Christmas Carols

t h r e e

"Are you okay?!"

  "I just slipped and landed on my ass, what do you think?"

"You would think that you would lose the attitude when you're clearly in pain," Stella says, rolling her eyes at me.

She pulls her hand out and helps me up, looking at me from head to toe, mostly at my butt, when I turn and stand up.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I was just looking you over to make sure you didn't have any injuries."

"You were looking at my ass."

"Exactly! You can get injuries anywhere," she quickly tells me.

"Sure."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just stings a little but I'm sure I'm okay."

"Stings? Did you it somehow cut you through your pants?"

I shrug and looks down at my jeans, inspecting them for any possible rips.

"Here," she says, pointing to my thigh.

I pull at the cloth and sure enough, it easily pulls apart since it was ripped through. I frown at the cut in my thigh and curse my clumsiness for getting me a bruise.

"That'll leave a bruise," I say.

"Do you want me to help get you home?"

"Yes, I want someone to protect me," I say, feeling a tinge of red spread across my cheeks.

I blame it on the cold.

"Let's go then," she says and she takes my hand, helping me walk home.

**************

  I catch sight of my home and feel a twinge of sadness that I'll have to let go of Stella's warm hand.

  "No, nope. Don't even, Scarlet," I say to myself.

  "Don't what?"

  "Nothing. We're back now, you don't have to deal with protecting me anymore."

  "But I liked it," she says, giving me an honest smile.

  I blush at her comment, and I take my silver keys out of my pocket to open the house door. I let go of her hand and use it to open the door and get inside.

  She comes in too.

  "I'll help you get up the stairs," she tells me.

  "Listen, I appreciated the help but you really don't have to do this."

  "I want to help. Where's your kitchen? I'll go get a pack of ice for your thigh."

  I weakly point to the kitchen and I accept that Stella, who is very stubborn, is going to help me whether I like it or not. She comes back with an ice pack in her hand and places her free hand on my back, sending an electric jolt through my body.

  "Here's one step... and another... you're doing great!"

  "I never thought I would get this much encouragement for walking up the stairs."

  "Well, now you have. You're welcome."

   I point her to my bedroom and open the door for myself, where she leads me in. She helps me rest on the bed and puts a pillow under my thigh to elevate it, putting the ice pack on it.

  "Do you feel better?"

  "Yes. Very."

  This was not the way I expected having a girl in my bedroom.

  I sigh with a bit of disappointment but I'm happy that she's still here anyways, keeping me company. She stands there and seems as if she doesn't know exactly what to do next.

  "You can leave if you want. I won't feel offended— you've helped me too much already."

  "Nope, I am not leaving until you feel great. Do you have a chair that I can sit on?"

  I impulsively say, "you don't need to get a chair. You can rest on my bed next to me."

  "Are you sure that's fine?"

  "Yes. It's amazing, now jump on! Well, don't jump... I'll probably find a way to fall so just gently get on the bed."

  "You talk a lot."

  "Sorry."

  "No, I honestly think it's cute."

   I feel a tint of red power over my face and I finally ask, "why did you help me?"

  "I think you know why."

  "Why?" I ask again.

  "For the same reason you texted me. You wanted a girlfriend, and I knew I could move this along faster."

  "I always thought I was a bit more subtle."

  "Not exactly," she says, adding a laugh.

  "Your laugh is music to my ears," I say both sarcastically but truthfully.

  "I would think that you would say my singing is actual music to your ears, but I guess my laughing is good too."

  I suddenly recall that she's a caroler and I smack my head, angry at myself for ignoring my hate for Christmas and getting to know her.

  "Can you leave?" I ask her.

  "What? I thought you felt the same way as I do."

  "Please. Just leave."

  She's clearly upset when she says, "Bye then, I'll see you another time."

  She gets out of my bed and wordlessly leaves without turning around to give a small wave.

  It's for the better. I can't get involved with some Christmas fanatic.