Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 14955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
Every year, Mr. Elkins, our principal, and his wife dress up as Santa and Mrs. Claus to attend all the local holiday parties. It’s a town tradition. This year, a horrible cold is moving through town. The illness has Mrs. Elkins down for the count. My boss needed someone to assist him, which is how I ended up at this party in a hideous outfit. Since Mrs. Elkins refuses to let anyone else use her Mrs. Claus costume, my boss rented the only available elf costume in town—a hideous, nineteen-eighties red and green velvet disco elf get-up. I didn’t have a ready excuse to get me out of helping Mr. Elkins, so here I am. Stuck at this party, wearing this awful costume, while the hottest man I’ve ever seen stares at me.
Luckily, our night is winding down because I’m not sure I’ll last too much longer without embarrassing myself.
“I think the party is winding down,” Mr. Elkins tells me, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Hopefully, we can wrap this up so I can get home in time to have a long soak in the tub and a huge glass of wine. Then, I’ll work at trying to forget all about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome Citified Scrooge. Lucky for me, it’s the weekend. I plan to wipe Greyson Woodward from my mind before I return to class on Monday morning.
I reach over and knock my phone off the nightstand, trying to silence my freaking alarm. My stuffy nose burns as coughing racks my body, and I realize I’ve caught the dreaded cold going around town. Groaning, I stare at the ceiling and debate calling in sick. Ugh. If it was Friday, I’d try to force myself to go in, but there’s no way I’ll survive a typical Monday feeling like this. I reach up and run my palms over my cheeks, realizing they’re hot. Oh, man.
Snoopy, my black French Bulldog, grumbles when I push him to the side and lean over to search for my cell phone. “I don’t want to hear it,” I croak, realizing how horrible I sound. My pup snuggles back under the covers, ignoring my rapidly deteriorating condition.
“I can’t believe you’re not more concerned about me,” I grumble and send a text to Mr. Elkins, letting him know I caught the plague and I’m not going to make it in today. Then I decide to text my mother and let her know I’m sick before the town grapevine does it for me. I send my message, letting her know I won’t be bringing Snoopy over today, and immediately get a response from my mother.
Mom
What’s wrong?????
I caught the bad cold going around school.
Mom
Do you need me to come and get Snoopy so you can rest?
You don’t have to come. I’ll be fine
Mom
I’m coming to get my little man.
Why did she even ask? I roll my eyes and glance over at Snoopy. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Grandma is coming to get you.” My pup’s large black ears twitch when I mention my mother. He loves spending workdays with my retired parents.
Five minutes later, I hear my mother’s key turning in the front door. “Where’s my poochie poo?”
Snoopy completely ignores me and takes off running for the front door. “Thanks, Mom,” I tell her as she sets a bag of medicine on my coffee table.
“Of course.” My mother feels my forehead and jumps into mothering mode. “You need to take something to get rid of that fever.”
“Okay.” It’s not worth my effort to fight her. I’ve spent the last seven years, since I turned eighteen, unsuccessfully trying to convince my parents that I’m an adult and perfectly capable of taking care of myself.
I know my mom isn’t going to leave until she watches me take the medication, so I reach into the bag and pull out the small white bottle. I swallow two small blue pills and start choking as the cold water hits the back of my scratchy throat.
My mother pounds on my back a few times before pulling the covers tightly around me. “Call me if you need anything.” She gives Snoopy a little pat on the head. “Come on, sweet boy. Your mommy needs rest.”
“Have a good day with Grandma and Grandpa,” I tell my pup. Yes, I talk to him like he’s human. Sue me.
“Your dad will stop by later with lunch,” my mother tells me while hooking the leash to Snoopy’s collar. “Get some rest.” Too tired to fight her, I sit back and close my eyes as she heads for the door. “When you’re feeling better, I want to hear all about the two citified scrooges.” I’m not really surprised she’s already heard about the Christmas party. Gossip is the main source of exercise in Blue Spruce.
Once my mom and Snoopy leave, I drag myself off the sofa, figuring a shower might help clear my head. As the hot water runs down my body, my mind wanders into dangerous territory. Fantasies of Mr. Citified Scrooge doing all kinds of forbidden things to me assault my brain. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to wipe Gray Woodward from my mind. I attempt to blame these crazy feelings on the fever, but I can’t help worrying that I’m in trouble here.