Chapter 19: Mistletoe Moments
828 Words
I didn’t plan on another disaster today. Really, I didn’t. But apparently, the universe had a backlog.
I was sitting on my usual bench, hat snug on my head, staring at my notebook like it held all the answers to life, when Jasper appeared from nowhere.
“You look like you’ve been through a week-long snowstorm,” he said lightly, plopping down beside me.
“I have,” I muttered. “And somehow I survived.”
He smirked. “Barely.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t get to say that.”
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because I’ve been here. Watching. Not dying of embarrassment. That counts for something.”
I exhaled and buried my face in my hands. “I swear, this hat is cursed. Every time I wear it, chaos follows. Kisses, spills, whispers, people bumping into me like I’m a magnet for mayhem.”
He leaned a little closer. “Mhm.”
I peeked at him through my fingers. “What?”
“Nothing. Just… seems like you’ve been surviving a lot lately.”
“Surviving? It’s more like…” I gestured vaguely to the quad. “…existing on a public stage where everyone’s allowed commentary.”
He chuckled. “Ivy, can I be honest?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been honest all week.”
“Different kind,” he said. “I feel like you should know something.”
I blinked. “What?”
He glanced down at my hat and then back at me, eyes softening. “It’s the hat.”
I froze. “The… hat?”
“The mistletoe,” he said, slower this time. “On your hat. That’s why all this keeps happening.”
“…What?”
“You’ve been walking around, oblivious, with a little sprig of mistletoe perched on top. That’s why everyone has been… well, you know.”
I slowly lifted a hand to the hat, like I’d find a hidden note or a magical button. There it was. Green, tiny, almost smug.
“Oh no,” I whispered. “It’s… it’s really there?”
“Yep,” he said, leaning back on the bench, trying not to laugh. “All week. Little culprit.”
I felt my cheeks burn hotter than Santa’s sleigh. “All… week?”
“All week,” he confirmed, eyes gentle. “And yet, you handled it. Every single… chaotic… incident.”
I stared at him. “You mean… surviving?”
“Nope,” he said, smirking. “Not surviving. Thriving. You’ve been brilliant. Tenacious. You just didn’t realize it.”
I blinked. “I… you think I’m… brilliant?”
“Yeah,” he said, softer now. “And maybe a little terrifying to the rest of the school.”
I laughed nervously. “Terrifying? Me?”
“Come on,” he said, nudging my shoulder lightly. “They’ve been tripping over themselves just because of a hat.”
I shook my head, hands pressed against my face. “I can’t believe this. I’ve been—accidentally—attracting… kisses… chaos… for a whole week, and I didn’t even notice.”
“You noticed now,” he said. “That counts.”
I peeked at him again. “So… you knew?”
“I did,” he admitted. “But I wasn’t going to ruin the fun. You needed to figure it out yourself.”
“Figure it out myself?” I groaned. “I could have died of embarrassment first!”
He grinned. “Then I’d have called it a learning experience.”
I threw a cushion at him—well, the imaginary one in my mind—and he laughed. Really laughed. It was warm, comforting. Like he’d been here for the chaos, but he wasn’t part of it. Not really.
“So… what do I do now?” I asked finally. “Do I remove it? Hide it? Burn it?”
He leaned closer, conspiratorial. “Keep it on. But maybe… choose your moments.”
I stared at him. “Choose my moments?”
“Yeah,” he said, smirking. “Embrace the chaos… but on your own terms.”
I blinked, letting the weight of that sink in. For the first time in days, maybe even a week, I felt like I wasn’t at the mercy of the hat. Maybe I could steer it. Maybe I could finally… breathe.
“Okay,” I said softly. “I think I can do that.”
He smiled, just faintly, like he’d been waiting to hear me say it. “Good. Because next time someone leans in… you’ll know why.”
I laughed. Quietly, relieved, almost giddy. “Oh no. I do.”
We sat there together, side by side, the chaos of the schoolyard muted in the distance, and I realized something. I didn’t get to be invisible. Not today. Not with this hat. Not with the mistletoe perched up there, silently plotting.
- Writer
