A Kiss Before The New Year

CHAPTER TWO — SPARKS IN THE SNOW

The moment Jason’s words—“I called off the marriage contract”—left his lips, the room froze.

The laughter. The chatter. The music.

Everything dissolved into stunned silence.

Maria stood motionless, her painted smile crumbling. Her perfectly curled hair trembled against her shoulders as whispers rippled through the crowd. Everyone knew: Maria Jacobs and Jason Stone were the golden couple of Green Hill High—linked since childhood, bound by their families’ business ties. It had always been “Maria and Jason,” like a brand name.

Until now.

“Y-you’re joking, right?” Maria stammered, her voice breaking.

Jason’s expression didn’t waver. “No, I’m not. You’ve been told since we were kids that we’re supposed to end up together, but that doesn’t make it love.”

The air thickened with murmurs. Phones subtly rose to record.

Maria’s eyes flashed, and for a second she looked ready to strike him. “You’re humiliating me,” she hissed.

Jason’s jaw tightened. “You’ve been doing that to yourself for years.”

A small gasp escaped Megan’s lips—half shock, half awe. She’d seen people argue before, but not like this. This was real, raw, and uncomfortable.

Maria’s chest heaved as she scanned the crowd. “You’ll regret this.”

“I already did,” Jason said simply, and turned away.

Maria’s trembling lip curled. Her eyes locked onto Megan—the accidental witness—and hatred sparked there like a flame meeting gasoline.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” she spat. “He’ll get tired of you, too.”

“Don’t worry,” Megan said sweetly, “you’ve already made things plenty entertaining.”

A low ripple of laughter spread through the room. That was the final blow.

Maria let out a strangled curse and stormed out of the mansion, the sharp click of her heels echoing against the marble floor.

The moment the front door slammed, the tension snapped like a wire. Music resumed, people exhaled, and the party began to breathe again.

Jason turned back to Megan, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Guess that

was a bit of a scene.”

Megan chuckled nervously. “A bit? That was epic. You just dumped her in front of half the school.”

He gave a half-smile. “Not my best timing.”

“Or maybe perfect timing,” Megan said, eyes glinting. “She had it coming.”

Jason laughed quietly. “You don’t mince words, do you?”

“Never have. Ask my mom.”

Something about her directness seemed to disarm him. He glanced at her cider-stained wrist, then said, “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up before someone thinks you’re bleeding champagne.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing her wrist—warm, steady, grounding—and led her through a side hallway.

Inside, the muffled bass of the party thudded faintly through the walls. Megan leaned against the counter as Jason turned on the faucet, soaking a paper towel before gently handing it to her.

“Here,” he said.

She took it with a small laugh. “You’re surprisingly calm for someone who just ended a public engagement.”

Jason shrugged. “It was over long before tonight. I just didn’t have the guts to make it official until now.”

“Still,” she said, dabbing the cider from her dress, “that was brutal.”

“She’ll be fine,” Jason replied, voice softening. “Maria likes attention. She’ll turn this into a pity story before midnight.”

“Then you’d better hope I’m not the villain in it,” Megan teased.

He smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “Too late. She probably already hates you.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “Lucky me.”

There was a brief pause—comfortable, but charged. She could feel his gaze on her through the mirror, steady and unreadable.

“I’m Jason, by the way,” he said finally.

“I know,” she said before she could stop herself. “I mean—yeah, I’ve heard of you. Green Hill High’s soccer captain, right?”

He chuckled. “That’s me. And you’re… Megan Thompson?”

She nodded.

“A beautiful name,” he said, almost offhandedly, “for a beautiful mess.”

Megan froze mid-wipe. “Excuse me?”

He smirked. “You’ve been chaos since the moment I met you.”

She blushed, biting back a laugh. “If I didn’t owe you for saving me from your ex, I’d throw this towel at you.”

“Worth it,” he said, grin widening.

Their laughter mingled with the sound of running water, easy and unexpected.

Then Megan’s expression shifted. “Oh my God—Evelyn!”

Jason blinked. “What?”

“My best friend! I left her alone! She’s probably been kidn*pped by the snack table!”

Jason grabbed his jacket. “Let’s go find her before she’s buried under the chips.”

They bolted out of the restroom, the corridor lights flickering as they ran.

The crowd had thickened, the air humid with perfume and sweat. Megan scanned the room frantically until she spotted Evelyn—slumped in a corner, cheeks flushed, mumbling to herself. Axton stood beside her, looking guilty.

“There she is,” Megan sighed in relief, rushing over. “Evelyn! Are you okay?”

Evelyn looked up, her pupils unfocused. “You have the prettiest hair,” she slurred.

“Oh no,” Megan groaned. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Axton scratched the back of his neck. “She asked for a drink. I thought she meant soda.”

Jason raised a brow. “You gave her wine?”

“Just a sip!” Axton protested.

“She can’t even handle cough syrup,” Megan said. “What were you thinking?”

Evelyn hiccupped and giggled uncontrollably. “He’s cute though,” she whispered loudly, pointing at Axton.

Megan rolled her eyes. “Fantastic. My best friend’s drunk on her crush and sparkling wine.”

Jason tried—and failed—to hide his laugh. “Need help getting her home?”

“Yes, please.”

Between the three of them, they managed to maneuver Evelyn out of the house and into a waiting cab. She sang “Mistletoe” off-key the entire way, alternating between laughter and declarations of undying love for Axton.

Megan could only shake her head. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re embarrassing.”

“Home,” Megan announced as they stumbled through the front door.

Evelyn’s father, Mr. Parker, appeared from the hallway, concern knitting his brow. “Is she—?”

“Drunk,” Megan confessed, propping Evelyn against the wall. “Completely.”

Mr. Parker sighed but smiled faintly. “At least she’s safe. Thank you, dear.”

“No problem,” Megan said, rubbing her temples. “Remind me to install a ‘no wine near Evelyn’ rule next year.”

After helping tuck Evelyn into the guest bed, Megan trudged downstairs, poured herself a glass of water, and leaned against the counter. The house was quiet now—only the soft hum of the heater and the distant whistle of wind outside.

She couldn’t stop replaying Jason’s face in her mind. The warmth in his eyes. The quiet confidence. The moment he’d called Maria out with no hesitation.

It wasn’t the kind of thing you forgot easily.

Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number:

> Jason: Hope you got home safe. Tell your friend no more wine. Goodnight, Megan.

Megan smiled down at the screen, her heart doing that annoying flutter again.

> Megan: Goodnight, troublemaker.

She set the phone aside, her smile lingering as she crawled into bed. Outside, snowflakes whispered against the window, soft and endless.

Somewhere between exhaustion and warmth, her last thought before sleep was simple and dangerous:

Maybe this Christmas really is different.