Before The Snow Falls | Holiday Novella

The Netflixer

Ithaca, New York

2019

"Okay," I said, drawing the word out dramatically. "Nora is totally into Felix! She said she left her heart in Hertford. Why won't she go back?"

Hale chuckled, setting the letter down on my coffee table. He leaned back into the couch, throwing an arm on top of the cushions and said, "It isn't like she can just hop on a flight and be there in a day, Lana. It could take up to two weeks to reach England from New York, and that's if she could get on a steamship. Steamships were still relatively exclusive in the 1860s, though both Nora and Felix seem like they could afford it."

Obviously, I knew that Nora wasn't going to be able to fly to England. But I had honestly forgotten just how long it would take for her to make the journey. After considering Hale's words, I said, "I suppose that's how long it would take for the letter to arrive from New York as well. I can't imagine how frustrating it would be to send a letter like this and then have to wait that long for a reply."

Hale nodded, acknowledging my words. With a sharp laugh, he replied, "Today, all you gotta do to let someone know you like them is swipe left on Tinder."

"You swipe right," I pointed out, not being able to repress a grin.

One eyebrow rose on Hale's face as he turned to look at me. "Lana Graham knows her way around a dating app? I never would have guessed."

The words came out straight with no trace of sarcasm, so I laughed lightly and shot back, "What is that supposed to mean? I have to find men somehow."

Hale snorted and glanced away. "Like it's really that difficult for you."

"You'd be surprised," I muttered. Suddenly feeling a little awkward, I took a deep sip of my coffee. It was now lukewarm, but I continued drinking just to keep my mouth busy. When I eventually put the mug down and looked up again, Hale was staring at me, a look of exasperated disbelief on his face.

"What?" I asked, my voice coming out as some kind of nervous laughter. "It's true! I haven't dated anyone since Jack. And that was junior year of college."

Hale made a face at the mention of my ex. "He was a dickwad."

"I thought you liked him!" I exclaimed, surprised that he thought that. Hale had never said anything bad about Jack before. I dated the guy for about 6 months before I realized we just weren't a good match; Jack was a Boston College athlete and liked partying. I liked Netflix.

Hale just shrugged and said, "Of course you thought that. You were happy, and so I wasn't going to say anything."

I threw my hands up onto his shoulders and shook them a little bit. "Hale, I wasn't really happy. I'm counting on you to tell me when I'm dating assholes!"

Frowning, Hale cocked his head to the side and asked, "Was he really an asshole to you?"

I dropped my arms from his shoulders and let them fall into my lap. Mumbling, I replied, "At the end of our relationship, he was. He told me I was boring, and he would always go out, leaving me behind. I'm pretty sure he cheated on me." I shrugged, trying to act like I didn't care anymore. I knew Jack was just a loser jock, but for some reason, his judgment of me still stung.

Sneaking a glance at Hale, I realized his expression had changed. His mouth had pulled into a tight line, and his brows were furrowed over darkened eyes. "Shit, Lana," he said. "I didn't realize he was treating you like that."

"It isn't your fault," I said automatically, but then paused. "If you didn't realize he was a jerk to me, then why didn't you like him?

Hale suddenly straightened, and his concerned face wiped blank. Standing up from the couch, he began to walk toward the kitchen. "I just don't like jocks, you know?" he said casually, turning back to glance at me. "Do you have any more coffee made?"

I wasn't going to let his dismissal of the topic go unrecognized. "I actually didn't know that you don't like jocks, Hale." I watched him as he walked to the coffee pot and peered inside it. Noticing that it was still plenty full, he began helping himself to a cup, taking another one of my Christmas mugs from the cupboard and filling it.

I didn't care that he hadn't waited for a reply about the coffee before grabbing some. I did care that he seemed to be avoiding my eye contact. Was there something else about Jack that I hadn't noticed? Maybe something that Hale was trying to protect me from knowing?

Hale was busying himself with the coffee, being extremely meticulous as he measured sugar and cream to stir in.

Giving up on getting anything else out of him, I sighed and said, "Well, next time, give me a heads up if you think my boyfriend is an asshole."

Hale picked up his prepared cup of coffee and leaned against the countertop. Taking a sip of the steaming liquid, his brown eyes didn't leave me. Finally, he smirked and said, "Next time, huh?"

"Yes, next time." I rolled my eyes. "I'm not going to stop dating because of one dickhead."

Hale nodded and began to walk back toward me. "Fair enough," he said with a slight laugh. "Next time, I will be certain to tell you if your boyfriend is an asshole."

"Thanks," I said, but grimaced. I shouldn't need Hale to tell me when a guy isn't worth my time. I should be able to figure it out myself, but somehow I never managed to get it right when it came to dating.

"Lana?"

I looked up, realizing that Hale was hovering above me now, clutching his coffee cup with both hands.

"Yes?"

"You're not boring," he said simply.

"I do watch a lot of Netflix," I admitted, and Hale shrugged.

"Who doesn't?" He sat down on the couch so that his back was resting against the armrest, and he was facing me. He stretched his legs out so that they were almost touching where mine curled up beneath me. I twisted so that my position mirrored his and leaned my head on the top of the couch.

Soft, brown hair had fallen over the corner of Hale's left eye, and I resisted the urge to push it back. One time in high school, he let me put his hair in a man bun as a joke, and I remember thinking how smooth it was in my hands. Did it still feel the same way?

I think I was just jealous of his hair, as bizarre as that might sound. His soft hair and those goddamn eyelashes. It honestly wasn't fair how long they were.

Hale cleared his throat after taking a sip of his coffee, and I realized that I was staring.

"Did you see that the next letter from Felix doesn't come from England?" he asked once he had gotten my attention.

I lifted my head off the couch. "What do you mean? Where does it come from?"

He leaned forward, grabbing the next letter off of the table and handing it to me. "It's from Boston."

"Boston?" I repeated in surprise, before looking at the scrawled letters at the top of the page. I squinted at it. It was challenging to read; the words were so slanted. Ridiculous.

I handed it back to Hale. "Can you read it aloud?" I asked. He was used to reading things like this, right?

Hale smiled, taking the parchment from me. "With pleasure."