Page 16 of The Grumpiest Elf

“Oh my god!” she explodes, setting down the ornament in her hand and turning to face me with her hands on her hips. “That wasone time!” She brandishes a finger in my face. “Once. Are you ever gonna let me live it down?”

“Nope,” I assure her with a grin. “Never. When we’re old and you die—since you’re older, you’ll obviously die first, right?—I’ll give your eulogy and remind everyone of the time that you told me Jenny Nash would love it if I surprised her by trying to do theDirty Dancingroutine at Homecoming, but instead I embarrassed her and she dumped me.”

Sarah looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “I’ll have you know that the average life expectancy for women is longer than for men, so there’s a good chance you’ll die first.”

I let out a dramatic gasp. “Sarah! I can’t believe you’re hoping your baby brother will die first!”

She reaches over and backhands my arm again. “That’s not what I said and you know it! Now quit pretending you don’t need advice about the new girl and tell me what the problem is.”

Pausing, I shake my head. “There really isn’t a problem. We just don’t get along.”

“But you wish you did,” Sarah says confidently.

I consider that for a moment. “I mean, it’s always nice to get along with your coworkers, isn’t it?”

That has her arching an eyebrow. “Would you say you get along with Nora?”

“That’s different. She’s my little sister.”

“And you’re my little brother, but we get along okay.” I give her a doubtful look, and she laughs. “Fine, we get along okay when I’m not giving you shit. But your relationship with Nora isn’t that different, it’s just that you’re the older sibling there. Still, I get your point. You know Nora, and you can choose to make nice or piss her off on purpose, because you know how to push her buttons. With a random coworker, you don’t necessarily want to do that.”

“Exactly.”

“Why don’t you get along?”

I sigh, turning to face her, my half of the shelf replenished. She finishes with the last of her side, then picks up the box and motions us to the next section with a nod of her head. “She’s just not nice to me.”

“Like how is she not nice?” she asks, setting down the box. “Does she call you mean names and stuff? Or talk to you like you’re stupid?”

“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not what I mean. She’s notmeanto me. She’s just not nice. Like with Nora and Mom and Dad, she’s sonice. Kind and warm and happy to chat. But with me, she’s just barely polite. That’s it.”

“Uh huh,” Sarah says, her mouth flat. “Okay. And what’d you do to her?”

I bristle at the accusation. “Nothing!”

“Yeah, no.” She brushes off her hands. “I’m not buying that.” She points at me. “Remember, I’ve known you your whole life. I know how you are. Either she did something that annoyed you or you were in a bad mood in general and you took it out on her. Was she always coldly polite to you? Or is there a point where it started?”

I think back over all our interactions. “She’s been this way since day one.”

“Right. And what happened on day one?”

Our interaction at lunch that day floats through my mind. “She called me a sourpuss.”

That makes Sarah laugh. “Oh, I like her already and I haven’t even met her. It’s hard to get away from the shop this time of year, but I might have to make an effort so I can get to know her.” When I give her a sour look, she draws a circle in the air near my face. “I bet that’s exactly how you looked at her that day. Were you in a bad mood about being an elf? Or did she do something specific to get that reaction from you?”

“She called me Elfie,” I grumble.

Clapping with delight, Sarah cackles. “Oh, that’s too perfect. Of course she did. But how did she know about Elfie? Did Nora tell her?”

With another groan, I tell her, “That’s how I was on the schedule the first week. I convinced Mom to use my real name after that, but the damage was done.”

Still cackling, Sarah finishes restocking this section and moves on. I trail after her, but I’m not really helping at this point. “So you were pissy and rude, she called you a sourpuss, and since then she’s been cool with you but nice to everyone else. Does that about sum it up?”

I shrug. “I also told her to tone down her cheerful elf routine when there weren’t people around.”

Sarah whirls on me, hands on her hips. “Oh my god, you didn’t.” I just shrug again. Sarah holds one hand out, the other rubbing the spot between her eyebrows. “Are you seriously telling me that you’re pissy she’s not being nice to you—not mean, just cool and polite and nothing more—because you literally told her to? Are you joking right now?”

“I didn’t tell her to!”

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