While You Were Creeping - Poppy Rhys Page 0,3

to open my storage room and rummage through my neatly organized Christmas decorations that I’d been meaning to throw away but couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I didn’t want to, but how was I supposed to get through this, to heal, if I didn’t start somewhere? Anywhere?

Skully groaned from the couch once I flipped my living room lights on. A sho-sha, a hip-high canine crossbreed.

I’d gotten him with my ex. I may have also threatened to light George on fire if he thought he was taking Skully from me.

I probably would’ve, too. Unhinged was my permanent state of mind in those first few months.

“Hey boy,” I whispered, giving his fluffy indigo fur a good ruffling. A thorough neck scratching had his cup-whacking tail wagging and all four of his pink eyes happily drooping.

The storage door could’ve been flashing red, a beacon in my head. I needed this. Had to start somewhere.

I opened the door, quickly pulled open the lid on the closest bin and grabbed the first piece I saw—a snowflake ornament—then I got the hell out of there.

Hanging it in one of my windows, I brushed the glitter off my hands and stood back.

There. I decorated. Now no one could say shit to me.

“C’mon Skully.” I ushered him toward the door and grabbed my scarf. “Let’s go for a walk.”

THREE

The class was quiet, my students in the midst of a quiz when a trio of knocks broke the silence.

I knew who it was.

We all knew who it was, evidenced by the way my teenage students anxiously eyeballed me.

The elves.

I’d been anticipating this all damned week, waffling about whether I’d take my therapist’s advice and let the elves pass out their gifts in my class.

I remembered when I was a Tinsel High student and how fun Elves’ Day was. All the quirky, creative gifts they brought. I still had every one of them. They were packed away, out of sight, but I couldn’t bring myself to toss ‘em.

I exhaled, setting my pen down. “Come in!”

My students burst into chatter and cheers.

“You rock, Ms. Zax!”

“Best. Teacher. Ever.”

“Bring on the elves!”

For a split second, my chest felt warm at their excitement—excitement I’d once felt on Elves’ Day—

Then the door opened, and George popped his head into my classroom.

Frost crackled and stretched over my thawing heart, freezing it once more.

“Holly?”

I hated it when he called me by my first name.

“Did I hear you say, ‘come in’?” His brows knit together above his matching brown eyes, his equally brown hair perfectly combed into place.

Brown. Neutral. Boring. Words I told myself to make him less attractive in my head.

“Yes, Principal Huckle, I did. Bring in the elves.”

Did I forget to mention George was now my boss?

Yep.

Along with a shiny fiancée, he got a promotion.

Escaping this guy was nearly impossible.

Tried to tell myself I’d dodged a bullet. I could’ve been Holly Huckle. A terrible name.

“O-oh. Okay. Great.” He stammered, clearly surprised I was allowing the elves into my class this year.

You and me both.

Maybe Dr. Molina was right, though. My students didn’t break my heart—George had. They shouldn’t have to suffer my inner Scrooge.

I tucked that away, or tried to, as a horde of elves flooded into my classroom which suddenly smelled like cloves and sugared cranberries.

Their high-pitched voices chattered and giggled as they danced through the aisles, handing out their expertly wrapped gifts. I was so distracted by the event, I hadn’t noticed George sneak his way to my desk until he spoke.

“How’re you doing, Holly?”

I lifted my eyes to where he leaned comfortably against my desk, like we did this every day. Like he genuinely cared.

I hated that about him.

Didn’t matter who he spoke to or what he’d done, he always seemed genuine.

It fucked me up every time because I wanted to believe it. That skill he’d honed perfectly had made me so blind to his infidelity.

“I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.”

He smiled, that dimple in his left cheek deepening. That smile had once made my frozen heart do ridiculous things. Now it was just annoyingly uneven. “I’m so glad to hear that. And the family’s doing well?”

My family had loved George. He’d won them over almost instantly. If he hadn’t dumped me in front of them—at the annual Christmas party, I might add—they probably would’ve never believed we were over.

That memory still fucking stung.

My teeth clenched, and it took a shit-ton of willpower to not tell George to get out of my classroom. “They’re great.”

“Perfect. So, hey, I wanted to talk to you

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