...and a partridge in a pear tree

[03] three french hens

[in which your character meets somebody who doesn't celebrate christmas]

        Holly was met by a tired Luke Ebenezer in English class, his being slumped, defeated, over his desk as he attempted to open his back pack. She chuckled at him.

        “Luke? Luke, are you okay?”

        He didn’t reply, barely lifted his head. Grinning, Holly snapped her fingers in his face. Slowly, agonizingly, he lifted her eyes towards her.

        “Hi,” he croaked, clearing his throat. Holly quirked an expectant eyebrow. 

        “Are you alright? You doknow that we have to continue The Hunt today, right?” she walked to her seat in front of his, placing her bag on the floor. “Are you up for it?”

        Luke nodded his head quickly, his enthusiasm catching Holly off guard. Noticing her surprised expression, he tried masking it with nonchalance.

        “Yeah yeah, I’m fine,” he sat up in his seat, cracking his neck in the process. Holly grimaced, though her smile remained.

        Successfully attaining the second item on her list meant that today marked the beginning of their search for the third thing - three French hens. She figured finding the French hens would be hard; she lived in the city after all. The term ‘French hen’ wasn’t even punny of metaphorical like her finds often were.

        “So, what’s on the list today?” Luke asked, his excitement downplayed for Holly’s benefit. He would never admit to anyone how much fun he had with Holly Mistletoe; not even himself.

        “Three French hens,” Holly sighed. “But I don’t know where we could find that…” 

        “A farm,” he said almost immediately, staring at Holly oddly. “How could you not think of that?”

        “A farm? Luke, where is there a farm around here? It would take us forever to get there! Have you forgotten we live in the city?”

        “Don’t you want to get this crossed off?” Luke shrugged. She mock gasped in his direction, shaking her head.

        “I most certainly do, Mr. Scrooge; don’t ever doubt my dedication to this holiday!” she exclaimed, causing the boy to chuckle.

        “You’re too much, Holly Mistletoe.”

        She rolled her eyes; she may have been ‘too much’, but that insignificant fact didn’t bring her any closer to her precious French hens or a goddamn farm for crying out loud. Holly didn’t even know if there was a farm within an hour of Toronto, though Luke quickly assured her doubt.

        “I always see a farm when I go to my brother’s workplace,” Luke said. “He can take us.”

        “You have an older brother?” Holly widened her eyes. Did he happen to look like Luke? Luke was, as stated earlier, unfortunately quite attractive, but now an older brother? Holly wasn’t sure her heart would be able to handle it.

        He nodded, “I most certainly do,” he smirked; he was well aware of the fact that his family was as steamy as her hot cocoa on Christmas Eve (with personalities as cold as her Egg Nog), and knew one of his brother’s smolders would have Holly weak in the knees and breathless. Of course he’d then turn around and open his plump lips, his words causing Holly to curse the Ebenezer name for centuries.

        This was sure to be interesting.

. . .

        The two ‘friends’ (if they were close enough now to call each other that) were outside in front of their high school, sitting on the snow covered steps. The snow had long since seeped through Holly’s jeans, though she didn’t seem to mind.