Noelle's Christmas Crush (9 page)

Andrew rolled his eyes, but he didn't object, and went back to his plate of chicken.

“I won't be long, and then I'm going to make some cheese balls and some other appetizers,” Mr. Winters said. “We've got all night.”

Noelle sighed. “Fine.”

“Well, it is the last weekend before Christmas,” her mom pointed out. “It's normally a very busy weekend for us. But we're making it work. Your party's going to be lovely.”

“Perfect,” Noelle corrected her. “It's going to be perfect.”

“Perfect is a tough word,” Mr. Winters said. “You know, some artists and craftspeople intentionally put a mistake in everything they create. Some do it because they believe that no one or nothing can be perfect, and others think that it makes their works more interesting. So maybe you shouldn't aim for perfect.”

“But I just don't want anything to go
wrong
,” Noelle said. “What's so bad about that?”

“I think your father's got a point,” Mrs. Winters said. “It can't hurt to relax a little bit. You'll probably have a better time.”

“And so will everyone else,” Andrew mumbled.

But the advice didn't sink in. Noelle was too excited. She kept picturing the party over and over again . . . guests arriving in the perfectly decorated room, and then Noel would enter, and smile at her, and Noelle would walk up to him, and . . .

“Noelle, are you listening?” her mom asked. “I was asking what you need me to do after I'm done baking.”

“I still need to finish the favor bags,” Noelle said. “And I was thinking of putting some of the extra violet flowers in the downstairs bathroom. And I want to set out the plates and cups and stuff.”

Mrs. Winters nodded. “Okay, you do the plates and cups and I'll help with the favor bags when I'm done. I picked up a few more things yesterday.”

“All right,” Noelle said. “May I be excused, then?”

“Of course,” Mr. Winters replied.

Noelle helped clear the kitchen after dinner, and a few hours later, the Winters house was a busy hub of activity. Mr. Winters had returned with packages that he whisked up to his bedroom, and was now sliding a pan of cheese balls into the oven. Andrew hid in his room for two hours, but now the sound of the vacuum blared through the house.

Mrs. Winters finished her brownies, and now she and Noelle were sitting at the kitchen table, filling the favor bags. Noelle had taken a lot of time picking out things that both kids and adults would like.

“Tiny box of chocolate. Check,” Noelle said, putting
one in a violet bag. “Lip balm. Check. Violet pen. Check.”

“And I found these,” Mrs. Winters said, opening up a bag of tiny notebooks with silver covers, “to go with the pens.”

“They're perfect!” Nicole exclaimed. “Am I allowed to say that?”

Mrs. Winters grinned. “I think that's all right.”

Noelle filled a bag with all of the items and tied a silver ribbon to close it.

“You know what I like best about these?” Noelle asked.

“You mean besides the fact that they're perfect?” her mom replied, teasing.

“Yes,” Noelle said. “I love them because there's nothing Christmasy in them!”

They finished the favor bags, dusted the furniture, and adjusted the decorations until Noelle was satisfied. When they were almost done, Mr. Winters came into the family room with a hand behind his back.

“I picked up something for you, almost-birthday girl,” he said.

“What is it?” Noelle asked.

Mr. Winters held out his hand. “Ta-da!”

Noelle let out a shriek. “A violet lightbulb!”

“I could only find one,” Mr. Winters said. “But I think it'll give you the effect you want.”

“Let's put it in!” Noelle said, her green eyes shining with excitement.

Her dad screwed the bulb into the lamp next to the couch, and soon the room was bathed in a lovely purple glow.

“Ooh,” Noelle breathed. “That really is perfect!”

She gazed around the room. Everything was just as she had imagined.

“Noelle, I have to admit, it does look pretty perfect,” Mr. Winters said, giving her a squeeze. Then he looked at his watch. “Hey, it's almost eleven. You should get a good night's sleep for your big day tomorrow.”

“I don't think I can sleep,” Noelle said. “This is even better than Christmas Eve.”

“Wow. That's pretty good,” Mr. Winters said. “But do me a favor and try, okay?”

“Okay, Dad,” Noelle said. “And thanks.”

A short while later, Noelle snuggled into bed and stared at the twinkling lights on her tree. She closed her eyes and drifted off, dreaming of her perfect party.

NOELLE WOKE UP THE NEXT
morning, wide awake and excited. Her party wasn't until the afternoon, but she still had to help set up the food, and get dressed, and . . .

She suddenly froze, listening. Everything was so quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet you only hear . . . she ran to the window, her heart beating.

Snow blanketed everything she could see. It was piled up on the roof, mounded on the front lawn, and huge hills of it covered the street outside. There were no cars moving down the street, no people outside—just snow, snow, snow everywhere she looked. Heavy white flakes were pouring from the sky. That's why it was so quiet.

Normally, Noelle loved snow, especially on Christmas. But none of her birthday dreams had included snow.

Panicked, she ran downstairs. Her mom and dad
were awake, drinking coffee in the kitchen and wearing bathrobes. They stared at the small kitchen TV with worried looks on their faces.

“What's going on?” Noelle asked.

Her mom looked at her with a sympathetic frown. “Oh, honey, it's a record-breaking blizzard.”

“A blizzard?” Noelle asked. “I didn't even know it was going to snow!”

Her parents looked at each other. “Well, yesterday they were predicting three inches, so we weren't too worried about it,” Mr. Winters said. “We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to worry either.”

Noelle looked out the back door. The snow was piled as high as the porch railing. She hadn't seen anything like it in years.

“So people can still come, right?” she asked, her voice shaking a little.

“There's a state of emergency,” her mom replied. “They're asking people to stay inside because the roads aren't safe. Some people don't even have power. I'm so sorry, honey, but we have to cancel the party.”

“Nooooooo!” Noelle wailed. “The party's not till five. The roads will be clear by then, won't they?”

Mr. Winters shook his head. “This is a big storm, honey. It could take days before the roads are clear.”

“But it's not fair!” Noelle cried, and then before she could explode into tears, she ran up to her room, slamming the door behind her.

“Stupid snow,” she mumbled, burying her face in her pillow. She felt hot tears sting her eyes, and she struggled to hold them back. She didn't want to end up like one of those girls on
Sixteen and Spoiled
who burst into tears when the balloons were the wrong color or they didn't get the deejay they wanted.

But at least they all got their parties,
she thought miserably.
I don't even get to have mine!

A knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” Noelle called out meekly.

“It's me,” her mom said. “Is it okay if I go to your invitation site and send out an e-mail about the party? Just to make sure nobody is worried about getting here.”

“Fine,” Noelle said flatly.

“Okay then. Dad's starting breakfast,” Mrs. Winters said in a quiet voice, and then she left.

Noelle took her time getting dressed, only heading downstairs when the smell of bacon was too hard to
resist. She carried her laptop with her. Her parents didn't normally let her use it at the table, but she had a feeling that they wouldn't object today.

She was right. As she sat down and opened her laptop, her dad slid a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of her.

“I'm just going to see if anybody replied to the e-mail yet,” Noelle said.

“That's fine, honey,” her dad said.

“I just sent out the e-mail,” her mom said. “So people might not be replying just yet.”

But Noelle found a bunch of replies waiting for her on the site. The first was from Hailey.

Noooooooo! Soooooo sooooorrrrrry!

Alyson wrote next.

That stinks! But you still have to wear your dress today, no matter what.

Noelle wanted to smile at that, but couldn't just yet. She got a few other replies from kids who were sorry, and
her cousin Nick was psyched that he might have a snow day Monday.

Then, to her surprise, she saw a reply from Noel.

You must be so disappointed. But hope you enjoy the snow day and have a great birthday.

Noelle sighed. Leave it to Noel to send a perfect reply. Then she realized, with horror, that her mother was looking over her shoulder.

“That Noel seems like such a nice boy,” she said.

“He is,” Noelle replied, willing herself not to blush. Then she shut her laptop and picked up a piece of bacon.

The reply from Noel helped her feel a little better. How sweet was he? But she hadn't seen anything from Jess. Was her friend still mad at her? She must be, if she didn't reply, Noelle reasoned, and that thought put her in a bad mood again.

Mr. Winters put his coffee cup in the sink and stretched. “Well, at least the snow has stopped. I guess I should get to shoveling the walk—if I can find it.”

“Andrew and I can help you,” Mrs. Winters said, just
as Andrew appeared in the kitchen, yawning.

“Wait, why doesn't Noelle have to help?” Andrew asked.

Mrs. Winters just glared at him, and Andrew shrugged. Noelle was glad that they weren't asking her to help. She didn't feel like going outside in all that stupid party-ruining snow. In fact, she didn't even feel like changing out of her pajamas.

Without a word, she got up and put her breakfast dishes in the sink and headed up to her room. Her parents didn't ask any questions.

Noelle had never felt so “blah” in her life. She climbed into bed, pulled up the covers, and opened her laptop again. For a few minutes she just stared at Noel's reply. She checked her e-mail again, hoping to hear from Jess, but there was nothing. Worried, Noelle texted her.

RU ok? No party today.
Wish u were here.

She waited a few minutes for the little beep of Jess's return text, but it never came. Then, bored, she went back to the laptop and clicked on a computer game where she shot rainbow bubbles out of the sky with lemons over and over and over again. After a while her hand got stiff
and she found herself squinting at the screen, so she reluctantly got out of bed.

She showered and dressed in pink leggings and a sweatshirt, putting on her favorite pair of fluffy slippers. Then her mom knocked on the door and came in, smiling when she saw Noelle.

“Andrew took a walk and said everyone's sledding over at the hill on Mill Street,” her mom reported. “Want to go?”

Noelle shook her head. “No thanks.”

Her mom didn't push it. “Okay, then. We'll be back soon. I don't know how many times I can go up and down that hill.”

Listless for the rest of the day, Noelle read a few chapters of a book she was in the middle of; played a few more games on her laptop; and rearranged her sweater drawer, organizing everything by color. She checked her e-mail a few times, but Jess never replied, and that just put her in a bad mood all over again.

She didn't join her parents and Andrew for cocoa when they got back from sledding. But when Mr. Winters called up that it was time to eat, Noelle's empty stomach led her down the stairs.

The kitchen table was laden with all kinds of food: veggies and dip, chips, deviled eggs, little cucumber sandwiches, and her dad's famous cheese balls.

“I made all this for your party yesterday,” Mr. Winters explained. “And I'd hate for it to go to waste. Besides, I thought it would be kind of fun, right?”

“I guess so,” Noelle said. It definitely was more interesting than sitting down to a regular dinner. But at the same time, it made her a little sad, thinking about all her family and friends who weren't going to get to eat it.

Andrew piled a mound of cheese balls on his plate. “I could eat like this every day,” he remarked. “After this I want to head back to the hill. Josh is putting oil on the bottom of his sled and that thing's going to go down that hill like crazy.”

“We might have something to do right after dinner,” Mrs. Winters said, with what she hoped was a secret nod toward Noelle, who was absently peeling apart the strands of a celery stalk and didn't notice.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Whatever.”