The Perfect Present

The Perfect Present

By Morgan Billingsley,

Jackie Lee

and Gabrielle Simone

Houston, Texas * Washington, D.C.

The Perfect Present
© 2014 by Morgan Billingsley, Jackie Lee and Gabrielle Simone

Brown Girls Publishing, LLC

www.browngirlspublishing.com

ISBN: 9781625177391 (digital)

9781625177407 (print)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means including electronic, mechanical or photocopying or stored in a retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages to be included in a review.

First Brown Girls Publishing LLC trade printing

Manufactured and Printed in the United States of America

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It is reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped” book.

Dedication

Morgan – My grandparents, for teaching me anything is possible.

Jackie – To my parents, James and LaSheera Lee.

Gabrielle – For Niamh Bell, a small girl with a big heart.

Acknowledgements

Morgan

I want to thank God and my family for supporting me. Big thanks to my mom, ReShonda (who did NOT help me write my book. I am very proud to say that I wrote this ALL BY MYSELF!), thank you to my dad, my sister and my brothers. And thank you to my TT and Justin. To all my peers. And can't forget about my partners in crime, Gabrielle and Jackie, who I'm happy to be in this book with. A huge shout out to Victoria Christopher Murray and Brown Girls Books for helping me become a published author. And finally, thank you for taking the time to read our book!

Jackie

First, I would like to thank God for his grace and gifts. Thank you Ms. Victoria and ReShonda for allowing me to be a part of this book. I want to congratulate Morgan and Gabrielle for their hard work. I want to thank appreciate my parents, James and LaSheera Lee for supporting and encouraging me to always do my best. My brother, James and sister Jakeeta are always there to help me. I thank my grandparents, Ireatha Lee and Carl and Zeldeliea Wagstaff for their love and support. My aunts Linda Harris, Joreatha Lee, Morinett Lee, and Lesley
Dabney for always making me laugh. I want to thank my cousin, Kushana for letting me come over her house to play. I love my whole Lee family. I also want to thank Ms. Traci White, Ms. Tootie, Ms. LaTonya Terry and Ms. Selena. I appreciate my friend, Jada Mc Cain and her mom Mrs. McCain. I want to thank all of my teachers. Thank you Ms. Iris, Monica, Nikki and Loretta.

Gabrielle

I would like to thank my mom Celia Anderson for keeping me going and always having my back. I would also like to thank my grandma, Sarah Hinton for helping me finish my homework when it was hard and taking good care of me when my mom travels. Thank you to my second family, the Bells for inspiring me. Last but not least I would like to thank my publishers, Victoria Christopher Murray and ReShonda Tate Billingsley for believing in my story.

The Perfect Present

Operation: Santa is Real

By Morgan Billingsley

I don't know what my twin brother wanted for Christmas, but I was about to give him a gift all right, a hard punch in the right eye. Okay, I'm not really a violent person, but after what he just said, Max deserved that and then some.

“Say it again,” I threatened.

“I'm not scared to say it!” he yelled.

“Then say it! I triple dog dare you.” My nostrils flared as I breathed in and out. I felt like I did after gym glass when our drill sergeant gym teacher used to make us run all those laps and I'd be out of breath.

Max took a step in my face and with a gigantic grin said, “Santa. Isn't. Real.”

I couldn't believe this! My little brother (because he was three minutes younger than me) really had the nerve to say Santa isn't real!

I balled up my fist, but then I thought about Santa and figured he was probably watching right now. That's what saved Max. I really wanted that new Wii and Santa might put me on the naughty list if I gave my brother a black eye.

So I just said, “Everyone knows Santa is real and he comes once a year on Christmas Eve!”

He rolled his eyes, laughing like I was the president of
dumb.com
. “Mickey,
you really are too old to still believe in Santa,” he told me.

Oh! By the way, I'm Mickey, which is short for Michelle but everyone just calls me Mickey. Max is my nerdy twin. In other words, he's a loser, especially since he doesn't believe in Santa.

How I could have a loser for a twin, I have no idea. Max always tries to make fun of me, saying I was named after a mouse. But then, I have to remind him that Mickey is an international personality and the universal symbol of the twenty-first century (I don't exactly know what that means, but I saw it on Google and it sounded really good).

People call us the M and M Twins and even though we fight, nothing can break our bond. Well, I used to think nothing could break our bond. This craziness he just said, well that just may do it.

This all started earlier today when me and Max were eating lunch, and my friend Avery brought up what we wanted for Christmas. That got everyone at the lunch table talking.

“I think we should scam Santa into getting us a whole lot of presents. Like, give him a list, then give our parents another list,” said Justin, Max's friend.

“Yeah, that way we get double gifts,” Avery said.

“Uh, really?” said Max's friend, Peter. “We're second graders. Everybody in second grade knows that Santa isn't real.”

Me, Avery and Justin stared at Peter like he had two heads.

“Of course Santa is real,” I finally said. “How else do you think we get our gifts?”

“Yeah, and nobody but Santa is brave enough to go down the chimney,” Avery chimed in. “Right, Max?”

I just knew my brother was going to agree with me. But he just sat there looking stuck on stupid.

Finally, he said, “I think Peter is right. We're too old to believe in all that fake Santa stuff.”

My granny used to say ‘bury me now' when something was shocking to her. I had no idea what that meant when she first said it, but now I got it. My twin brother was giving up on Santa. Yep, just shoot me now.

I couldn't even pay attention in class the rest of the day. My teacher said, “What's twenty plus twenty” and I answered, “Santa.” That's how crazy my brother had my head.

The rest of the day, all I could think about was how to put some sense back into my brother.

“I'll give you my ice cream sandwich for a week if you just say Santa is real,” I said as we road the bus home.

“I'll take your sandwich, but I'm not saying it because I don't believe it,”
Max replied.

“I'll let you win at Robolox,” I said, talking about our favorite game.

“I'm gonna win anyway,” he said.

We went back and forth like that all the way home and he wouldn't change his mind. I probably shouldn't have cared, but Max was my twin. If he was giving up on Santa, our bond was broken. My life was over. My twin was growing up and I didn't even know him anymore. For all I know, he could be running a super spy agent business.

When we got home, my mom was waiting with our snack and I ate in silence. Then, when my mom asked what was wrong, Max blurted out.

“She's mad because I said there's no Santa Claus.”

“Stop saying that!” I yelled.

“You two settle down,” my mom said as the phone rang. “I'm going to go answer this call, then we'll talk about it when I get back.”

She took the phone and went into her office. That's when we had our argument that had me ready to punch him in the eye.

But just as I felt myself getting mad all over again, it hit me. My brother was a nerd. I needed to get through to him in black and white. So, I wrote him a letter. Or rather,
Santa
wrote him a letter.

Dear Max,

I am sorry to hear you don't believe in me from one of my elves that was watching you to see if you were being naughty or nice. You actually had been really nice lately and I was up here in the North Pole gathering up some really good gifts for you, but I guess I don't need to anymore because you don't believe in me. I'm sorry this is about to happen. Christmas morning, you're going to wake up and go downstairs and your sister and your parents are going to have many gifts, but there will be none for you. Why? Simply because after you stop believing in me, I don't exist in your head anymore.

I saw your sister trying really hard to make you see the bright side in this, tell her I said thank you, but if he doesn't believe, he just doesn't believe.

One last thing: don't let any of your friends like Peter take the joy of what I bring from you. I know you don't believe in me anymore but don't let them make up your mind for you.

Have a great Christmas. You might as well sleep in since you won't be getting anything.

Love, Santa

How's that for an eight-year-old? Pretty good, huh? I know.

Christmas was still two and a half weeks away, so I gave the letter to Avery at school the next day. Her mom is a teacher, so she got to school before everyone else. We talked over the plan and Operation: Santa is Real was in full affect.

The next day, Avery was going to put the letter in Max's box at school so it would be there when we arrived. Since he and I arrived at the same time, he'd never suspect that it was me. Am I smart or what?

Now, it was time. Max and I were all dressed and ready for school. Avery had sent me a text on my iPad about ten minutes ago.

Operation: Santa is real is a go. The package has been delivered!

I love my partner in crime!

My part of the plan was to get Max to his cubby before class started. I did and held my breath as he pulled the letter out.

Max read it (it took forever), and he turned to me as soon as he finished. “Did you write this?”

“Write what?” I asked, playing dumb. “I just walked in with you, how could I have written anything? What is it?” I leaned in to get a better look.

He moved the letter away so I couldn't see it, before turning to look around the room. His eyes stopped on Avery and I got butterflies in my stomach. I had forgotten one very important fact. Avery had a huge crush on Max. He thought girls were icky and never paid her any attention, but today, he must've known
something was up.

My brother put on a super sad face and eased over to her desk.

“Avery, be honest. Do you know where this letter came from? I know you'll tell me the truth.” Then he flashed a puppy dog look at her.

Don't do it!
I wanted to scream.
Don't fall for the dimples
.

Too late. Avery looked at him, then at me, then back at him, before she blurted out everything. “Mickey made me do it!”

Of course, that didn't end well. Now, my brother was mad at me and I was mad at my best friend. Sigh. This is all just too much work.

Later that night, Max came up to me and said, “I wonder does Santa know you're forging his name on stuff?”

“Leave me alone, Max,” I said. I needed to get my mind right on how I was going to enjoy Christmas all by myself.

My brother let out a long sigh. “Fine. You know what? How about we see for ourselves.”

I sat up. “What does that mean?”