If you read the title and thought I was speaking of all the holiday rubbish that no one needs or ever asked for being sold by department stores and online, I’d say that is a pretty good guess. However, it’s incorrect. The holiday crud I’m referring to is bodily sickness.

Several years ago, I began to recognize a pattern in myself of becoming sick on Christmas Day or shortly after that. Initially, I thought it might have been some psychosomatic way to avoid those family members I didn’t wish to interact with. While this was a convenient offshoot, it wasn’t the reason it manifested.

After brief introspection and evaluation of circumstances, I quickly realized my very real illness was a byproduct of stress. Mentally, I would compile anxiety regarding creating a wonderful Christmas experience for everyone. This included everything from preparing holiday snacks to cooking to cleaning and preparing my home for visitors to decorating (interior and exterior) to purchasing the perfect gift. I had addresses to collect for all the Christmas cards to mail, outfits to assemble for events, and hair and nail appointments to look my best on the big day. In truth, I didn’t give two wooden nickels about the majority of these things. I only cared because others told me I should—others expected it of me. Left alone, I would have made it a PJ and given heartfelt, sappy homemade gifts as seen on Hallmark holiday movies. However, that wasn’t the kind of environment I was raised in. Sadly, much emphasis was placed on material items and public/social appearances. Thus, I would do my best to meet these expectations.

Begin Phase Two.

To accomplish these numerous tasks, I would run myself ragged and jump through a football field of burning hoops. Store after store, I would walk until I felt my arches falling. My eyeballs would bulge and water from scanning the internet. My head would ache from gift wrapping. (How many times can a roll of tape be lost in one sitting? And why is it so difficult to find the correct size box?) My muscles screamed at me from scrubbing. None of these things I found fun or rewarding. And by the time Christmas arrived, all I felt was tired and relieved. This is when I both mentally and physically would crash. My body responded the only way it knew, and that usually was with some type of respiratory illness.

Some family members would accuse me of faking sick by drumming it up all in my mind. “Oh, she’s not really ill. She’s just being lazy,” some would whisper. I didn’t know laziness came with fevers and congestion and lasted a week. Apparently, my wallet didn’t know it, either, when I had to pay for after-hours clinic care. And also, I apparently was good at tricking medical staff into hearing congestion in my chest and giving me diagnoses (e.g., pharyngitis, strep throat, and the flu). Then, one year, a physician informed me that my immune system was pretty crappy, and he suspected that when stressed, I would weaken it so much that it could not fight off infection. As a result, I was catching anything airborne that blew in my direction. He suggested that I should do less over the holidays and allow myself more time to rest.

Of course, I didn’t listen, at first, until one year I became especially ill. Actually, it wasn’t the illness that did me in. It was the nonproductive cough that lingered for weeks after. It was so deep that I felt I had swallowed a box of matches with each breath. I literally walked around clutching my chest like Fred G. Sanford. During the day it was bad, but at night, it became unbearable. Well, I learned my lesson.

The following year, I decided to take heed and began holiday preparations early. Instead of sorting through Christmas cards and trying to best match the design and card to each person, I purchased a box of assorted designs from the dollar store and randomly added the names. I cut the amount of Christmas treats I made in half, only decorated the interior, and put a time limit on the time I spent gift shopping. I still ended up getting sick that year but not nearly as severe as previous years.

I thought I was alone in this until recently when I was having lunch with a group of friends and the topic came up. Being who I am, after the discussion, I began researching, and this phenomenon isn’t uncommon.

1. Exposure to large crowds while shopping and traveling. Viruses and bacteria can loom anywhere. However, the body is amazing. When we are exposed to some conditions long enough, we build up a tolerance or immunity to it. But when we travel or in large crowds, we are subjected new viruses and bacteria. Thus, the probability of contracting an airborne illness or a germ from an infected surface increases. If avoiding crowds isn’t something that you can or want to do, you may want to avoid people who are visibly sick or touch surfaces that are known to have not been cleaned.
2. Forgetting to wash hands. How many surfaces do we touch when in public (e.g., opening doors, removing items from shelves, handshaking, etc.)? This act can transfer germs from a surface onto our hands. Then, without thinking, we may touch our mouth, eyes, or nose—increasing the probability of making us sick. Now, let’s be clear. Will failing to wash one’s hands after touching a public surface always result in illness? No. In fact, I don’t know scientific odds for that. But can it happen? Yes. Does it sometimes happen? Yes. Does handwashing help prevent it? Yes.
3. A frequent change in temperature. When researching, the information found listed this as going from inside to outside. However, I’m going to take this a step further and go out on a limb to include something that isn’t research-based. I live in the deep south, and anyone in this area can tell you it’s like a Heidi Klum Project Runway intro: One day you’re in a sauna. The next day you’re out on a witch’s boobie. Mother Nature is a bipolar roller coaster. It has literally snowed on day, and the next shot up into the 80s. Mostly, it is warm, but when the temps get to bouncing, noses get to running. There’s not much one can do about Mother Nature’s fluctuation but dressing appropriately to maintain a constant body temp from one setting to the next helps.
4. Lack of sleep. This one is easy. Being well rested can help stave off illness.
5. Reduce stress. Give yourself the grace to not have to do it all during the holidays. When possible, delegate tasks to people you trust and know will get the job done. Simplify tasks (e.g., purchasing prewrapped gifts, doing meal prep in advance, reducing number of purchases, etc.). Every little bit helps.

Read the rest of this entry »

‘Tis the season and all!

It’s just 11 days until Christmas, so I thought I’d give you an early gift. This 12,000-word novelette is yours. All you have to do is follow the link. Enjoy!

Newly widowed Merry Winslow treks west to claim an unexpected inheritance. Upon arriving, she discovers she inherited a brothel! Rather than being dismayed, Merry’s intrigued, thinking it the perfect way to shed the shackles of propriety that have subdued her wild and impulsive nature. Only problem is, she needs to learn to manage her new business.

Nathan Boone is amused by Merry’s determination and knows the perfect way to begin her instruction. When he opens the peephole for Merry to peer inside as one of the brothel’s “soiled doves” pleasures a customer, he reveals the passion hidden beneath Merry’s “widow’s weeds”.

Get your FREE copy now!

Dear Reader, I am so excited! I finally managed to get the manuscript up for Six Geese Laid! Thank you so much to Delilah for welcoming me back to share it with you.

This was a fun one for Rachel Wilder and I to do. It was originally written for the WROTE podcast and performed by Vance Bastien. He did such an amazing job with it! Hearing our words spoken out loud was a new experience for us.

The story came about because our friend, J. Scott Coatsworth, asked me if I’d like to contribute something for the podcast, and I thought, hey, that sounds fun! So we wrote it really fast during Thanksgiving week while we were at a family reunion.

The thing about writing fast is that it allows you to avoid the inner critic. There is power in drafting, which one learns when doing things like National Novel Writing Month (https://nanowrimo.org/). If I stop to wonder, “Is this spelled right?” “Is this the right way to say this?” “Would this really happen?” I lose the magic of the story. If I listen to the narrative I see in my head, and stay curious, then I can navigate from one piece to the next. “And then what happens?” “What would he say?” “How does that look?” I’ve heard it described as driving at night: you can’t see the whole journey, but you can see what’s in your headlights, and you can get from one end of a state to the other that way.

The other thing I enjoyed about writing this is that it’s a humorous story. It’s based in our Chicagoland Shifters world, and while there are times where things are funny, that series is urban fantasy – so, dark, angsty, and sexy. This story is a different vibe, and that was fun to experiment with going in. Short stories are always a challenge for novelists, because they need to be a full story: that means, a beginning, a middle, and an end or resolution. I find that difficult to do in a short format.

You’ll have to judge for yourself whether we hit the mark or not. But whether you decide to read it or not, I want you to know, Dear Reader, from the bottom of my heart: thank you for reading. Us authors work hard to tell stories that entertain and we are ever so fortunate to have readers like you that like to read.

Buy links (if you see your favorite retailer isn’t listed here, please drop me a note in the comments).

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3uHRcH2
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/six-geese-laid/id6473762401
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/six-geese-laid-a-catherine-noon/1144449549

*~*~*

“My own experience has taught me this: if you wait for the perfect moment when all is safe and assured it may never arrive.”
~ Maurice Chevalier

acatherinenoon.com | noonandwilder.com | writerzengarden.com | knoontimeknitting.com

I write young adult clean and wholesome romances and love cute movies that give you a cozy feeling. There’s no better way to take the edge off a rough day than escaping into a sweet holiday setting with a feel-good vibe. Some of these have romance and one is laugh out loud funny. Hope you enjoy my picks. Would love to hear your favorites in the comments.

Christmas Flow: If you liked my pop star romance Cecily Taylor Series, you might enjoy this one with a rapper and writer who embark on a fake relationship after a mishap. They’re complete opposites with him getting in trouble for misogynist lyrics and her working for a feminist blog. It’s a unique take on the opposites attract trope. The lead actress in this was great.

Muppet Christmas Carol: I will forever love this one and watch it every single year. I’m also incapable of saying the word, “mittens,” without singing the line from the movie. Every single song in it is a banger and Rizzo is a national treasure. I like the Dickens story, but this version is the best.

All I Want for Christmas: This one is from the 90s and has Lauren Bacall as the grandmother. Ethan Embry is the lead character who is a kid wishing his divorced parents would get back together. If you love Christmas movies set in the city, then you’ll love this one. It’s set in New York City and has a magical feel.

Christmas in the Wild: Kristen Davis is amazing in this sweet romance about a divorced woman going to Africa on what should have been a trip with her husband only to rediscover herself and her love for animals. Davis does a great job of making you root for her happiness and want to adopt an elephant. Seriously, I was afraid of elephants before this movie and now I’d lay down my life for a baby elephant.

A Castle for Christmas: Brooke Shields is a well-known author who winds up in Scotland after a meltdown during a TV interview. She finds a castle her grandfather used to work in and wants to buy it and there’s a cute enemies- to- lovers trope with the castle owner. This one is worth watching for the cute inn she stays in and overall cozy feel. This one appeals to the romance writer in me. It’s the perfect movie to watch with a hot chocolate and blankie.

A Heavenly Christmas: Kristin Davis again, but this time she’s in limbo (literally) after an accident and she has to work with an angel to bring happiness to a man who is raising his niece after his sister dies. You just want these two to get together so badly and living happily ever after.

Here’s a Christmas party scene from my young adult novel, Cecily in the City, where my main character, Cecily, goes to her pop star boyfriend’s wealthy family’s Christmas party where she feels like a fish out of water and encounters his exes. Cecily in the City won the 2023 Readers’ Favorite Gold Medal Award for Young Adult Romance:

On the day of the party, I was a nervous wreck. I went downstairs and asked my parents if they’d let me take the car to the party.

“I’ll drive you. Partly because I’m nosy and want to see their house up close.” Dad rubbed his hands together.

We headed over to Andrew’s parents’ house. My dad drove me up the circular driveway and I gasped. Andrew’s parents hadn’t just decorated a few trees in the yard—every single evergreen on their lot was lit up and there was a display of cartoon carolers that looked to be six feet tall standing in front of the house.

“Wow, no inflatable snowmen for these guys.” Dad peered out the window. “Cecily, look! Santa is answering the candy door.”

“They have a doorman?”

“No, I mean over in the life-sized gingerbread house. There’s an actual guy over there opening a candy door. It looked like he’s serving hot chocolate. Should I get a to-go cup?” he asked squinting.

“Please don’t. I’m already afraid that security guard over there will ask if I’m lost.”

Dad laughed and told me to call him when I needed a ride home. “And see if they provide doggie bags with tiny quiches and those weird pointy toast things,” he said as I got out of the car.

I took a deep breath as I walked up to the door and said a prayer before ringing the doorbell. A woman answered the door and offered to take my coat. I handed it to her and immediately wanted to grab it back to cover myself because all the women were dressed identically. They all had long turtleneck sweaters that were made of some material way fancier than mine. Meanwhile I was standing there in a V-neck I bought on the clearance rack and that was after I borrowed cash from my mom. And forget regular pants—there were all in velvet or something with tall boots that looked like something out of a horse-riding movie. Oh crap. They all shopped at the same place. My dad’s car payment wasn’t as much as those boots. Actually, our house payment wasn’t either. How did some people have that kind of money to spend on boots?

“Cecily, love, you’re here,” his grandmother said coming over in a wave of perfume. “Now our party is complete. And you brought a gift for the kids. How thoughtful.”

She took the package from me and I explained it was an art set that would be good for a kid between eight to ten.

“It is so important to support the arts,” she said as she placed the box under the world’s biggest Christmas tree. I followed her into the main room expecting to see another big eight-foot tree. Nope, it was even bigger and it was aqua. Where did they even find an aqua colored tree? I was overwhelmed by the expensive leather couches and larger mahogany armoire placed next to a huge stone fireplace.

“Hey Cecily.” Andrew came up and hugged me. “Sorry I didn’t see you come in. One of the little kids spilled their milk and was crying, so I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

So thoughtful. No wonder those girls online attacked me out of jealousy in comments section for being his soulmate in his video. Well, that and the fact he looked like a cologne ad model.

“I feel a bit underdressed,” I said smoothing my hair back.

“Why? You’re wearing the same thing as everyone else,” he said.

Yes, except my outfit was the bargain-basement version. Sort of like how magazines did those stories where they showed two similar outfits and had you guess which one cost twenty-five dollars, and which cost two-thousand dollars and it was always obvious which was which.

“I just feel a bit…out of place.”

“You look amazing as always,” he said and from the way he was smiling at me, I almost believed it. His mother walked over and he introduced me.

“Cecily, what would you like to drink?” she asked. “We have hot chocolate, spiced cider, and—what on earth is she wearing?”

I jumped, but then realized she was staring at someone walking in. Following her gaze, I saw Jeff’s girlfriend, Isla King, walk in wearing a short white leather miniskirt with a tight sparkly red off the shoulder sweater and a Santa hat. She had matching white leather high heeled boots on and you could see the butterfly tattoo on her stomach.

Mrs. Holiday gave a tight smile and smoothed her hair with her hands. “Forgive me, I’m not used to the way you kids dress today.”

“Andrew, be a love and make sure she doesn’t end up in the center when we take a group photo,” she said. She looked over at me. “Was I offering you punch or something? The last few minutes have been a blur.”

I giggled. “I’d love a hot chocolate.”

“There’s my future granddaughter-in-law,” Rev. Holiday said in his booming voice as he walked over to me with Andrew’s father.

Mr. Holiday shook my hand. “Nice to meet you. So happy you could join us, Cecily. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

The way he focused on me when he said it made me feel like he meant it.

“And now you get to meet the girl he’s always talking about,” his grandpa said.

“Grandpa, you’re embarrassing her,” Andrew said.

“Well, Andy, I want to get this locked down because think of how adorable she’d look on the family Christmas card.” Rev. Holiday laughed. “Cecily, we all wear matching sweaters on it each year, and you’d fit right into the family photo.”

“Oh, am I included in that?” Isla asked coming over with her sister, Danielle, who was always trying to Andrew’s attention.

Mr. Holiday’s smile dimmed a few watts. “Hello Isla. Merry Christmas.”

“Cecily’s still around? Wow, good thing I didn’t take bets on that. I would have lost big time,” Danielle said quietly to Isla as if I wasn’t there. Isla’s eyes widened and she mouthed, “Sorry,” at me.

His dad got called away and I was starting to feel more relaxed as Andrew led me into the den. There was a girl sitting in the corner with perfect bouncy brown hair and luminous skin.

Andrew whispered that was his ex, Suki, and I felt my adrenaline spike. She smiled as we walked in, but her eyes didn’t reflect it. The worst part was that she was sitting there like she belonged and I was the outsider. Andrew introduced us and she nodded as she gave me the once-over.

“Andrew, didn’t you get Cecily anything to drink?” Suki asked in a way that implied he didn’t care enough to make sure I didn’t dehydrate and die.

“My mom’s getting her something.”

“Always passing the responsibility—as usual,” she said kicking him lightly with her expensive looking high-heeled boot.

I knew the, “as usual,” part was to show she had known him longer than me. Being around someone’s ex is always an uncomfortable situation, but it was extra cringe-y now that I knew how close they had been. Mrs. Holiday came in with my hot chocolate, and I wanted to ask her how she could expect me to stay in the same room as his ex, but of course, I just thanked her and sipped at it while trying not to get whipped cream all over my face.

“What did Andrew get you for Christmas, Cecily?” Suki asked.

Way to get right to it.

“We haven’t exchanged gifts yet, nosy,” he said.

“Just wanted to see if you recycle gift ideas,” she said smirking. “Last year he got me an initial necklace.”

I gave a disinterested nod and pretended my hot chocolate cup was the most fascinating thing in the room.

“With his initial on it,” she said with big smile.

It took everything in me not to toss my hot chocolate on her blue-gray cashmere sweater that perfectly matched her eyes. She probably put that necklace around a tiny Andrew doll at her house with candles around it and a bunch of photos of him tacked to the wall like a creepy stalker.

Find the book here. It’s free in Kindle Unlimited:
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Cecily-City-Taylor-Book-ebook/dp/B0B35LSJRK
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Cecily-City-Taylor-Book-ebook/dp/B0B35LSJRK
Amazon CAN: https://www.amazon.ca/Cecily-City-Taylor-Book-ebook/dp/B0B35LSJRK
Amazon AUS: https://www.amazon.com.au/Cecily-City-Taylor-Book-ebook/dp/B0B35LSJRK

About the Author

Krysten Lindsay Hager is a bestselling author of YA romances that make you laugh, cry, and swoon.

Website: https://www.krystenlindsay.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/krystenlindsay/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/krystenlindsay/
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@krystenlindsay

The winner is…Sillie!
*~*~*

I spent time in Germany when my kids were young, and we adopted some of the local traditions. A couple of my favorites involve the night of December 5th…

Krampusnacht

Krampusnacht (Krampus’s Night) occurs the night before the St. Nicholas Feast on December 6th. He arrives at night, carrying a bundle of twigs to swat misbehaving kids. Krampus comes to scare kids into being good—a kind of twisted Santa’s Little Helper. Our family will probably watch the Krampus movie sometime soon.

Nikolaustag (St. Nicholas Day)

This is what we actually celebrate! On the evening of December 5th, the kids leave their shoes by the door. Santa comes sometime during the night to leave gifts in the shoes. If the child has been good this year, they get something they like. If they’ve been bad, they get a lump of coal. The past couple of years, my daughter has insisted I leave my shoes out because I’m the biggest kid in the house. 🙂

St. Nicholas Day is the official start of the Christmas holiday season, and in some parts of the world, there’s a feast to celebrate St. Nicholas of Myra, a priest who gave to the poor.

So, a question. Were you aware of either of these holiday traditions? Would they be ones you’d want to integrate into your family’s holiday fun? Leave a comment for a chance to win a download of your choice from among my backlist of books!

UPDATE: The winner is…Jennifer Beyer!
*~*~*

I’ve always loved Carolyn Bessette Kennedy’s bold minimalism style since I was a teenager, and I love how it’s become popular on TikTok and YouTube. In fact, there’s even a new book out about her style. Back in the day, Carolyn Bessette Kennedy was talked about in every major fashion magazine. Notice I don’t say, “interviewed,” or even, “on the cover.” That’s because she didn’t do interviews, cover shoots, or editorials. She worked in fashion and was also a fashion muse and inspiration, and what’s great about her style is how timeless yet modern it is, even though the photos are from the nineties.

Carolyn wasn’t plastered all over the media due to her seeking attention, but rather the fact people couldn’t help but to pay attention to her. It was refreshing then and even more so now as you see people hiring companies that generate articles about up-and-coming celebrities just to get them more attention.

I liked Carolyn’s modern, streamlined style, but I also admired how she conducted herself in public even more. There was a mystery to her that has become even more intriguing in the last few years as there’s very little mystery left to celebrities in the modern world. So, it makes sense that she inspired me years ago when I wrote a short story for my creative writing class in college. I wrote a story called “True Grit Need Not Apply,” about a teen girl dating the son of a popular senator and how they were opposites. I imagined a girl named Emme Trybus who had a bit more of a boho streak than Carolyn (although in the scene below I do reference the exact lip color she used to wear because I tracked it down back in the day—haha), but is thrust into a high-profile lifestyle due to who she was dating.

I wondered how Carolyn dealt with that high-profile life that came with photographers, gossip, and constant judgment. I found it fascinating how she was able to navigate through such a chaotic life. However, in my story, I made the couple teens and gave them different issues (trying to figure out what they want to do after high school, finding their path, and they both have grandparents dealing with health issues.)

My professor gave me great feedback and said it had vibes of Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger, which I hadn’t read at the time but was thrilled to hear. After the semester ended, one of my critique group members, David, told me it was his favorite story of mine, and I should develop it into a novel. I began working on it, but it sat for quite some time due to the fact that I ended up working as a freelance journalist while going to grad school, then getting married, moving overseas, etc. When I came back to it years later, I felt like no time had passes as I was instantly drawn back into Emme and Brendon’s world where they’re falling in love despite being from different backgrounds. I titled it, Dating the It Guy. and was fortunate to get a publishing contract for it.

Last year, I rereleased Dating the It Guy with updates and a new epilogue to show you what happened to the two high schoolers after they graduate from college. I guess I wanted to give them the happily ever after I only wish Carolyn and John could have had.

Excerpt from Dating the It Guy

The next day, I woke with this weird feeling my laptop was going to act up. In fact, when I checked my e-mail in the morning, I was kind of surprised it switched on at all. I figured I was just being paranoid about not getting my rough draft done, or maybe it was because the planet Mercury was in retrograde, but I tried to ignore my feelings. We had the day off from class, so I didn’t start working on my paper until later in the evening. I had just started typing when my screen froze. Feeling panicked, I hit Control-Alt-Delete and restarted the laptop, but the screen went blue and started flickering. What was it doing, and why was there a little gray box on my computer telling me I had sixty seconds until it shut down? Fifty-nine…fifty-eight…fifty-seven… This was just like the episode of As My Children Wept where Samson had to stop the bomb hidden in Sierra and Aristotle’s wedding cake. Did it mean the laptop was going to blow? On the show, the cake blew up, and everybody thought Aristotle was dead…well, until he showed up at Sierra’s next wedding, and was Sierra’s new husband mad…probably just as mad as Mrs. Rae would be when I didn’t turn in my assignment.

“Mo-om! My laptop’s possessed. Fix it!”

“Why don’t you just ask me to get out my fairy princess wand and throw pixie dust on it,” she shot back. “I’d have better luck with that.”

Sarcasm was not cute when you were having a crisis. I tried calling Zach, but his mom said he was working late. I was desperate, so I asked his mom if she knew anything about computers.

“There’s a guy at Mary’s Little RAMs who works on mine. I could give you his number, but they closed at five tonight.”

I hung up defeated. I didn’t know anybody who knew a thing about computers. Oh crap. I did know somebody who knew about computers. Brendon. He had mentioned he took a computer class last semester, but could I call him? Usually, I’d have no problem calling a guy for something, but this wasn’t a normal guy. He was what Margaux would call a “Hottie McHotHot.” Okay, what was wrong with me? He was just a regular person like everybody else. He put his pants on one leg at a time and went to the toilet like everybody else…but I bet his bathroom was super clean and everything in it matched. I pictured the whole room done in some manly, rich-person color like “hunter green” or “maroon.” And there would be lots of dark mahogany—

“Emme? Do you want to use my laptop to work on your paper?” Mom yelled up the stairs.

“It won’t help,” I replied. “I saved it on the hard drive because I’m a loser.”

Freaking Mercury retrograde. I should have known better than to expect a computer to work right. I should have backed up my work or e-mailed it to myself, but no, I was too worried about ordering new lip gloss from Lickity Lips. Now I had no paper, no gloss, and probably after I called Brendon begging him for help, no pride. I called and left a message on Brendon’s phone saying I had a computer questions. He was probably out with some amazing prelaw, premed student who donated blood to anemic puppies and did puppet shows for the elderly while knitting booties for—

My phone buzzed, and Brendon’s name popped up on the screen.

Brendon: Hey, what’s up?

I wrote back and explained about my computer, and he started giving me suggestions, which would have been helpful if I had known what he was talking about. It was like he was typing in Aramaic. He offered to come over, and I went to fix my hair the second I put down the phone. Normally I didn’t do much with my hair. It was long and always seemed messy no matter what I did with it. Kylie always said it was tousled like something out of a magazine, and yeah, sometimes I agreed with her and even loved my hair…and other times I feel like strangers on the street were going to walk up and hand me a hairbrush. My hair had been in a ponytail all night, so I couldn’t wear it down because it had a ponytail holder crease. I wound it into a loose bun and put on my ruby lip stain. I was digging through my hamper for my cutest top when the doorbell rang. I threw it on and ran down the stairs.

“Hey, thanks for coming over,” I said as I answered the door. I told him my laptop was upstairs, and I felt weird, like I was trying to lure him into my bedroom or something. He followed me, and I realized I should have made sure my dirty underpants weren’t half hanging out of my hamper when I shut it. Of course, it wasn’t a cute pair, but the big momma pants. Why didn’t I just wear Little Bo Peep pantaloons?

“See, it does this weird countdown thing when I turn it on,” I said. He sat at my desk and started messing with my laptop while I sat on the bed. I wondered if he washed his hands or used some hand sanitizer because I had this strict “clean hands” policy about my keyboard. I mean, I heard on the news those keyboards were playgrounds for bacteria.

“It’s probably because Mercury is in retrograde,” I said. He stared at me as if I had said, “I was sacrificing a goat in here before you came in, please excuse the stains on my ceremonial robe.” I tried to explain. “It’s the planet that rules communication—never mind. Do you think you can fix it?”

“Not sure yet,” he said. “I think I can retrieve your paper though. Do you have someplace else to finish it if I can’t get this computer to work?”

I started to answer when he said he had brought his laptop over for me to use while he worked on my computer. So I could either go downstairs and type on my mother’s boring laptop and leave Mr. Hotness alone in my bedroom, or I could stay here and work on it while we were in my room. Together. Alone. In my room. I loved the planet Mercury.

Find Dating the It Guy here. It’s free in Kindle Unlimited:
https://www.amazon.com/Dating-Guy-Krysten-Lindsay-Hager-ebook/dp/B09Y2RFRM7

About ​Krysten Lindsay Hager

Who knew all those embarrassing, cringe-y moments in middle school and high school could turn into a career? And who would have thought that daydreaming in math class would pay off down the road?

​Krysten Lindsay Hager writes for teens and tweens about friendship, self-esteem, fitting in, frenemies, crushes, fame, first loves, and values. She is the author of Cecily Taylor Series, the Star Series, and the Landry’s True Colors Series.

Website: https://www.krystenlindsay.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/krystenlindsay/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/krystenlindsay/
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@krystenlindsay