“Fine.” He yanked open the door, his linebacker shoulders blocking out the whole frame. “Let’s go.”
I shuffled against the counter. “I-I can’t leave thissecond. I haven’t showered or had breakfast.” At my family's blank stares, I gestured wildly to my outfit. “I’m in my pajamas.”
Zack frowned. “Who cares? No one’s gonna be looking at you. And even if they were, all they’ll see is your pants.”
“You can still see my face," I said.
“Yep,” he muttered. Oh, like it was such a disgrace.
“Zack.” Aunt Coral scooted her chair back.
He hung his head back and droned, “I mean, you’re so pretty.”
“Jerk.” I pushed past him to get back to my room.
“Be nice to your cousin,” Aunt Coral hissed to Zack.
“She’s such a baby,” he said. The followingthwapsounded an awful lot like a meaty arm getting smacked by a pad of paper.
I rolled my eyes, grabbed some clothes, then headed to the bathroom for a shower.
“Where are you going?” Zack called.
Aunt Coral’s voice cut through the pounding water. “Let her wash up. She wants to look nice.”
“Can she hurry up? I’m starving,” Zack bellowed, cracking open the fridge.
“You two can get breakfast there. Right, Zack?” Her voice held an edge.
“Fine.” He slapped the fridge door shut.
Such a burden. Breakfast with your cousin.Compared to Christmas shopping, it was a vacation.
After I washed up, I put on some light makeup. Glitter stuck to my hands and lashes, a semi-permanent fixture from my work look. I didn’t need to put on any white eyeshadow today, but I still wanted some pizazz. Maybe a light brown palette? Or silver?
Zack called out, his voice softening with distance. “I’m going to the car, and if you’re not there in five minutes–”
“I’m going, gosh.” I hurried to get ready, then stuffed my feet into my comfiest boots.
Mom waved a sheet of notepaper at me. “The list.”
“Love you, bye.” I grabbed the sheet, kissed her and Aunt Coral’s cheeks, and ran out the open door to catch up to my cousin. I slid into the passenger’s side of his old silver Eldorado. “Happy, Zack?”
“Ecstatic. Let’s get this over with.”
Why was everyone so grumpy in such a jolly time of year? Shoveling and snow plow activities notwithstanding.
Zack glanced over his shoulder and jerked the car into reverse. Everything was fast with him. Even walking behind someone going a normal pace for half a second had himgrumbling and shoulder checking. Driving in the snow, he was safe-ish, but tense. He bobbed his head to the heavy rock blasting from his home-modded stereo system, his gaze zig-zagging across the snowy streets as if he expected a football tackle or another car to come in out of nowhere.
I perused our moms’ list. “Which store do you want to hit first?”
“There’s a coffee place in the mall, right?”
“Um, yeah. The Bern.” I plucked a guitar pick out of his cup holder. What if Harvey was working? He’d never seen me as anything but Sugarplum: glitter and gumdrops.
Zack flipped one hand over atop the wheel. “What, you don’t like coffee? I’m sure you could get a muffin.”
“No, coffee’s good.” I twiddled the pick, but Zack kept side-eyeing me, so I turned up my palm. “What?”
