Page 81

“Hold it like this,” Cleo instructs, and their faces come into view.

“Ah! Tā shì shéi?” Pó Po asks, furrowing her eyebrows.

My sisters tell our grandparents who I am, but they don’t look any less confused. The elf costume and wig don’t help.

“Payne, which way?” Nathan asks, honking his horn every few seconds to alert the people up ahead to get out of our way.

“Should’ve let me drive,” I say, still guiding him by pointing and gesturing.

Cleo and Kate bust out laughing when they see me. “I knew road rage in New York was a thing, but I didn’t realize it was that intense,” Cleo says as I bounce in my seat when Nathan drives over a gravel path.

“Your hair’s a little slanted,” Kate says, pointing at the screen.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” I say cheerily to my grandparents, fixing my wig. “Shèngdàn kuàilè!”

The car skids on ice, and I go sliding over the shared seat to Nathan, whose eyes flick to the screen.

“Well, hello,” Kate says, giving me a look. “Did Miss Claus find herself a Mr. Claus?”

“It’s… a volunteering thing,” I say. “Can we talk in a bit? I’m a little busy right now.”

“Pó Po and Gong Gong needed to see you to believe you exist. After this call, I think they’re going to believe in you less,” Cleo says. Figures. With all the years between us, I wasn’t even alive yet when my sisters and parents made the trip overseas to visit my grandparents or when they’d come to America to visit them. By the time I was born, everyone was too busy to make the annual trip, and my grandparents were too old to travel comfortably. I didn’t get to see them very often, which is why this time with them now would’ve meant so much.

“I’ll call you back tomorrow.” Then I remember I might not make it to tomorrow. “Actually, I have another minute or so.”

“Payne,” Nathan says through gritted teeth.

I hold my hand over the speaker. “If today’s my last day, I can’t hang up on my grandparents. That’s not how I want them to remember me!”

“It’ll definitely be your last day if we don’t get there in time,” he reminds me.

The Central Park Carousel is coming up on our left. We’re getting close. “I have to go. I promise to call tomorrow,” I tell my sisters, waving to my grandparents behind them. If anything, this is just more motivation to stop Sadistic Santa so I can give my family a proper call on Christmas.

When we hang up, I immediately regret making a promise I don’t know for sure I can keep.

Nathan grabs my hand. “You’ll call them tomorrow, and the day after that.”

I nod. “And the day after that.”

“Now where?”

It’s a bumpy ride, and there’s a chance sparks will fly when the wheel fully comes off and the rim hits concrete, but we’re so close.

“There,” I say, pointing toward trees and grass. If we were off-road before, we’re definitely not supposed to be driving where we’re about to go.

The convertible smashes through a row of benches as Nathan and I duck behind the windshield. Barren tree branches scrape against the sides, cracking off like brittle sticks from the force of our vehicle.

I can see Sheep Meadow through the fence. It’s normally closed off for the winter so the lawn can rest, but it looks like the Con got access to it for the next competition. Crowds are already seated on bleachers, and I count only nine convertibles parked off to the side.

“We can still make it!” I say, tapping the dashboard. “We beat Fireworks Freddie!”

Then, as it tends to go when I speak too soon, Freddie comes flying out of nowhere and cuts us off in his convertible, heading straight toward the finish line.

Chapter 24

SCARLETT

One year ago, Christmas Eve