“You’re right. I know. Prague will be amazing. I’ll think of you while I eat stale cake and drink reduced fat eggnog,” I joke, giggling. “Plus, I’m sure your dad will enjoy having you to himself for two weeks.”
She sighs. “It’s going to be magical.” Just as we get to my car, she gasps. “Oh my god, you should totally come with us!”
I stop walking and stare at her, my keys dangling in my hand. “What? No. I can’t. Your dad would never let me.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Besides, my parents wouldn’t want me to miss my last Christmas home before college.”
The thought of Prague at Christmastime, though…
She squeals and jumps up and down, drawing several people to stare at us. “Oh my god, I’m totally going to ask him if you can come too.”
“No. I can’t, Felicity—”
“We leave the day after Christmas, Wren, so you could still celebrate with your family.”
I tap my jaw. “It sounds fun in theory, but there’s no way your dad is going to let me mooch off of him for two weeks.”
No way in hell.
“Please. We have so many airline points from shuffling me between New York and Boston. And the apartment is already paid for. If you bring spending money, I don’t see why it would be a problem.”
Except that I can tell your dad hates me.
I look down at my snow boots, contemplating. Am I really considering this? It would mean two weeks in Europe. Europe! I renewed my passport last year, I have some spending money from my summer job, and if I promise to spend actual Christmas day with my family, I don’t see why they wouldn’t let me go. On the other hand, it would be two weeks in Europe with Mr. Cooper. Living in the same space, eating with him, talking to him. The thought sends nervous flutters through me—and not the good kind. In fact, that sounds kind of awful.
“Come on, Wren. Would you rather spend a week with Grandma Mildred—bless her heart—where your only reprieve is fucking Taylor Harris? Or would you rather be in Prague?! It’s not a hard choice. The guy doesn’t even know where your clit is.”
I burst out laughing. “He knows where it is—”
Someone clears their throat behind me, and I turn to find Mr. Cooper glaring at us.
Oh god, did he hear that?
He gives me a stone-cold frown before turning his attention to Felicity. “Do you need a ride home today?”
“No, Wren can drive me. I think we’re going to stop by Starbucks and grab a coffee first.” She looks between us, knitting her eyebrows together as if she can sense the tension.
Mr. Cooper looks back at me, his eyes vacant and cold. He’s in a black leather coat, and he’s holding a pair of leather gloves. I must admit, the man has style.
“Very well. Drive safe.” He turns to go.
“Hey, dad,” she says sweetly, and I can see Mr. Cooper’s muscled back tense. “I was thinking, what if Wren came with us to Prague?”
His fists clench around his gloves, and I pretend I don’t notice the whole seven seconds it takes for him to turn around and face us.
“I don’t know, Felicity,” he says, sighing as he pockets his gloves and rubs his face. He doesn’t even look at me. “I was hoping you and I could explore the city. You know, have some time to bond before you go off to college next year.”
I tamp down the sting of rejection. He’s being polite, but I know that my going would be his worst nightmare.
“It’s fine,” I say to both of them. “Really. I’d rather keep it low key this year anyway.”
Felicity frowns. “She has her own spending money. I have a billion points from seeing mom, and we have a two-bedroom apartment in Prague. She can sleep with me, and you and I can still explore the city together in the mornings, because Wren sleeps until noon most days.” She quirks her eyebrows.
My cheeks heat. “I do not.”
I turn to face Mr. Cooper fully. “I don’t want to go,” I explain, crossing my arms. “I wouldn’t want to interfere. It was all her idea.”
Why does my chest feel tight? Why do I feel like crying? I grind my jaw and climb into the driver’s seat without looking at either of them. I roll my eyes when I hear Felicity whispering furiously, so I slam my door shut.
It’s fine. I didn’t even want to go that badly. I am more than happy to stay in New York and visit my family, like every other year. Maybe Felicity and I can meet up in Europe next Christmas. It is short notice, even if I wanted to make a case for going. I lean back in my seat, but I don’t dare a glance out of my window. I can’t handle Mr. Cooper’s annoyed face, or the look of contempt he’ll no doubt send my way for even suggesting that I tag along on his trip.
I press the start button and wait for Felicity to get in. Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I nearly jump out of my seat when Mr. Cooper knocks on my window. Scowling, I roll it down.
“Yes?” I ask, matching his cool gaze with one of my own.
He smirks slightly, cocking his head as he leans a forearm on the top of my window. The leather squeaks against the metal of my car, and I ignore the whiff of mint that must be coming from him.
He opens his mouth to speak, but Felicity pulls the passenger door open. I look away from Mr. Cooper, frowning at my friend for putting me in this position. It was stupid to even ask, and I hope he doesn’t think I’m trying to sneak onto his coveted trip to Europe. I can be daft, but I’m not that daft.
Felicity grins and screeches and she plops down into the passenger seat. “He said you can come!”
I snap my head to Mr. Cooper. “What?”
He just shrugs. “If it’s what Felicity wants, you are welcome to come to Prague with us, Wren.”
My stomach flips. “No. I’m okay.”
Something flashes across his face, and when I go to roll the window up, the sheer force of his arm causes the power window engine to groan against him.
“What the hell, Wren?” Felicity whines from next to me. “He said you could go!”
I thin my lips and look back at Mr. Cooper, my gaze cold. “I don’t need your pity or charity,” I say quickly.
“We want you to go,” my friend adds, but Mr. Cooper’s eyes narrow slightly.
I want him to say it. He must see the challenge behind my eyes because he slightly twists his mouth to the side.
“We’d be delighted if you came with us.”
Fake.
Fake fake fake.
I meant it earlier, though. I don’t need anyone’s charity. I would be perfectly content at Grandma Mildred’s house. That was the plan, and I was expecting an uneventful two weeks of bad Christmas movies and dry, spiralized ham. I’d already mentally prepared myself for that. Mr. Cooper could take that false enthusiasm and shove it up his nice ass.
But…
Two weeks in Europe? In Prague, no less? Was I really going to let my hatred for Mr. Cooper be the reason I missed out on a life-changing experience? I was eighteen. I’m sure my parents would be excited and thrilled for me, since they seemed to love Mr. Cooper. My application to NYU was ready to send in, and I could make a quick note about the trip. It might help to have some cultural experience to reference. More than anything, though… it was Prague. At Christmastime. And it would be mostly free.