answer awkwardly.

"How come you're not out having fun? Why can't you're parents worry about dinner?" he slowly advances toward me.

"They're at a party."

"And you're not?"

"I had to wrap presents and pretend to be Santa."

"You know, I'm on my way to meet a friend for dinner. Why don't you join me?"

"Because I just met you," I say trying to leave, "and I don't even know you're name."

"I'm Harry," he holds out his hand. "Now you do," he has a coy smile on his face. "Please join me. I don't like to like about pretty girls being home alone on Christmas Eve." he holds his hand out again.

"What does it matter you anyway?"

"I didn't like it when I was alone two years ago."

"You spent Christmas Eve alone?" "Yeah. It was snowing and my flight was cancelled, so I spent my holiday in a hotel room with room service to keep me company," he chuckles a bit at the end.

"That stinks," I say starting to feel bad for him.

"My family made up for it when I finally got home. So, will come to dinner with me?"

I consider his offer.

"I'll pay for the milk," he raises an eyebrow.

"It's still weird," I say.

"How?" he questions.

"I'm literally being invited to dinner by a stranger," I answer.

"Are you always this stubborn when someone is trying to be nice?" he asks.

"Under normal circumstances, I would have walked away," I say.

"Then why didn't you?"

"I don't know, but I should have," I say trying to leave.

"Come on," he grabs my shoulder.

"Do you really want to go home just to wrap presents while your parents are out at party?"

I don't say anything, or even turn around.

"It sounds to me like you're more of a parent than they are. That's not really fair now is it?" he says sincerely.

"No it's not." I turn around. "But life isn't fair now is it," I counter.

"It's not fair that your being forced to grow up too fast," he says.

"What makes you think I'm growing up too fast?"

He's not wrong. I did have to grow up fast. That's why I try so hard to keep my sisters young. Childhood is no fun when you have to rush through it.

"How old are you?" That's a bit off topic.

"Eighteen," I answer.

"Most eighteen year olds aren't trying to be Santa for their younger siblings," he says.

"How did you know I had younger siblings?" I question him.

"Because why else would you have to Santa?" he fires quickly.

"You're smarter than you look," I comment.

"Why thank you," he says with that coy smile again.

"The answer is still no," I say.

"You sure?" he raises his eyebrow again.

"Yes."

"Positive?"

"Yes."

"Why do sense that you're lying?"

"Because I am," I confess.

"So that a yes?" he asks again.

"Yes," I say with a small smile.