Luke held up his mittened hands in defeat. "Okay, okay. Sheesh. But couldn’t we have waited until Darren could help us? At least he wouldn't have to freeze his fingers off putting these up by hand, he could just use his telekinesis."
A light frosting of snowflakes covered the roof and left a white ring around Luke's cap and the dark hair that peeked out from under it.
I shivered and pulled my winter coat tighter around me. "That's cheating. And, no, we couldn't wait. He's on assignment, and this has to get done now. We have a very small window between junior year finals and Christmas with which to deck the halls, and this is it. Quit being a baby."
He pushed the staple gun with more force than was necessary and grunted. "I don’t see you two up here risking frostbite."
Lucy smirked, her brown eyes dancing with their typical mischief. "Someone has to supervise."
Once he stapled in the last of the lights, he climbed down the ladder, looked up at the lights, and draped an arm around each of us. "Not bad, ladies. Not bad at all. I will concede that we are far superior to any maintenance crew."
I surveyed our work. White lights hung like icicles from the roof, and the coolest Santa and reindeer set ever made sat atop the building next to the chimney. My art teacher and I had crafted the scene out of metal plates we'd made by soldering together recycled soda cans. We then hand painted the silver using paint mixed with glitter to give it a magical quality. During the day, the sun reflected off the glitter and made it look sparkly. At night, the moon reflected off it and it looked as if it was glowing.
On the snow-covered lawn in front of our dorms, we'd put up four reindeer made of white lights, each in a different position as if grazing on the ice.
The clock tower clanged and I looked at my watch. "We've got to go! The tree lighting ceremony is about to start." It had gotten dark so fast we'd lost track of time.
I walked with my two best friends through campus, greeting other students on the way. Looking around at the winter wonderland of snow-capped Tudor-style buildings surrounded by large oak and elm trees, with Narnia style lamp posts to light our way on the cobbled paths that connected the campus, it was easy to imagine we lived in a fairy tale. Most people would not suspect that this was really a super secret school for kids with paranormal powers. We'd dubbed it Rent-A-Kid, since part of our training included being rented out to the very rich as spies.
I pushed that thought out of my mind as we neared the large Christmas tree in the center of campus. Unless there was a major emergency with an important client, my friends and I had been assured we'd get the next two weeks off school and work in order to celebrate Christmas and relax, and I intended to use that time well.
Dozens of students swarmed the snack table and filled cups with hot chocolate and cider. We squeezed our way in and secured our own drinks and cookies, then wandered over to the tree. Old Charlie worked to place the last of the decorations as we walked up.
I handed him the extra cup of coffee I'd poured. "You look cold."
He took it and blew on the steam. "Thanks, Sam. I'm okay. My old bones aren’t what they used to be."
Old Charlie was a fixture at Rent-A-Kid. He'd guarded our entrance for as long as I could remember, and it was his tradition each year to light the tree at Christmas. I didn't know a lot about him, other than the fact that he'd been Special Ops in the U.S. military and could still be lethal if needed. He'd done some demonstrations for us that put Chuck Norris to shame.
"What are your plans for the holidays?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.
"Oh, you know me. I'll rent a few movies and spend a relaxing time at home."
This was code for he'd once again spend Christmas alone. Normally, I didn't pry. People trusted that I'd stay out of their thoughts as much as I could—it was the only way to keep friends around here—but this time an unseen force pushed me to open up to him.
'Miss Barbara so much. Wonder what Sheryl's doing this year. So many regrets.'
His thoughts spiraled into sadness and I looked away so that my expression didn't betray my own feelings. He hadn't seen his daughter in ten years. Why? I could only tell that he felt guilty about something. I probed deeper and saw images of his wife who had died ten years ago. He'd had a falling out with his daughter who blamed him for her mother's death… no, not her death, blamed him for being gone most of her life, for not being there to care for her mother when she died.
Now his daughter lived far away and he was too scared to call her and reconnect.
Without betraying what I knew, or what I planned to do with this knowledge, I smiled at Charlie, turned away, and found my friends holding a spot for me in front of the tree.