Page 1 of Nuttin for Christmas

one

Aisha Bell

While sittingin the middle of the auditorium during myChemistryclass, I reached the final page of my test. Suddenly, I felt myApple WatchandiPhonevibrate at the same time; my non-dominant hand was comfortably resting in my coat pocket. I pulled it out and slid my jacket sleeve up to read the message.

You wanna go get drinks and chill at my house?

The message was from Chardonnay Snoh, who sat across from me. I had recently become friends with her earlier that week, and this was our last test before theChristmasbreak.

Yea. Some Hennessy and eggnog. But I need to get this new book from Muses and Manuscripts first.

I glanced in her direction and noticed Chardonnay subtly nodding her head, which was topped with a brown beanie. Herfeatures suggested she was of mixed heritage, and I recognized one of her backgrounds as African American.

Once we completed our test, which was surprisingly easy, we grabbed our designer purses and backpacks, made our way up the broad steps, and exited the room.

“I’ma follow you in my car,” I said as we walked toward the front of the building, shivering in the frigid temperatures. It was just another chillyDecemberday, and the wind was harsh.

“Cool,” she replied, turning left and pulling her coat tightly around her neck as her teeth chattered.

I turned around and walked toward my 2019Honda.

After pressing the alarm on my key fob, I opened the door and threw my things into the passenger seat. I slid into the driver’s seat, closed the door behind me, and let out a sigh of relief as I set my phone on the vent mount.

With the holidays coming and me not being in a relationship I knew thisChristmaswould be the worst one ever. I had just turned 22 and had no boyfriend or any type of potentials. I didn’t even have a sneaky link I could call. The only thing I had was dick I could borrow that was attached to one of my two exes who were attached to someone else. I wasn’t sexually promiscuous but when I was involved anything went. Nothing was off limits for me and usually I allowed the man to take the lead in the bedroom.

A horn blared, jarring me from my thoughts when I realized I hadn’t backed out to let the other car in. I raised my hand in apology. After fastening my seatbelt, I turned the ignition and shifted my car into reverse. As I pressed my boot to the gas, I reached out to turn the heater up to high without looking. Navigating the busy school parking lot, I paused for cars to park, exit their spaces, and for my fellow classmates to clear the path.

Making it to the street, I drove the speed limit searching for Chardonnay. Assuming she’d probably passed me, I called herphone through the carsBluetooth. It rang but went straight to voicemail. Deciding to let it be, I continued on to the bookstore when she texted telling me that she was talking to her brother.

Locating my playlist titledNutcracker Holiday Hits, I pressed shuffle. Moments later,Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You”filled the space. As I sang along, I took in my surroundings. Garland and wreaths adorned the lampposts and signs. The streets were awash in red and green. Although the holiday decorations weren’t lit yet, once night fell, the city would sparkle, guidingSantaon his journey to our homes.

After listening to threeChristmassongs, I arrived at the bookstore parking lot. As I slowly pulled in, I began searching down the row for a parking spot. It was as crowded as I had expected for this time of year. Everyone who loved books and reading came to this place, and since it was the only Black bookstore in the city, it attracted every black reader around.

With my music still playing low, I rolled my window down to get a better view, sniffing the air.Muses and Manuscriptssat between a coffee and donut shop and although the scents intermingled, it smelled good.

After a few minutes I noticed a car backing out. Putting my signal on, I waited when I saw a man driving an SUV out the corner of my eye. I immediately figured he was trying to steal my spot. Quickly turning my steering wheel, I hit the gas, zooming in and hearing a horn.

Ignoring the rude man, I parked, looking through my rearview window, checking his whereabouts. The season was meant to be joyful and full of love but sometimes it was just the opposite.Christmassometimes brought out the ugly and hate in people.

Lowering my visor, I glanced in the mirror, checking my appearance. After grabbing my designer crossbody bag, I applied some gloss to my lips and blotted them together. Oncesatisfied, I unbuckled my seatbelt, took my phone and keys, and stepped out of the car. Locking my vehicle, I bundled up in my coat, and jogged toward the entrance.

Stepping inside I was immediately greeted with warmth and the sweet smell of cinnamon.

“Welcome to Muses and Manuscripts.”

Fixing my mouth to say thank you, my eyes landed on the cutest man I’d ever seen. He had a light caramel complexion, dark brown hair, glasses and stood around six foot. He was behind the register reading a book wearing a red polo shirt and khaki pants.

Detouring, my boots padded across the thin carpeted floor.

“Hello Cordaé ,” I grabbed his attention by saying his name on his badge and making him look up from his book.

“Hello. How can I help you?” He shifted his designer frames on his face.

“I can find several ways you can help me,” I bit my bottom lip, scaling his physique.

“Excuse me?” He questioned with embarrassed concern; his cheeks growing a shade of red. He pulled at the hem of his shirt before slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Yea. You heard me, with your fine self,” I leaned over the edge of the counter.

---