#and this is RETAIL and i have customers who are nightmares <3 and its still so much better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artificialqueens · 3 years

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The Second Best That I Could Do (When the Perfect Gift is You) (Rosnali/Scyvie) - Ashley

A/N: Working almost every day of the holidays, Denali was convinced that Christmas was well and truly ruined for herself. Until, of course, Santa sent a pink-haired musical theatre fanatic down the escalator who just might be the best gift she could get. Scarlet’s Christmas couldn’t be going better; by some miracle, she managed to pick Yvie out of the work’s secret Santa and she knew exactly what she’s going to buy her…so just what exactly could go wrong? (6k)

So I actually managed to finish a second fic this year?? It’s a Christmas miracle. This one shot is set in my Got My Number universe (near the beginning of If We Walk Down This Road) however you don’t have to have read any of those fics to understand this so feel free to just take it as it is and let me know if you enjoy <3

Happy belated birthday @artificialortega, this ones for you x

(fic challenge words: shop, gift, family)

To describe working in retail during the build-up to Christmas as a nightmare was an understatement. If Denali had to put it into words, she’d say it was more of a simulated reality, a fucked-up episode of Black Mirror where everyone in radius seemed to lose all concepts of human decency and she was the only person left with the power to harness common sense and rational thought.

Just last week she had to explain to a lady why a voucher for a completely different shop wouldn’t work at the till last week, culminating in a team meeting where she was forced to apologise for “rolling her eyes like a fruit machine at the customers” because, of course, they’re always right.

Of course, it wasn’t always too bad, there were nights like Wednesday when the mothers of the town were too busy waiting for their kid to say a line in the nativity to get into fights about three-draw storage units and the store would find its own lull, leaving Denali free to hide in the lamp aisle (her favourite one, shortly preceded by the one with all the fake flowers).

A few people her own age would stumble in, grabbing some frozen sausage rolls from the Iceland section and browsing all the stationary before getting on their way. A trip to the retail park and big Tesco was a big deal when you’re a student in essay season so Denali was never too surprised to see them on those kinds of nights.

Yet somehow, she found herself completely and utterly gobsmacked at the sight of Rosé McCorkell coming down the escalator basket in hand, her carnation pink curls spilling out of her scrunchie to catch Denali’s eye right away.

Denali had read about carnations in a mythology book her Nana had bought her one birthday. The Goddess Diana fancied a young shepherd boy who rejected her so she ripped out his eyes and threw them into the soil, sprouting into the carnation. She couldn’t really imagine liking someone enough that she’d want to rip their eyes straight from the head if they rejected her but then again, she also never understood why the dumb shepherd boy rejected the literal goddess of hunting in the first place.

It was safe to say Denali had always had a thing for absolutely terrifying women.

Not that Rosé seemed the type of person to rip people’s eyes out or anything but Denali had tried out against her for the role of Fanny Brice in their musical theatre group and she’d still not properly recovered (she’d never imagined a rendition of Don’t Rain on My Parade could be scary or sexy yet somehow it was both? And if she was being honest, she hadn’t known whether to cry or say hello to the heel of her foot when she’d gotten home that night).

Pretty soon she made her way towards the checkouts and Denali wondered why on earth she'd left the house wearing a little tartan skirt considering it was snowing outside and the colours clashed with just about everything else she had on. Despite spending around ten weeks awed by Rosé’s talent and beauty, Denali drew the line at the girl’s taste level - a big, black line that painted over all the mismatching patterns and unnecessary ruffles that burned her retinas more and more every rehearsal.

And this was coming from someone who’d spent twenty years watching ice skating competitions.

Not that she minded too much that day, the sight of Rosé’s long legs striding over making her own almost too weak to hold her weight.

Maybe she did need her eyes tearing out after all.

“Hey.” She popped her things down on the conveyor: two packs of laminating sheets, a pink notebook with a matching pen, a box of Turkish delight and the biggest bottle of Heinz low-calorie mayonnaise Denali had ever seen in her life (very random, Denali thought to herself. But also very Rosé). “You’re a Rollerskate Rag, right?”

Denali dropped the notebook and watched it slide all the way down to the bottom of the bagging area.

Rosé McCorkell knew who she was.

“Yeah, I, erm, tried out for a proper part but don’t think my acting’s quite there yet.”

“Oh, baby, don’t say that. I’ve seen you skating and you’re there for a reason. I reckon I could use some lessons from you before opening night if I’m being honest.”

Rosé McCorkell had noticed her.

Rosé McCorkell wanted roller-skating lessons from her.

Rosé McCorkell called her baby?

“I dunno, I'm pretty sure the whole point is that you’re meant to be bad. So long as you don’t fall off stage and flatten a member of the audience, I think you’ve done your job.”

It was then that Denali realised it wouldn’t make the tiniest of differences to her situation if her eyes were ripped out [after all]

Because she’d made Rosé laugh, a big hearty laugh that sounded like it came from a middle-aged man yet fell out of her lips so naturally. Of course, she’d miss the smile that came along with it, the chip in Rosé’s front tooth she’d never been able to spot in the studio or on her Instagram posts, a sneaky glimpse at the perfectionist’s imperfection that only lived for Denali there at that moment, something suddenly quite special about the bright white lights of the store and the royalty-free Christmas covers that played around them. But she could do that, survive without her sight so long as she could still hear Rosé’s stupid husky laugh (she knew this was quite a dramatic statement to be making, even if only in her head, but Denali figured anything that made the Glee version of Last Christmas feel like the pinnacle of romance ought to be powerful enough to allow for altering of the senses).

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure there's a few empty spaces in that front row just in case then. A big sign telling everyone to mind their heads for falling theatre kids.”

Rosé began popping her things into her tote, immediately making Denali regret how efficient she was at finding barcodes. In fact, watching Rosé packing ready to leave suddenly made the months she and Mik had spent competing to see who could scan quicker after watching the staff at Lidl absolutely outdo the pair of them feel like the dumbest waste of time in the history of retail jobs.

And she’d once spent an entire three afternoons trying to properly distribute the fluff in every cushion.

“Here.” Denali stopped her just as she went to say bye, rummaging through her drawer for one of the gift cards she was supposed to be saving for the post-Christmas sales. “Take one of these for the next time you need a giant bottle of mayonnaise. It only activates on Boxing Day though so you’ll have to make sure that one lasts you ‘til then.”

“Thanks, baby.” Rosé took the gift card from her hand, catching Denali’s eye for a second or two too long before turning to leave. “I’ll see you around.”

Denali waited until she was fully out of the shop to let out a breath, smiling to herself like an idiot for the entire rest of her shift, unaware of who or what was even around her because the only thing her eyes could see was Rosé.

***

“Look I’m really sorry I’ve forgotten my purse but I do want to come back tomorrow to buy this and it's the last one, is there any chance you could keep it in the back for me to make sure no one takes it? It’s like super important.”

Scarlet knew what she was going to buy for Yvie the second she pulled the name out of the hat.

She’d known before she picked her name too, having run through ideas for what she’d get each member of staff depending on whether or not she was their Secret Santa: a magic eight ball for Priyanka or perhaps some old Spice Girls merch, a nice pair of dangly earrings for Jaida and the biggest bottle of jager she could find if she picked Heidi, provided, of course, that she only consumed it when she didn’t have a shift the next day (Scarlet did not fancy a repeat of the “why is there brown rice in the sink?” saga from Halloween).

The possibilities were endless.

Yet still, only one thing had come to mind when she thought about what to buy her closest friend and worst enemy at the Centre (well, two things, but she figured she couldn’t buy a new soul at the retail park down the road and didn’t really fancy driving out of town to find one).

The fucking nutcracker.

Or as Yvie had kindly referred to it on the previous week's shopping trip, “Satan in wood form.”

“I think it’s quite cute.” Scarlet looked at the nutcracker then back at Yvie.

“I’m sorry, you what?” Yvie spoke with the passion of great poets. Tennyson’s charge and Dunbar’s tragedy and Angelou’s ocean all there in her pure hatred for the trinket. She was crazy as fuck sometimes but that’s what Scarlet had grown to really like about hanging out with her; Yvie threw her entire being into their points of contention like she was fighting for her life and Scarlet wanted nothing more than to take its weight.

And poking just that little bit of it back.

“I said I think it’s cute. Me and Lemon watch Barbie in the Nutcracker like every week - it's just like the one from that, see, Yves?”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you, at the ripe age of eighteen, just admitted to watching Barbie in the Nutcracker every week with your sister because you clearly have something wrong with your level of taste if you think this piece of tat is anything near cute. I honestly think they should fire whoever even designed this. And you want to put it in the Centre?” Her eyebrows danced up and down as she spoke and Scarlet fought every bone in her lower face not to crack a smile. “Oh, hey guys, you know that fifty quid we had to spend on Christmas decorations. Well, we didn’t actually get anything to put on the counters. Or any lights to wrap around the trampoline railings. Didn’t get any fake snow either, sorry - Scarlet spent the majority of it on a crystalised nutcracker we found in the “Last Chance to Buy Bin” at the Range because apparently children aren’t getting enough nightmares from her safety talks and we thought we really ought to do something to change that this festive period.”

Scarlet put her hands over the nutcracker’s head and gasped, covering its eyes and non-existent ears from Yvie’s heinous words.

“Well, I think it’d be money well spent.”

“And that’s exactly why they made you bring me with you to do this.”

No one had made her, of course. Just like no one made her drive Yvie home after every shift, taking the long way around the river cause Yvie said the bridge by hers can get really icy this time of year, stopping for a bag of chips and batter if either of their stomachs made a noise or a hot chocolate if Scarlet so much as heard Yvie shiver.

But it was easier that way.

To pretend their time together was happenchance.

That they were forced to spend so much time side by side that they had started to breathe in the same beat.

“I have incredible taste and you know it.” Scarlet reluctantly put the nutcracker back into the bin, tapping a goodbye on its chest and pulling a pout towards Yvie.

“Barbie in the Nutcracker?”

“Every week was an exaggeration, it’s more of a monthly thing if I’m honest with you. We only watch the Twelve Dancing Princesses every week.”

“It’s that fact I know you’re not even joking.” Yvie shook her head, flipping the nutcracker around on its front before shuddering and making her way down the next aisle, Scarlet following her footsteps like they were the only ones visible in a big field of snow.

Of course, the girl looked at her like she was crazy when she brought it over, probably wondering why she would buy it in the first place, never mind why she wanted to have it stored in the back for her like an expensive piece of jewellery at auction.

“If not, I can come back tonight. I just don’t think I can make it in time.”

A half-lie, really. The shop didn’t close for another few hours so Scarlet had plenty of time to drive to Plastique’s, grab her purse and come back to claim her perfect gift. Only the Centre closed in thirty minutes, which meant someone else would be waiting at the bus stop in thirty-five if Scarlet didn’t turn up for “last-minute rush” cover that she’d pretend her dad sent her for and wouldn’t even bother to write on her timesheet.

“I’ll put it in the back for you.” The girl took the nutcracker with care, smiling at Scarlet in that painstakingly familiar way that said ‘customer service at Christmas is just the best place to be in the world and I understand now why Santa’s elves are so happy only ever seeing each other.’

“Thank you so much, you’re honestly an angel.”

Scarlet walked out of the store with her feet slightly above the ground, knowing that, despite not faring so well in the overall war, Team Scarlet was about to change the course of history with her triumph in the Battle of the Nutcracker.

And she’d get to see Yvie’s face live and in colour in just one week as it happened.

***

When Mik had texted Denali at ten-thirty saying ‘girl this place is hell today just warning you. i would be faking some sort of illness before you start if i were you xxx’ (shortly followed by a second message telling her to ignore that and not to fake an illness or else he’d be the only sane member of staff there and wanted someone to get a Maccy’s with at the end of their shifts), she hadn’t really started with a whole load of optimism, pretty much knowing things were going to go wrong from the get-go.

Which they did, of course. But none of it really bothered her until the afternoon. A man let his dog piss in the DIY aisle? She was too busy helping an old lady carry her bags to the car in the name of excellent customer service so Kandy would have to do it instead. The fire alarm went off after Tina from HR burnt her toast in the staff room? All Denali could see was an extra half an hour added to her lunch break.

Actually, she was having a pretty good day until it happened.

Because even the promise of a post-work McDonald’s didn’t make an interaction with a Karen any more worth it.

She’d been quite lucky on the Karen front, hadn’t had any in a while actually - though she did speak to a girl a tad younger than her the night before who she could see being a bit of future Karen, not the crazy ‘I want to speak to the manager and get you fired’ type but certainly the ‘I might just nip behind the till and grab my own drink if no one is here to get it for me’ type. This Karen though? This one was beyond both. She was ready to reach into the till with her French manicured tips and grab Denali’s wages herself.

“Look, it says it right there on the back, these gift cards are only valid from the 26th December to the 31st January. Someone has just given it to you early so you can come in and spend it as soon as the deal starts. They will have explained that to you.” She pointed to the fine print on the back, knowing fine well Mik would be paying for her fucking McChicken for giving out so many of the stupid gift cards that week.

“Exactly, it’s not even January yet so it must be valid.” The woman exclaimed like this was a game of poker and she’d just played her ace. When Denali, and every single other person on the planet with an ounce of common sense (besides maybe her manager), would be able to see it was only a two.

“Yes, but it’s not December 26th yet either.” Denali pointed to the back of the card, trying her best to come off as patient when she wanted to turn into Tiffany Pollard’s mom and ask her what, in God’s name, was not clicking.

“So how do you expect me to pay for all this stuff, I mean, I’ve spent my personal time picking all this out?”

And I’ve spent mine scanning it, Denali replied in her head, a set of fully gritted teeth hidden behind her lippy smile.

“Look I can pop it all back for you if you want or you can get it now, it’s just you can’t use that gift card on anything until after Christmas.”

Denali had already explained this, the woman telling her that she needed this stuff before Christmas and it would be useless after but she had no other path to go down at that point, ready for the conversation to take up the entire rest of her shift and perhaps even overtime.

Heck, the way this woman was going the 24-hour McDonald's would have found a way to close by the time Denali got away.

“My daughter gave me this, you know. I’m gonna go outside and call her so she can come down here and sort this out.”

“If you must.” With that the woman scuttled away, practically attacking the air with her Radley as she did, leaving Denali to temporarily close her till with all the crap on it and move everyone waiting over to Mik’s.

Perhaps she wouldn’t get that free McChicken after all.

“I’m sorry.” She went over to help at Mik’s counter, eyeing the door cautiously for the woman’s return.

“It’s not your fault gorge. Honestly, can’t wait for all these boomers to die out so we can just live life in harmony.”

Denali looked up at the guy packing his bag and tried her best not to laugh: “He’s kidding.”

He wasn’t.

“I think she’ll stay here until Boxing Day at this rate, you’ll have to make yourself a Christmas dinner from all the frozen stuff and eat it while she stares you down.”

“No way would I miss my Mama’s cooking for that piece of-” Denali stopped herself before swearing in front of the customer, the sight of Kandy coming over bringing flashbacks to the customer service meetings of Christmas past that she didn’t fancy repeating (not that ‘I can’t wait for all these boomers to die’ wasn’t already enough to land them in one).

“Hey girls, do either of you know if we have any nutcrackers? Some ugly ass rhinestoned thing we had in earlier?”

Denali immediately regretted calling the girl from the night before a future Karen; she had manners and a smile and Denali would do anything to go back and serve her instead of Mrs I Don’t Know How to Work a Calendar.

“It’s in the stock room next to the party decorations,” Denali shouted over, about to tell Kandy she’d run and get it until she heard the automatic doors sliding open and knew she wouldn’t have a chance.

“Wish me luck,” she mumbled before making her way back to her own till, mentally preparing herself for the return of the Karen as she took a slow stroll back.

Making it all the more surprising when she looked up to see Rosé there instead.

Oh.

Her fake smile turned real at the sight of her friend (if you could call someone you’d been in a drama group with for half a year and flirted with once at work a friend, Denali didn’t really know the right word for that one)

“Hey.” She felt herself turn red for no apparent reason as she took her seat again, too scared to make eye contact with the other girl just yet (crush. The word was crush).

“Hi,” Rosé spoke quietly, but not in the sexy whispering way she had when she’d asked Denali to teach her to skate. It was…a wince almost?

Denali looked up to see her face properly.

Oh.

“Did my stepmother come in here and shout at you about the gift card you gave me?” She spoke straight to the point, taking Denali off-guard.

“Potentially.” Denali scrunched her face up with second-hand embarrassment, her life was now an episode of a sitcom. And not just any old episode, no, this one was the type that got mentioned in Buzzfeed articles listing the cringiest moments on the small screen.

She had to go tell Mik to shut the fuck up about killing off boomers immediately! Any one of those could be the Grandad of the hot guy they always see at the Caribbean place on a Friday night. You never knew just who could be related to your crushes these days (Denali probably should have known).

“Look I’m really, really sorry. I did tell her she couldn’t use it until Boxing Day but she obviously doesn’t care, I didn’t think she’d come in here and talk to you like shit.”

“It’s fine honestly.” Denali tried to brush her off, knowing fine well that Rosé would be able to see through her terrible acting (if only there was a way to lie through the power of roller skating, she’d have been sorted).

“So, she did speak to you like shit then?” Rosé started shaking her head and Denali immediately began to understand why girls in teen dramas liked it when boys punched each other for them.

Protective Rosé was somehow even hotter than normal Rosé.

Not that she’d have ever described anything about Rosé as normal.

“I mean she did ask me what type of training I’d had when I got hired here. And if it was normal for them to hire people of ‘my mental calibre’”.

“I am so fucking sorry.” Rosé grabbed a pen and paper from her bag and began to scribble. “I’m giving you my number so you can call me if she ever comes in here and tries to terrorize you again, I’m so embarrassed.”

“It’s fine honestly. It’s taken some time out of my day at least.” Denali pointed to the clock on the wall.

“You finished soon?” Rosé raised a brow.

“I will be once I put all this shit back.” Denali let out a laugh at the conveyor full of trinkets.

“You got plans?”

‘Yes, I’m going to McDonald’s with Mik. In fact, it’s all I’ve thought about since I got here today.’ Is what Denali should have said.

Instead, she shook her head.

She’d buy Mik a McFlurry tomorrow.

“Good cause I’m taking you out to say sorry for this. She’ll fucking hate it.”

“You always take out girls just piss off your step-mam?” Denali asked, wondering where on earth Rosé and her mayonnaise-loving palette would be planning on taking her exactly (as if she wouldn’t have eaten a literal school dinner if it was going to be with Rosé).

“Don’t get it twisted, baby. I’m asking you out because you’re hot and you’re one of the only people in this town I’ve managed to find with a half-decent sense of humour. Pissing her off is just a bonus.”

Denali was too stunned to speak.

“Shoot me down if you want.” Rosé held up both her hands. “But if you’re up for it I can come pick you up later?”

“Yes,” Denali choked out. Clearly, she’d spent far too long worrying about what would happen if Rosé McCorkell came into her work and tore her eyes out that the thought of losing her tongue never even occurred to her. “I’ll text you.”

“Perfect.” Rosé sang the word before leaving the shop, Denali practically dancing as she started putting all the items in a basket ready to put back where they belonged.

Because she had a date with Rosé.

Terrifying Rosé who she’d fancied from the moment she saw her.

She had a date with unreal Rosé and all she had to do to get it was be abused by a customer. Like that didn’t happen every other day anyway?.

She’d just been paid to be asked on a date by the Rosé and couldn’t even think of a more perfect gift to ask for that Christmas.

Absolutely nothing could kill her stride right then.

“Excuse me.” A familiar voice stopped her manic basket packing-dance session. “Sorry to disturb you but I was in here yesterday and you put aside a nutcracker for me, I forgot my purse but I’m back now. Purse at the ready!”

“Yeah, I gave it to my colleague to give to you, like twenty minutes ago?” Denali smiled at the girl and continued to grab the things from the conveyor.

“Oh no, I’ve just gotten here,” the girl replied. “I came straight to you.”

Fuck.

Denali made a silent prayer to God they’d at least wait 'til the new year for her customer service meeting this time before turning back to the girl.

***

“I cannot believe you ate those nachos. They were the literal one thing I had going for me with this present.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Lemon propped her feet onto Scarlet’s dashboard and started stretching. “You can’t just leave a bag of nachos with an array of dips lying around and expect me not to tuck in.”

“They were in a gift-wrapped bag in my wardrobe! How on earth is that lying around?”

Scarlet waited until she hit the next red light and yanked her sister’s feet down, the temptation to chuck her out of the car there and make her walk the rest of the way to dance class burning through her body like the half-eaten tub of Hot Salsa she’d found on her floor upon returning home that day.

“You can buy some more, surely?”

Lemon was right of course, unaware that Scarlet had already been planning to get them from the shop and make her late on purpose as a form of retribution, but it didn’t make her any less annoyed.

She didn’t want to buy Yvie anything she could have just grabbed from the shop on the way, she wanted to get her something that meant something. Something that told her something.

Well, something that told her something other than ‘I remembered you like nachos’.

Even if there was an extremely high chance she’d have thrown that something in the bin as soon as she’d gotten home.

“Right, I’m pulling up next to the Co-op. You can run in and get me exactly what you ate.” Scarlet made a swift turn and ignored the beeping sounds that came from behind her.

You’d have thought the amount of time she’d spent ferrying people around would have made her a better driver but she could have sworn it made her worse; she was always either too annoyed at Lemon to focus on the road or too busy singing along to the car radio with her to remember she was even in charge of a vehicle. And, well, Yvie was Yvie.

Scarlet seemed to forget how to do even the most basic of things trying to impress Yvie, somehow always making the other girl dislike her more in the process.

“Can I have your card?”

“You’re joking, aren’t you?” Scarlet turned to her sister and gasped as though she’d just been slapped across the face with her own fluffy slider (an apt comparison considering this was something Lemon had actually done to her on multiple occasions). “You can get me a Coke Zero too. And a Fanta for Yvie.”

It didn’t take long for Lemon to return, chucking the stuff for Yvie in the back of the car then hopping back in next to Scarlet.

“I thought this girl was mean to you anyway, why are you so bothered about getting her a good present?”

“Because I picked her name out. I’m obviously gonna want to get her a good present, I’d be embarrassed if I didn’t.” Scarlet lied. “And besides it's only nachos, it’s not like it’s anything crazy.”

“I’m pretty sure I also saw a CD and a pair of earrings and a card in there too…” Lemon’s eyes gazed down at the bottle of Coke.

Every day that girl was becoming more and more like Scarlet and every day she feared it.

“You can have a sip. One sip and that’s all. I won’t be having Dad saying I fill you with crap before dancing again.”

Lemon opened the bottle and changed the subject, chatting about her latest school drama the rest of the way instead. Like Scarlet, she had a knack for pressing things that other people wanted to drop.

The only thing different was that this was Scarlet’s car and she bore no risk of being thrown out of it.

In fact, she struggled to get out once she made it to the Centre, sitting at the wheel for about five minutes before plucking up the courage to grab her gift and go in.

At least she didn’t have to worry about who had chosen her, having overheard the other girls chatting on the walkie talkies a few weeks ago and working out pretty quickly that Jaida had picked her name.

She just wished that whatever Jaida had bought her wouldn’t be ten times better than what she had for Yvie.

“Hey!” Heidi pulled her into a hug once she sat down with everyone. “You want a drink? Pri’s got a bottle of voddy with her, wants to be a bit tipsy once we give out the presents, yano?”

By the sounds of it, Heidi already was, but Scarlet wasn’t one to pass judgement.

“Don’t tell her that!” Priyanka smacked her friend on the arm before turning back to Scarlet. “Sorry Scarlet, I just don’t really want your Dad to think I just bring bottles of vodka to work on the daily even if this is meant to be a party. You can have some if you want though?”

“It’s fine, I won’t say anything. Also, I’m driving so I can’t anyway.”

“Not even one?” Jaida asked. “You’ll be fine after one.”

“Yeah, you can have one!” Heidi chorused.

“Honestly, I’m fine.”

Scarlet knew she’d be fine but felt sick at the thought of it touching her insides, her tummy already turning thanks to the whole Secret Santa thing. She tried to think of what her friends would have said, told her she was being dramatic and that it didn’t matter if it wasn’t the perfect gift because Yvie would be stupid if she didn’t like it anyways.

They’d probably also call her fucking insane for being so upset about losing out on a gift she knew Yvie hated. That it was definitely a much more normal thing to give someone a gift you had some idea they’d like.

But she and Yvie weren’t normal friends.

“Mate, she struggles to drive when she’s sober, you don’t want her getting in the car after a glass of that shit.”

Scarlet hadn’t even noticed Yvie was behind her until she’d said it, watching as the other girl greeted the rest of their friends before turning to Scarlet and giving her a nod.

If anyone else had said it she’d be upset with them, pull them aside and tell them off for making such a rude comment about her but things were different with Yvie, she spoke a secret language Scarlet hadn’t heard from anyone else before; words exchanged in the back of the cafe next to the panini machines, over the centre console of her car, the coffee shop next to Scarlet’s old school and the spot by the river they’d walked to when they shared a lunch break and decided they deserved some fresh air.

Either that or Scarlet was crazy.

That or Yvie was just being rude about her driving.

Maybe Yvie didn’t say it just so that the girls wouldn’t pressure Scarlet to drink when she didn’t want to.

Maybe she was just ungrateful for all the lifts.

But Scarlet wasn’t crazy and she wasn’t dumb.

Yeah, she was a bit ditzy and got scared by loud noises and the dark and serial killer those documentaries Naomi was always putting on. But she wasn’t dumb.

She could see the way Yvie looked at her even when she did leave her glasses in the glove compartment of her car.

Something in her eyes would sing a harmony just a touch higher than the main chords of her words, the type you can’t hear properly until you pull the song apart bit by bit, quiet and subtle but still there. And Scarlet didn’t need to pull it apart just yet. Not when she could hear the melodies just fine on her own.

She’d be happy so long as it just kept playing.

“You excited to give your present?” Yvie gestured to the bag in Scarlet’s hand, letting the rest of the group get lost in pouring their drinks.

“A little,” Scarlet replied, wondering if Yvie had managed to figure out she’d picked her name out in the end.

“Yeah, well I was wondering if you could take a look at mine, actually?”

“I thought you said there was something deeply wrong with my taste level.”

“Oh, there is.” Yvie laughed as she guided her into the cafe, stopping at the front counter. “There's just also something deeply wrong with the taste level of the person I have for Secret Santa, so I figured you’d be a good person to ask.”

“Don’t be so mean about Heidi!”

“I don’t have Heidi.” Yvie motioned to the fridge at the bottom of the counter, the one they would shove the milk jugs in when they were still in the middle of using them and couldn’t be bothered to wash them out just yet (well, Scarlet did this, she wasn’t exactly sure anyone else did too).

Only there wasn’t any milk in there when she bent down to open it.

Just the most perfect gift she could have given.

One so good she’d even have given it herself.

“I didn’t know if you’d even remember but you were really enthralled by that thing when we were in the Range the other week. And I just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone cause I thought they’d think I was a fucking lunatic for buying you something so weird and terrifying so I thought I’d just do it now. Plus, I kept feeling like it was staring at me which is why I had to shut it in the fridge, it’s been here for like three days. I mean, even the girl in the shop looked at me like I was insane when she sold it to me. I had to ask them to get that thing from the back too. I’ve got the receipt if you don’t like it though, you could swap it for some of those candles they’ve got, the orangey ones? I know you like them.”

“No, I do.” Scarlet stood up straight and turned to face Yvie again, pulling the nutcracker close to her chest. “I really, really like it.”

“Yeah?”

“No, yeah, I do. Thanks, Yves. I really do, I love it.”