Kiss It Better
I look over at Yasmin like she’s lost her mind as I tape up another line of tinsel over the napkins and straws.
“How could you hate Christmas, you cuckoo bird?” I ask. “It’s like, the cheeriest, happiest, friendliest—”
“Annoyingest—”
“Most annoying,” I correct her.
“Like you.” She smirks, pointing a finger at me. “Annoyingest time of year.”
I faux-gasp, placing a hand over my gaping mouth. “Sinful!”
“Oh, shut up! Everyone is running around pretending to like each other, pretending to be cheery, pretending they don’t all want to kill each other over politics and religion every five seconds—”
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