Mistletoe Mishap

Chapter 7: Ribbon Ruckus

I didn’t plan on signing up for the campus holiday charity gift-wrapping table. Honestly, I thought staying invisible while decorating my dorm was challenge enough. But apparently, the universe disagreed.

The gymnasium smelled faintly of pine, hot cocoa, and… glue. Tables were lined with brightly colored wrapping paper, ribbons spilling everywhere, scissors glinting under the fluorescent lights. And of course, I had to look festive. My red hat with the smug little green sprig was perched proudly on my head, oblivious to the chaos it had already orchestrated.

Ivy, disaster magnet, reporting for duty.

I tried to tackle a small stack of gifts, balancing a roll of wrapping paper under one arm while holding a pair of scissors and tape in the other. Instantly, a ribbon curled around my fingers, slipping off and wrapping around my wrist. My glasses fogged slightly from the warm gym air, and my pig tails swung wildly as I adjusted my glasses… only to send a roll of wrapping paper tumbling across the table.

“Nice start,” a voice drawled from behind me.

I spun, almost stabbing a gift with my scissors. Jasper. He leaned casually against the wall, notebook in hand, smirk firmly in place. Of course. Why would anyone not be watching me at a moment like this?

“Uh… hi,” I mumbled, juggling scissors, tape, and a ribbon that seemed determined to strangle me.

“You look… festive,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “And apparently armed for battle.”

I wanted to disappear. Or at least dive under the table. But no such luck.

I picked up a gift, taped it to the best of my ability, and grabbed a ribbon. Naturally, it got caught in my hat’s pom-pom, sending the green sprig spinning off-center. I yanked at it, tangling the ribbon even more. A bow shot across the table and landed on a student’s shoulder. She laughed, taking a quick photo. I froze, heart hammering, cheeks flaming.

“Need some help?” Jasper asked, stepping closer.

I shook my head frantically. “I… I’ve got it! Totally fine!”

He smirked knowingly, scribbling something in his notebook. I had no idea what he was writing—probably a detailed report of my ongoing incompetence. Or maybe a diagram: “How Ivy Wrecks a Gift-Wrapping Table in 30 Seconds.”

Ribbon curled around my fingers again, slipping from my grasp. The scissors tumbled to the floor. I bent down to grab them and… thunk! I knocked over a small stack of gifts. One tumbled straight into the lap of a student passing by, spilling tissue paper everywhere. I gasped.

“Uh… sorry!” I squeaked, scrambling to pick up the mess. My hat bobbed precariously on my head, green sprig perfectly smug.

Jasper stepped in—subtly, silently, without actually saying much—and shifted a large box so it wouldn’t topple on me. He didn’t offer a hand. Didn’t give instructions. Just… made sure the disaster didn’t escalate.

“Thanks,” I whispered, face hot.

He smirked, scribbled in his notebook again, and muttered, “You’re welcome. Mostly.”

The chaos didn’t stop there. A roll of red wrapping paper unspooled, rolling across the gym floor like a runaway snake. My ribbon tangled in a stack of gifts. Tape stuck to my gloves. My glasses fogged up again, and I had to shove my pig tails behind my ears while balancing a gift on one knee.

A student peered over the table. “Is she always like this?”

I bit my lip, mortified. “Yes,” I whispered to myself, wishing fervently that I could evaporate into thin air.

Jasper leaned casually on the edge of the table, pretending to take notes, but I caught him glancing at me with one eyebrow raised. That smirk… I wanted to hate it, but somehow it made me more flustered than the ribbon strangling my fingers.

I picked up another gift, wrapping it with what I hoped looked intentional. The ribbon slipped, snagging my glasses, tugging my hair, and somehow flipping my hat slightly to one side. I blinked, tried to adjust the pom-pom. Completely unaware, of course, that the green sprig was still plotting chaos from the top of my head.

“Here,” Jasper said, holding out a neatly tied bow. “For… strategic purposes.”

I froze, staring at the bow in his hand. My mind went blank. Accept it? Decline? Take it carefully like a peace offering?

“Uh… thanks?” I said finally, voice barely audible.

He smirked, shrugging. “You’re welcome. Maybe try not to decimate the next dozen gifts.”

I shoved the bow onto the gift I was holding, trying not to think about how flustered I was. He didn’t kiss me, didn’t touch me. Just… his presence made my heart race more than any accidental kiss ever had.

By the time I finished my first round of gifts, my hair was messy, ribbon tangled everywhere, and the pom-pom on my hat was slightly lopsided—but miraculously, the green sprig remained in place. Jasper scribbled one last note, smirk firmly in place, before walking away, leaving me breathless and thoroughly embarrassed.

I looked around the gymnasium. Wrapping paper everywhere. Half-tied bows on tables. Gifts slightly askew. And me, standing in the middle of it all, with a hat that somehow survived unscathed, but only barely.

“Smooth, Ivy,” I muttered under my breath, tugging my glasses. “Really smooth.”

And just like that, another disaster had passed. But somehow—somehow—Jasper’s smirk lingered in my mind longer than the glitter on my sweater.