Page 17 of A More Than Mayhem Christmas

Cameron chuckles, then looks around before clapping his hands and shrieking, “Logan’s here!” He practically skips toward the couch and makes quick work of removing Lucy from Logan’s lap, then taking her spot. Both legs over Logan’s, he pats Logan’s head. Or, at least, that’s what it looks like. It’s not until the egg yolk oozes down Logan’s forehead that I realize what’s happening.

Where the hell did he get the egg from?

Eyes closed, Logan grips his beer tighter and murmurs, “You fucker.”

“Clear it,” Jake calls, and Cam leans back, giving Jake the line of sight he needs to pitch an egg directly at Logan’s chest.

“Oof,” Logan winces, smearing the egg on his sweatshirt as he rubs at the spot. “That one fucking hurt.”

Now it’s Jake’s turn to skip over to the couch, singing, “Yay! Logan’s here!” He sits on the other side of Logan, lifting his legs over Cameron’s.

Amanda giggles. “Idiots,” she mutters, just as Cam smashes another egg on Logan’s head.

He rubs it in this time, ruffling Logan’s hair when he asks, in a tone used for a kid, “How you doing there, buddy?”

Again,where are they getting these eggs?

Logan cracks a smile, only one eye open to avoid the yolk streaming down his face. “Good now,” he says, pulling his friends in closer. “I got two bad bitches on my lap.”

Cam laughs, tells him, “Fuck off,” and tries to pull away, but Logan’s grip on his shoulder forces him to stay.

The front door opens again, and Dylan and Riley appear.

“Dylan!” Lucy shouts, and we all turn silent. It’s a stupid joke that’s gone on for far too long, but we can’t seem to shake it.

Riley looks shocked at what she just walked into. Dylan, though? He doesn’t seem the slightest bit phased.

The boys all stand, their spines ramrod straight as Dylan approaches them. He looks each one of them up and down—Cam splattered with ketchup and mustard, Jake reeking of fish, and Logan with literal egg on his face. Dylan shakes his head, utters, “Weak.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the other boys say in unison.

“Sorry, sir!” Logan yells.

“Pathetic,” Dylan jokes.

Riley places Katie’s gift under the tree while Logan finally relaxes and takes his first bite of the cookie.

“You have cookies?” Dylan asks, all excited, his voice filled with childish glee.

Lucy replies, “Just the one for Logan, sorry.”

Dylanpouts.

“We have cookie dough, I think,” Cameron tells him.

“Fuck yeah!” The boys all rush into the kitchen, forcing us girls out of the way. We move to the living room and sit on the floor by the Christmas tree.

“Oh, my god,” Riley mumbles, removing her coat. “It took us so long just to come up the driveway. Dylan kept stopping and starting, thinking he was under attack.”

Lucy laughs, looking over at the guys in the kitchen. “Nah. They’re too scared to mess with the King of Mayhem.”

8

Heidi

Lucy’s cabin hasn’t changed much in the few years since I’ve been here. That’s not to say that I haven’t been home in years; it just means that when I do come home, it’s really only for special occasions. The last time I saw my friends was at Katie’s birthday party earlier in the year, but that was at the main house. I prefer attending those kinds of celebrations, rather than the closed-wall intimate gatherings that usually take place here.

Throughout high school—unless I could convince my ex, Dylan, otherwise—the cabin was where we spent most of our Friday and Saturday nights. Even then, I felt like an outsider. The boys were Dylan’s friends, not mine, and as much as I love Lucy, the things we had in common were very few and far between.

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