Page 61 of Cross Check Christmas
Oh no. No, no, no.
I try to push myself up, but it's like I'm superglued in place. The metal burns cold against my flesh, and panic starts to bubble up in my chest. All I can think about is that scene from A Christmas Story where the kid gets his tongue stuck to the flagpole. Except this is so much worse.
"Um, Hendrix?" My voice comes out squeaky. "We might have a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
"I'm... stuck."
"Stuck how?"
"My... my behind is frozen to your fender."
There's a long pause, followed by, "Your what is what?"
"My... my butt is frozen to your truck."
Silence. Then a snort. Then full-blown laughter.
"This isn't funny!" But I'm fighting giggles myself. "I'm literally freezing my butt off here! I can't move!"
The wind whips around me, and I shiver, trying desperately not to think about how much skin-to-metal contact is currently happening. Or how I'm going to explain this to the emergency services if we have to call them.
"Don't you dare peek!" I warn as I hear his boots crunching in the snow. "Just... help me figure this out."
He rounds the corner, takes one look at me trying to cover myself with my sweater, and doubles over laughing.
I try to maintain some dignity as Hendrix rounds the corner, but it's impossible when you're half-naked and stuck to a truck fender in the middle of nowhere. His eyes meet mine, and he loses it completely, doubling over with uncontrollable laughter.
"This isn't—" I start to scold him, but then the absurdity of the situation hits me. A snort escapes me, then a giggle, and suddenly I'm laughing so hard tears freeze on my cheeks.
"I'm sorry," Hendrix wheezes between fits of laughter. "Though I have to say, you've really made an impression on my truck."
"Oh my goodness, stop." I'm laughing so hard my abs hurt.
He finally catches his breath and straightens up, assessing my predicament with mock seriousness. "Okay, so you're really stuck?"
"Yes!"
"Okay, okay." He tries to compose himself, but his shoulders are still shaking. "We need something hot to melt you free."
"What about the truck's heater? Could we redirect it somehow?"
"Unless you want to rip out my entire heating system, that's not going to work." He scratches his chin, thinking. "I could try breathing on it?"
"Hendrix, focus!" I'm torn between laughing and crying now. "I'm losing feeling in places I'd rather not mention."
"Right, sorry." He pulls off his coat and drapes it around my shoulders, careful to keep his eyes averted. "Let me think. We need something hot..."
The wind whips around us, and I clutch his coat tighter, trying to maintain what little dignity I have left. Khan meowsfrom inside the truck, probably wondering what kind of circus he's gotten himself into.
"Maybe if we—" Hendrix starts.
"If you suggest peeing on it, I will end you."
"I wasn't even thinking that," Hendrix gasps between renewed fits of laughter. "But now that you mention it?—"
"Don't you dare!" But I'm giggling too, despite the freezing wind and my increasingly numb posterior. "This is mortifying enough without you making it worse."
