Page 12 of Joy to the Girls (She Gets the Girl #2)

It’s hard not to feel elated after how well the accepted students’ event went.

I catch sight of myself smiling at my reflection in the window, but when I turn my head to look over at Alex, my spirits sink.

She’s been acting… off since I met back up with them.

I’ve caught her looking at me twice now like she’s about to ask me something, but then she never does.

I feel this weird, bad energy sitting between us in the backseat that makes my chest ache again.

She’s definitely suspicious of me, and it’s not like I can blame her.

Everyone was right, I should have told her from the start.

But I can’t right now, since she’s hanging over the seat, digging around in the trunk.

“Whoa. Dibs on this guy,” Alex says, grunting as she pulls up… a whole freaking axe. Thoughts of King’s College disappear in an instant.

“May! Why do you have that in your trunk?!” I ask, immediately grabbing the wooden handle and forcing it down on the floor beneath my feet, away from Alex.

May peeks back at me in the rearview. “You do a lot of worrying, don’t you, Molly?”

“Worrying?” I ask, looking around incredulously at Alex and Cora, who seem shockingly unbothered. “THERE IS AN AXE LOOSE IN A MOVING CAR, PEOPLE! WHY IS NO ONE ELSE CONCERNED ABOUT THIS?”

“Because the chances of it accidentally killing one of us in a car accident have to be so low,” Cora replies, clearly entertained by all this. “Well, maybe a bit higher with Alex swinging it around.”

“But never zero! I mean, have you never seen Final Destination ?”

“I told you not to watch that, Molly!” Alex says.

“Oh, look. We’re here, and no one was killed by the loose axe,” May says as I shake my head in disbelief. “Welcome to Swanson’s Christmas Tree Farm.”

We all glue our faces to the windows as May pulls off onto a gravel road lined with hundreds and hundreds of pine trees of all types in perfect rows.

She drives past all the people and the little store, into an area marked EMPLOYEES ONLY on a hand-painted sign.

Thank God, because all the other parking spots seem to be taken.

We jump out, and Alex thankfully leaves the axe behind after I give her a stern look. We walk back through the snow into the main area, where a very large old man dressed like a lumberjack emerges from the crowd, with red flannel shirt and suspenders to boot. He wraps May in a hug.

“May! You’ve brought me some free labor. I always knew you were my favorite granddaughter,” he whispers, before turning to size up the three of us. “Okay. You and you are with me in the shop.” He points at me and Cora.

“Grandpa, they aren’t here for—” May starts anxiously, but her grandpa isn’t listening.

“And you…” He pauses on Alex. “You look like someone who wants to swing an axe. Am I right?”

“Yes, sir,” she says, beaming up at him like all her dreams are coming true.

“So we’ll keep you far away from them!” He laughs from his belly. Alex physically deflates, but I let out an audible breath of relief. “Help May on loading. We could use your height.” Then he turns, motioning for me and Cora to follow him.

May’s shoulders droop as she starts to apologize for us being roped into working, but we all brush her off.

I’d love to check out the shop, and even though Alex won’t be handling a deadly weapon today, I’m sure she’ll manage to find her way into some trouble.

Not to mention I don’t mind a little space and distraction from the weirdness between us.

We split off from Alex and May and follow Mr. Swanson into the gift shop. We’re hit immediately with a scent that can only be described as a wave of Christmas. It smells like pine trees and cinnamon sticks and wood logs burning in a fireplace all at once.

“Grandpa, are you putting people to work again?” a woman a few years older than us says from behind the register.

Her long hair is the same brown as May’s, and she flips it behind her before leaning on the rustic wooden counter.

The name tag pinned to her chest reads ALICE , and I realize this must be one of May’s four older sisters.

Her eyes flick to Cora in sympathy. “When I brought my first boyfriend home from college, Grandpa had him here at five a.m. every day working for free.”

Cora’s cheeks turn faintly red.

May’s grandpa shakes his head, arms crossing over his checkered flannel.

“Doesn’t sound like me. But whoever it was who did that to him probably just wanted to make sure he was worthy of dating you,” he replies, eyeing Cora, who looks like she might pee her pants.

Alice rolls her eyes, but she can’t help but smile at him as he heads for the door, saying, “Anyway, put ’em to work, Alice.

I’m heading out to make sure the axe-happy blonde didn’t get ahold of one. ” He waves and then leaves.

“Just ignore him. You two can get out of here. There’s an apple cider stand down the hill by the parking lot if you’re interested,” Alice says, pointing outside.

I look at Cora and pull my eyebrows up to ask if she wants to peruse the holiday drinks, but she stands frozen to the ground, staring at the empty space where May’s lumberjack grandpa once stood.

“Cora?” I try, and finally her eyes shift to meet mine.

She ducks her head and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Why did he just say that? Why was he looking at me like that? Do you think May said something to him?”

“No. I think he just has two working eyes,” I reply. “I’m telling you… everyone but you and May can see that something is going on between you two. Now, come on. I need to peruse the holiday libations.” I link my arm through hers, but she pulls back.

“Wait. Should I stay and like… work?” she asks. “I want to make a good impression on her grandpa, right?”

“Something tells me that May isn’t going to let her grandpa select her girlfriend for her. Let’s go.” I pull her reluctantly out the door and down the cobblestone walkway in the direction Alice pointed.

As we stand in a long line of people, Cora’s hip bumps into mine. “So… how’d it go?”

I grin and turn my head to look at her. “Cora. It went so well.” The wait flies by as I tell her all about the curriculum, the student life, the people on the call.

She nods along excitedly as the two of us clutch our warm paper cups and walk through the rows and rows of trees.

Between the smell of fresh pine, the beautiful white snow, and all the families and kids giggling past, the Christmas magic just has me feeling like everything is going to be okay.

“So you’re definitely going?”

“Definitely.”

“So you’re going to finally tell Alex?”

“I’m—”

I don’t get to finish because we skid to a stop at the sound of her voice. I peer around the trees to see her and May standing by the big white-and-green tube of a Christmas tree netter. And May is in the process of boosting my girlfriend straight through it.

“Alex!” I yell out, and from half in and half out of the machine, she swings her head around to look at me.

“What? Why am I getting in trouble?!” She manages to just barely point at May through the netting, which has her arms glued down at her sides. “ She’s the one putting me through!”

“Something tells me it wasn’t her idea!”

A laughing May pushes Alex the rest of the way through, and she flops onto the ground with a grunt, wrapped tightly in a white net, green eyes peeking out through two squares. “Okay,” she says, rolling from side to side, looking like an oversize worm. “That was not as fun as it looked on YouTube.”

I plant a foot on either side of her, and she grins sheepishly up at me. “A little help?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

May appears, brandishing a pocketknife, and gets to work on freeing her.

“Well, Blackwood, you’re practically an official Swanson now,” she says, grunting as she carefully cuts the netting off Alex. “Getting put through this baby is basically a rite of passage around here.”

“Really?” Alex asks, eagerly sitting up and simultaneously swiping my apple cider.

“No.” May slices off the last of the netting. “I’m pretty sure even our little cousin has the brain cells to know that is a terrible idea.”

Alex frowns. “You know what—” She’s about to really give it back to May when a snowball beats her to it, smacking May square in the stomach. We all look over to see a group of teens charging in our direction, snowballs flying.

“Run!” Alice shouts, right before I spot her absolutely booking it right past us.

May and Cora take off after her, and I start to pull Alex along, but she stays put. She holds up a finger for me to wait and then chugs the rest of my apple cider before finally running alongside me.

Her delay earns her a well-deserved snowball in the back as we follow our friends.

It seems nowhere is safe, though. As we run, kids, adults, teenagers, even an old lady with a pile of snowballs in her walker basket, attack our group from every direction. When we catch up to the rest of our group, May calls out to her sister, “How many people?”

“Whole farm,” Alice says, scooping up some snow as she runs before pelting a middle schooler in the stomach. “Keep your eyes out. Grandpa’s out for blood!”

“?‘The whole farm’? ‘Grandpa is out for blood’?! What kind of Christmas tree farm is this? What is happening?” I ask, backing up against Alex for safety.

May kneels down to begin gathering up snow. “It’s tradition. He does it every year. We just never know what day Grandpa is going to initiate it. For real, watch your back. He’s got a cannon. Just ask Alice. She took one straight to the face last year.”

“It’s true. I’m pretty sure my nose is still a little crooked. You guys have fun. I’m too old for this shit,” Alice replies, already halfway to the parking lot.

“Oh, real nice, Alice!” May calls after her as Cora dives down into the snow to help make snowballs.

“Babe,” Alex whispers, nudging me. “Follow my lead. I’m about to get something going between them.” I nod, and she addresses the group. “Guys, let’s take cover behind that shed over there.” She points to a small green building that sits on the other side of a very wide-open space.

May and Cora look at each other before gathering up their snowballs and taking their marks. I step up beside them, ready to run as fast as I can, but Alex reaches out to keep my forearm in place.

She counts down. “Three, two, one… GO!”

May and Cora take off, but Alex stays right where she is, and so do I.

A wide smile spreads across her face as the two of them step out into the open and are immediately pelted with snowballs.

May and Cora look back for us, but instead they find us tucked safely away out of the line of fire.

May shakes her head, while Cora points a vengeful finger at us and shouts something derogatory.

But when I look closer, they’re both cracking up, even as they take on one snowball after another, sparkly white powder filling the air around them.

And then May reaches over and takes Cora’s hand right before our very eyes to pull her the rest of the way to the shed.

It’s happening!

I look at Alex, and she looks back at me. Both of us squeal with excitement as we grab for each other’s hands and then pull each other into a tight hug.

“My girlfriend is a genius!” I tell her.

“That might be true, but we’d better get moving. They’re going to be coming for us,” she says. We bolt behind a nearby snowdrift and then begin furiously making an enormous stockpile of snowballs. My mittens get soaked through, but Alex has it worse—her hands turn red from the cold.

Undeterred, Alex grabs one with a satisfied nod. She puts a finger to her lips before popping her head around the snowdrift to attack.

She rears her arm back to throw, but less than half a second later, a snowball pelts her square in the face.

Luckily, it’s not thrown by Lumberjack Grandpa.

Instead, May’s laugh rings out in the distance as she gets her revenge.

Alex falls into me, and I catch her, dusting the snow off her nose and eyes.

“Molly—” she gasps out, and I hold back a grin at her theatrics. “The past few years have been”—she coughs, her gaze turning skyward—“absolute magic. If I die, just know that I always loved you….”

She goes limp at the exact moment a snowball smacks me right in the shoulder. Hard.

“Oh, hell no.”

I drop Alex, and she lets out a groan as she hits the ground, but my eyes are already fixed on our revenge. I double-fist two snowballs and let out a battle cry as I stand and start throwing. The world around me is a blur of white as I go through our entire pile, leaving nobody safe.

Alex sits up, peeking over the edge of the snowdrift to witness the men, women, and children falling in my warpath.

After taking out what feels like half of Barnwich, I hold on to my last snowball, looking.

Finally I see May frozen in the distance, watching the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and horror on her face.

Winding up, I let it rip. The snowball soars through the air in slow motion, then hits her square in the face.

Alex whistles as I slump down next to her, my chest heaving. Our backs are pressed up against the snowdrift, our shoulders squished together.

“That was hot.”

I push her into the snow, and she immediately pulls me down on top of her. She reaches up to touch my face, fingertips cold, cheeks rosy.

“You know I’ve always got your back, Blackwood,” I say, hesitating for just a second because saying that makes me feel a bit like a fraud, even though it’s true. Alex’s eyes search mine, but before she can say anything, I kiss her icy lips.