Free Once Upon a December: A Holiday Short Story Collection by Sydney Logan Page B

in the air of Nashville International Airport. An angry mob’s already formed at the ticket counter, screaming at the bewildered ticket agents, but it’s obvious to anyone that can read a weather map that no flights will be departing from Nashville anytime soon. The storm that dumped two feet of snow in Kansas is making its way east. Unfortunately, it hit the Volunteer State in the form of ice.
    Ice is bad.
    It’s all turned to snow now, and while that’s not much better, at least there’s some traction there. Neither type of precipitation is conducive to me getting out of this state anytime soon.
    I’m not at all surprised when the ticket agents report that, unless we’d like to stay in a hotel, we might as well find a spot and make ourselves comfortable for the night. As I drop into the nearest seat, I can’t help but laugh. I’m stranded, in the one place in the world I really don’t want to be stranded.
    Merry Christmas to me.
    “You’re two hours away from your family in Paisley Springs. Don't you think you should at least call them?”
    I turn my head toward the voice, and I’m startled to find myself staring into a set of bright green eyes. He’s just a kid, dressed in a red hoodie and jeans and playing some kind of game on his iPad. His hair’s dark, and I can’t help but notice it’s nearly the same shade as mine . . . and just as unruly. I’m about to tell the kid he might as well embrace it, because there isn’t a hair product on the market that will tame it, but then I realize he mentioned my family.
    “Excuse me? What did you say?”
    “Your family. You know . . . your mom and dad? Your sister?”
    “What about them?”
    “They miss you.”
    “And how the hell would you know that?”
    He grimaces, probably because I cursed. I don’t know much about kids, but he looks old enough to have said a few cuss words in his short little life. I bet that video game is just full of them.
    “Because I know.”
    The kid shrugs and turns his attention back to his game.
    Annoyed, and just a little freaked out, I grab my bag and head to the restroom. I quickly splash cold water on my face and try to get my blood pressure under control. Who is this kid? How does he know my family? And how does he know I’m two hours away from home? I close my eyes and try to regulate my breathing, only to have to start the entire process over again when I open them to find the kid sitting on the sink . . . and still staring down at his game.
    “Are you following me now?”
    “You’re very rude.”
    “And you’re a pain in the ass. Why are you bothering me? Where are your parents?”
    The boy slowly lowers his iPad and levels me with a steely look that knocks the breath out of me. His eyes are so green. Almost as green as—
    “She misses you, too.”
    Okay, this is officially weird.
    “Who misses me?”
    The boy rolls his eyes.
    “ She does.”
    For just a moment, I allow myself to believe it.
    “No, she doesn’t. She’s better off without me. They’re all better off.”
    “You’re wrong.”
    Once again, I’m fascinated by the lost look in his eyes. The resemblance is heartbreakingly remarkable.
    I shake my head. “Well, kid, this has been loads of fun, but why don’t I help you find your parents?”
    He smiles sadly at me.
    “I think you need to see,” he says, jumping off the counter. “And I think I need to be the one to show you. Why don’t you rent a car or call us a cab or something?”
    I laugh and grab my bag. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Not with me, anyway.”
    “Why not?”
    Sighing tiredly, I head out of the restroom and back into the insanity of the airport. Families have begun to build makeshift campsites on the floor. I collapse into the nearest empty chair and scroll through my phone, searching for the nearest hotel.
    Of course he follows me.
    “The car rental place is on the other side of the airport,” he says.
    “Look, kid, I don’t know if anyone’s told