“Good idea,” Holly said.
Elda grinned. “Now I’m the one giving you advice.”
Holly’s parents let her off the hook for dinner, and she pretended to be napping until she heard the front door slam shut and the car engines turn over in the driveway. Then she jumped out of bed and listened. Holly heard nothing, no sound except the ancient furnace growling in the basement. She was alone. Finally.
She glanced around the attic, suddenly wondering what to do with herself. Holly wouldn’t squander this precious time alone. She could read a book or watch TV or just…exist.
Grabbing the biography of the Mitford sisters, Holly dashed downstairs to the kitchen. She snuck a heaping bowl of potato chips and retreated into her grandma’s study where they used to plan their gingerbread houses. Grandma would perch on the couch with her knitting, and Holly would sit behind the desk with her sketch pad and pencils.
She took Grandma’s spot on the couch and glanced out the window and right into the neighbor’s kitchen. A woman stirred a pot on the stove, while a boy sat at the table. A boy with beautiful sandy brown hair and perfect lips.
Holly slid off the couch and onto the floor, ducking out of sight. Danny Garland lived next door? When had that happened? Why had her grandmother never told her? She crawled along the floor, pulled herself up to a crouch at the windowsill, and peered over at Danny from behind Grandma’s green curtain sheers. He tapped away on his phone, glowering. His crutches were propped up next to him, resting against the table.
Grandma’d probably never said anything because she had no idea this news would matter to Holly. She’d had no clue that Holly had been dreaming about Danny since she was ten.
Still, this felt like a sign, like Grandma was reaching to her from beyond the grave. Danny Garland lived next door.
Bah. Stop it, Holly. This was no sign, and, besides, she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Danny Garland anymore. He didn’t remember her, and he had a girlfriend. He was off the market, a pipe dream.
His mom put a plate down in front of him, and he pushed it away. He muttered something, and she pointed to the dish, as if trying to get him to eat; then he folded his arms, and she left the room. Danny sat alone after that, staring at the wall in front of him.
Holly boosted herself into the rolling desk chair and whirled toward the window. He looked so sad and angry. Maybe he’d just broken up with his girlfriend. Maybe he needed a friend…
Ugh. Holly’s imagination could be so overactive sometimes. She swiveled away from the window, giving Danny some privacy to deal with whatever he was dealing with.
Something gold on the desk caught her eye—embossed lettering scrawled over a red leather book. Her grandmother’s name: Dolores Page. She picked up the book and opened it. It was a calendar, but her grandma had used it as a journal and a scrapbook, filling it with little notes and pictures.
Holly glanced around, as if someone might yell at her for looking at this. But privacy no longer mattered. Grandma’s entire life was exposed—her underwear, her dentures, the fact that she’d been hoarding magazines since 1972—what did it matter if Holly peeked inside her day planner?
Her grandmother had scribbled notes and added pictures chronicling the whole year. She’d been to a wedding in town this summer—Matthew and Hakeem’s. Judging by a picture of the wedding party, it had been super fancy, too. Holly grinned. Her grandma had been to a gay wedding and Holly’d had no clue. Her grandma had never mentioned it, which probably meant she’d thought it was no big deal. Holly snapped a picture of the page and sent it to her best friend, Rebel, who would totally appreciate it.
A tear splashed on the page, and Holly wiped it away, smearing the ink a bit. Holly brushed away another tear before it could fall. This wasn’t sad. It was happy and beautiful. This journal was her grandma in book form.
Holly wasn’t sure what she was going to do with it, but she tucked the day planner under her arm and whisked it up to the attic, where she hid it in her suitcase. The others could have the dentures. This book was for her eyes only.
Chapter Three
Saturday, December 16
It’d been a while since Danny had simply watched a basketball game. For the past eight years, he’d always been the one playing. Even while resting on the bench, his mind prepped for his next minutes on the court.
But today he sat in the stands. Brian had driven him out to Countryside High School, about twenty minutes from North Pole. It was an act of bravery and defiance. Phil and Star would be there, and Danny had to reclaim his position with the team. No, he couldn’t play, but he could sit on the bench, helping his coach make decisions, passing on his observations about their opponent and how his teammates might adjust. He’d be useful. He’d participate. He’d prove that his usefulness stretched far beyond his ability to shoot a basketball.
But his coach had patted him on the arm and said, “We’ve got to learn to win without you, Danny.”
So he sent Danny back to the stands with his brother, where he had a full view of Star dancing with the poms squad and Phil Waterston sitting next to the coach, wrapping knees, handing out water bottles, participating in the huddle during timeouts. Watching everyone—his girlfriend, her new boyfriend, Danny’s teammates—go on with their lives without him, Danny felt like a fly on the wall at his own funeral.
From the opening tipoff until halftime, Danny was on the verge of tearing his hair out. Star performed dance routines in the corner and snuck little waves at Phil, like she used to do for Danny. His teammates kept making stupid errors. The other team was bigger and faster than the North Pole guys, and the Reindeer were just trying to keep up.
“They should be trying to slow it down,” Danny told Brian. “Why are they letting the other team control the pace?”
“We’re winning,” his brother said.
“For now.” Danny folded his arms and frowned. Kevin had taken over Danny’s position, power forward, and he’d made some of the dumbest plays on the court. He fouled the other team’s center for literally no reason. He tossed the ball up every time it touched his hands, whether he had a decent shot or not. And the one time he tried to pass it, he heaved it out of bounds. Yes, his points were in double digits, but that was pure luck. He put up so many shots, a few were bound to go in. “Kevin is a disaster.”
“Kevin is doing fine,” Brian said.
When the buzzer rang at the half, the Reindeer were up by five, and the guys all patted each other’s backs as they retreated to the locker room. Phil Waterston waved to Star, and she blew him a kiss. Well, that was a new one. Star had never, ever, ever blown Danny a kiss, not one time in the six years they were together. She wasn’t the kiss-blowing type.