Merry Christikwanzannakka!

"Please, Jess?" I begged.
"Cecillia. No." jess grabs my arms, pulling them above my head and stepping out of my range.
"But...but..." i sputter futily, searching for an argument that I haven't yet used. Coming up empty, I growl, "You're so hardheaded!" and plop onto my bed, pouting.
Jess chuckles quietly. "Babygirl, I'm not hardheaded. You know what Smith said he'd do if I came up to the school again."
Jess and I had been friends since my freshman year of high school. Unforutnately, after one particularly nasty episode, he had been kicked out and banned from the campu.
"But it's Christmas!" I whinned. "Besides, it's not even a school function-it's a Christmas dinner. Even old numbnuts wouldn't be that cold!"
"Dime in the swear jar, babydgirl."
"Damnit, Jess!" I explode, "New Year's Resolutions only count between January first and January eigth. After that, they become void. Everybody knows that!" I stand, walking to my closet and pulling out a soft red wool dress.
"So, baby, when did you get religion?" jess smiles sarcastically.
"If you're gonna be a smartass, you can at least pull out my black hose for me." I snap, now digging under my bed for my black boots. "Besides, if you don't come with me, I'll be stuck between Charlie Manson and Beau Wilson, who is the shyest guy that I know."
"Well, honey, who am I to deprive you of what could be a fun-filled, joyous evenng?" I grab my purse and stomp to the door in response. "Have fun! Give Beau and Charlie my best!" he calls after me.
The high school's parking lot was, of course, full when I pulled in, the fun just beginning. Cars honked, trying not to hit the Nativity scene's cows and sheep that were beng herded by harried-looking shepherds. Shetland ponies for the "little 'uns" whinnied beside the larger horses, already harnessed up for the sleigh ride. The gym's front doors were thrown wide open, letting the light from inside pour out and causeing those drifting in and out of the gym resemble Jacob Marley.
"Cecillia!" Ms. Hooper cries as I walk in. Her Christmas sweater was blinking "Merry Christmas" in red lights, perfectly in time with the pulsing of reighndeer antlers perched on top of her tightly curled blue-gray hair. If ever there was a stereotype for tacky Southern Christmas attire, I believe that she topped it.
"Hey there, Ms. Hooper." I exclaim, momentarily blinded by the lights, "Don't you look..." I search for the right word, "festive!"
"Oh, thank you darlin'. Now you go on over- I can think of two young men just dying to see you!" she gave what could have been called a coquettish wink, if she were thirty years younger and even knew what the word met.
Grandma, looking dishevled with frizzed-out hair and her red Christmas tree sweater straining over her breasts and belly, waved as I walked by and silently pointing to a table set up close to the stage. Two figures are already seated there with various people coming over to crouch beside them for a moment or two before hurrying off.
Taking a deep breath and pasting on a smile, I begin to walk over, stopping to talk to all of the church members who had known me since I was born. About halfway to the tabl, I spot Charlie standing up and quicken my pace, silently begging that he keep his mouth shut and not make a huge scene.
"Sissy! Sissy! Over her!" he bellows, waving his plump arms in the air as if he were trying to steer an airplane to the runway.
"Oh, God." I blush, closing the gap between us more quickly than I thought possible.
"Look, Sissy, mistletoe! You've got to kiss me now." he laugs, pointing upward at the shrivled bunch of mistletoe just barely hanging on for dear life from a hook over the rail. Quickly, I peck him on the cheek and, turning to Beau, peck him as well.
"Merry christmas Beau."
"Merry Christmas, Cecillia." he stammers, pushing his flopping dark hair out of his eyes and turning as red as my dress. "You look pretty."
"And you look very handsome, Beau. I'm surprised that all the girls aren't fighting me for your attention." I joke flirtatiously. Beau blused a deeper red than I thought was possible, and Charlie glowers at both of us.
"So how was it?" Jess aks later that night. He wassitting on the roof smoking when I got home, and I sit on the window sill, passing a cig back and forth between us.
I roll my eyes, unzipping my boots and kicking them off. "Well, Charlie's breath has gotten worse and I swear that he dragged me over to the mistletod at least a dozen times. Then he tried to grope me on the sleigh ride."
"I'm sorry, babygirl." he smirks, crawling inside and peeling off his jacket and boots. "But if I know my girl, he got his."
I laugh, "Yep, I said that if he wanted to keep his hands they had better stay far away from me."
"That's my girl."