Chapter Two
"We count down the days just to experience it nearly exactly as we always have. It is so comfortable, familiar, and perfectly nostalgic that, frankly, we have no desire to improve upon it at all." – Joanna Gaines
“You aren’t angry with her. Are you? Don’t get me wrong but you were not yourself yesterday. It’s Christmas and it’s really hard to see my two best friends fighting. We were supposed to make Grandma Hood's favorite cupcakes, right?”
Tom looked up at his friend Lee as he pulled the baking tray from the oven. Tom looked at the gingerbread cookies. Belle likes Miss Gingerbread with pink sprinkles on them, he thought.
“You should bake them more. It’s undercooked,” Tom said as he went back to his work. Grandma’s Reindeer Cupcake was in his mind. He never forgets that.
Lee pushed the tray back and snapped the door shut.
During Christmas, he has been taught to help selflessly but when it comes to his two best friends, he doesn’t know what to do? Whose side would he choose if they both parted ways? Lee’s mom thinks Lee is acting too much. Nothing would happen.
“I bought it new, Lee.” Tom pointed towards the oven.
“Seeing both of you like this, I cannot control my anger,” Lee said.
“It’s between us. It will get all right soon. Nothing new.”
“I don’t think that…”
What do you have to do with it?” Tom asked. Now irritated by the fact that Lee was again bringing up the old stuff that he wished to forget.
“You both are my friends. And I don’t know whom to side with?” Lee filled his mug with coffee that he desperately needs right now. If his mom sees this, she would not let him be at Sharks shop next time. Lee already had four cups since morning, if one doesn’t include two mochas that he drank in the afternoon time with Tom’s father.
“Be on hers. She is the one who started it as always.” Tom whipped some cream over the white cupcake. He topped it with a cherry. God, he hates cherry so much now. It reminds him of hers.
“Don’t you think you are acting a little possessive these days?” Lee ran his fingers through his hair. His hair is soft, unlike Tom’s curly hair.
“I have no idea where you get that.”
“Everyone can see that except you and Belle.”
“It’s just because it’s nothing like that.”
“Yeah, yeah. Say that to yourself. Try to be straight, Tom. Games won’t work on Belle.”
Tom was about to pass the tray to his co-worker when his hands stopped in mid-air. He turned towards his friend. “What do you mean by that?”
“I am talking about the game you have been playing around for the past couple of days. Dude, say to her directly that you like her. Why games? She is our Belle! Not some random girl from the neighborhood.”
“You don’t have to shout. I already know.”
“Then I think my work here is done.” Lee placed the empty mug in the washer and put the oven off before taking his coat off the hanger. “You should tell her everything before she leaves, Merry Christmas,” he said as he went out of the backdoor.