Merry Little Love Story in Reindeer Falls - Beth Labonte Page 0,1

his hands on my waist and I rested mine on the front of his coat. “Another year.”

“Another year,” he repeated wistfully.

“You know, this time next year we’ll both be in college,” I said. “Maybe you won’t even want to come down here anymore.”

Here’s the thing. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew that people who only saw each other for one week out of an entire year didn’t usually end up together forever. At some point between January and December, they’d meet other people. They’d move on. Ryan and I had even made a pact back when we were fifteen, and had shared our first kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve. We’d agreed that if we were both still single the following year, we would pick up right where we’d left off; but if either of us was dating someone else, we’d go back to being friends. So far, we’d both remained unattached.

“I will never not want to come down here,” said Ryan, his eyes sparkling as he glanced at the Falls. He pulled me in closer. “Unless, of course, you meet some hot Smoky Mountain guy right after I get on the plane tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” I said, rolling my eyes.

I knew every guy my age in this town, and nobody had ever compared to Ryan. It wasn’t that we had a ton in common, exactly. Ryan was this worldly rich kid from Boston who turned into Buddy the Elf whenever he was in Reindeer Falls. Me? I’d been raised by my grandparents since I was six, when my mother took off to Arizona with her new boyfriend, one week before Christmas. I never even met my dad, and I’d certainly never left the state of Tennessee. Even so, Ryan and I always had exactly what the other needed.

He’d come into my life just a week after my mother had left—a tiny ray of sunshine in the middle of the storm. Ryan’s parents deserted him every year, the moment Christmas was over, while Dottie, Gran, Gramps, and I welcomed him to Reindeer Falls with open arms. The two of us had looked forward to this week together for nearly our entire lives.

I stepped away from the tree, pulling Ryan along with me to one of the wooden benches. It was late afternoon on New Year’s Eve, which was always our last night together. New Year’s Eve being our last night together was tradition, like fireworks and Dick Clark. Only, Ryan going home was anything but a rockin’ good time. Ryan going home was a knife to my heart. Not that there was anything to be done about it. We were only seventeen, and a long-distance relationship just wasn’t realistic.

“What time is the party again?” asked Ryan.

“Seven.” The town always held a New Year’s Eve party for teenagers over at the community center. There would be plenty of food, music, and dancing, but I didn’t particularly want to go. Why celebrate the coming of a new year when all I wanted was to stretch out the last week of December into infinity? “We don’t have to go, you know? Gran and Gramps go to bed early. We could hang out at my house.” I looked up at him and waggled my eyebrows.

“But the party’s a tradition,” he said, as I knew he would. I’d probably have been worried about him if he hadn’t turned me down. “We can’t just skip out on a tradition. Not here. Not on the last night of the year.”

“Okay, okay,” I said. It wasn’t easy competing with an entire town for Ryan’s affection. “It’s just been a long month, you know? If I have to hear ‘Holly Jolly Christmas’ one more time, or sing at that Christmas show one more year…”

Ryan chuckled. “One of these years I’m going to get down here before Christmas, so I don’t keep missing out on all the good stuff.”

I snorted. “Right. You only get to go to fancy holiday parties, have your family’s Christmas tree photographed for magazines, get pretty much any gift that you want…” I counted each surreal item off on my fingers. “You have plenty of Christmas magic back home. Trust me.”

“True,” said Ryan, taking my hand and interlacing our fingers. “But it’s not the same. All those things take is money. Which works out well for my parents, because they don’t have to put any thought into what they get me. But down here, it’s different. It’s like…real, you know? It’s in the air. You