Hey guys! Just another short Christmassy story from me for this year - hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing it :)

Merry Christmas everyone! xo

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Carrier bags slammed against my legs, the handles digging groves into my wrists and fingers as I half-ran, half-stumbled up the stairs. I panted, out of breath, as I leapt up the last few stairs and dashed out onto the platform –

And saw the train pulling away.

I kept running a little way down the platform, momentum carrying me forward, hoping against hope that maybe the train would stop. It didn’t, and I came to a halt, doubling over and gulping down the cold winter air.

At least it wasn’t raining, too. I didn’t think I could deal with rain right now.

I knew I was red in the face. It was so cold out today, what with snow being forecast later tonight, that I’d had to bundle up in my bobble hat and gloves and scarf, as well as my puffy pink coat. But between the station being too hot, and the fact I’d just run all the way from John Lewis, you could probably have fried an egg on my face.

It took me another few seconds to get my breath back, and I straightened up, hauling my bags up from the ground with me.

You’d have thought, that with it being a few days before Christmas, they’d have scheduled railway maintenance a little earlier in December. But no – there wouldn’t be another train home for two hours.

Bloody fantastic. This was just my luck.

Footfalls sounded behind me, someone running, and before I could turn around to look, they ran right into me, sending me lunging forward, trying to keep my balance (and my many bags in hand).

“Hey, watch it!” I shouted at them, straightening up and turning around. I huffed, tossing my head to flick my hair out of my face and I glared. Sure, it was probably an accident, and you can’t really blame someone when they’re for running for their train – but I was not in the mood.

“I’m sorry,” said a guy, the guy who’d just careened into me. He readjusted his hat – a navy blue knitted one that was too big at the back and sagged, his brown hair peeking out at wild angles from underneath it.

I bit back a sharp retort – because crap, this guy was actually pretty cute.

He was about my age – a bit taller than me, but not by much. I was pretty tall, though. And he looked good. In a black jacket and a blue scarf that didn’t match his hat, and jeans that were on the verge of tearing in the knees, and frayed around the hems.

He was panting, too – but not red in the face, like I probably still was. God, I bet I looked like such a disaster. I bet I had hat hair and was my mascara smudged and did I look like a sweaty, stressed-out mess?

“Was that –” He took a big, gulping breath. “– the train to Ebbw Vale?”

“Yeah.”

“Crap. Oh, shit, shit, bugger, shit.” The guy dropped his carrier bags and pulled his hat off, running the sleeve of his jacket across his forehead before pulling his hat on again. “Do you know when the next one is? Was that the last one?”

“There’s another one at six forty.”

He swore again, and spoke to the floor. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”

“No, I’m – I didn’t mean – I just really needed to get on that train.”

“Same. But there isn’t one for two hours. And maybe watch where you’re going next time you’re running around the train station, yeah?”

I set my shoulders back and marched back down the stairs to the main part of Cardiff Central train station. I’d done all of my shopping, made all the exchanges my mum had asked me to do (Aunt Carol had dropped a dress size over the last few weeks, so all the clothes my mum had bought for her needed to be switched to a smaller size. I’d had a hard battle for the pink floral blouse in Marks and Spencer with some middle-aged woman, since it was the last they had in stock).

There was no point going back to wander around the shops; not when they were heaving with hundreds upon hundreds of frantic Christmas shoppers. And besides – I didn’t think my muscles could take hauling these bags around town for another couple of hours.

I’d just find a seat in the station café. It was too cold to stay outside; I could do without losing my nose to frostbite, thank you very much.

Everyone else waiting for a train seemed to have the same idea, though – there wasn’t a spare seat anywhere in the café.

I rolled my eyes. This day just kept getting better and better.

I shouldn’t have left my Christmas shopping until a few days before Christmas, but it wasn’t like it was my fault. I’d been busy working in Boots back at university in Birmingham the last few weeks, in the manic build up to Christmas, and I’d had end-of-term papers and projects due in…

I’d only just gotten home this weekend, and then we’d had to put up the tree, and I’d had to do the rounds and pop in for a cup of tea with all the grandparents and aunties and uncles I hadn’t seen since reading week back in October.

And that had left me with today, the Monday before Christmas, with almost all my Christmas presents to buy for people.

Oh, and the exchanges Mum needed me to do for Aunt Carol’s presents.

I wanted to cross my arms and get out of all these layers (I was sweltering in this scarf and hat, not to mention the coat), but first, I needed somewhere to sit down.

A couple of girls got up from a table, and I gathered the bags I’d put down while I was waiting and made a beeline for it.

Only for someone else to slide into one of the recently vacated seats a split-second before I could.

 “Damn it,” I said, a little too loudly, and a few people looked around – including the person who’d just sat down with a large Pumpkin Café to-go cup of something hot.

“Oh, hey! It’s you!”

“It’s you,” I muttered in response, scrunching my nose up at the guy. The same guy who’d run into me on the platform. He might be cute, but that wasn’t an excuse for almost knocking me over and stealing my seat. “I was just about to sit here.”

“Then sit here.” He kicked out the chair opposite him, smiling at me.

He had a nice smile. The kind of smile that reached his green eyes, making them sparkle and crease at the corners. The kind that made me want to smile back.

If I weren’t in such a bad mood, I would.

As it was, I just glowered at him, and said, “I’ll just wait for another table,” and turned on my heel, walking right back to where I’d been stood a minute ago, watching people sitting around and waiting for another table to come free.

I waited for twenty minutes. One table did come free – a family left, and another family already waiting with their drinks swooped in and took it.

That was about when I decided to swallow my pride and walk back up to the guy.

He glanced up when I stopped by his table, raising his eyebrows inquisitively at me. “Yeah?”

“Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

“I did offer, earlier.”

“I’m sorry if I was rude,” I said, feeling bad now for being so snappy with him. “I’m just having a bit of a shitty day.”

“Because you missed the train?”

He nudged the chair out with his foot as he spoke, and I dropped into it, arranging my bags around me and under the table, praying they wouldn’t all fall over and spill out everywhere. I held my breath as I let go, and let it out a second later when they all stayed upright.

“Missed the train, couldn’t find some of the presents I wanted to buy for people, got stuck in a queue in John Lewis for forty minutes…” I shook my head, rolling my eyes. “It’s just hellish, shopping this time of year, you know? Like, everyone’s stressed out, and it’s just chaos.”

“That’s part of the fun, though.” The guy grinned at me, showing off all his teeth. The front two at the bottom were crooked. And he had freckles, I noticed. His hair was flat and sticking out haphazardly, probably because of his hat.

I peeled off my own coat, and scarf, and gloves, and decided to leave the hat on. My hair was bound to look hideous underneath.

I gave the guy a sceptical look in response to his words. “That’s your idea of fun?”

“It’s just Christmas,” he said. “Everything about Christmas is great. You can guarantee, every year, the shops will get like this, but people will still stop to listen to carollers in the street and they’ll enjoy themselves, despite it all. Just like you can guarantee there’s always one relative getting wasted at Christmas dinner, and one family fight that always happens and then gets ignored the rest of the day, like it never happened.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Again, that’s your idea of fun?”

“I’m just saying. It’s consistent.”

“Consistent,” I repeated.

“Maybe that's not the right word. I mean, like, tradition.”

“Okay.”

I looked away, a little unnerved by his easy smile, and by how cheery and festive he was when I was still feeling grumpy. I dug my purse out of my handbag, looking for a distraction. “I’m gonna grab a cup of tea, if I’m going to be sitting here for the next hour and whatever. Will you watch my bags for me? Please.”

“Like a hawk.”

 *

I texted my mum while I was in the queue for a drink, letting her know that I’d missed my train. I mean, it wasn’t like I had anything to rush home for – it was just so frustrating. But once I had a large cup of tea in my hands and I’d sat back down, I was feeling distinctly calmer. At least I had somewhere to sit down.

The station was unbelievably noisy – people rushing around, people waiting impatiently for their trains, people rushing through the barriers from their platforms to get to the shops while they still had a couple of hours left to shop…

I turned back to the guy, and realised at that point I didn’t even know his name. The guy was staring into space, or really intently people-watching. I wasn’t sure which.

“I’m Mandy, by the way,” I said, catching his attention.

He smiled back. “Nice to meet you, Mandy. I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you too, Ryan. You know, aside from you almost knocking me over and me being really snappy.”

“Don’t even worry about it. So, Mandy – if we’re introducing ourselves, what do you do?”

“Huh?”

"I mean, like, are you a student, or…?”

“Student. But not here – at Birmingham. I’m studying bio-chem. First year. What about you?”

“Ooh, a science geek.” There was a smirk tugging the one side of his mouth up, but he hid it, taking a sip of his drink. His eyes were creasing around the corners though. “I’m in my second year, studying for a history degree. In Cardiff. But I live around here anyway.”

 “Cardiff was my second choice,” I tell him. “But I didn’t really want to stay too close to home.”

“See, I did. I’ve been home most weekends, if only for something other than Pot Noodles and so I can use the washing machine.”

I smirked. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Pot Noodle kind of guy.”

One of his eyebrows arched, and Ryan leaned across the table a little. “What kind of guy would you have pegged me for?”

I blushed a little, not totally believing I’d just said that out loud. “Um… I – I don’t know.”

“I can cook,” he argued, like I’d just accused him of being a failure in the kitchen. His eyes were wide in earnest. “I just don’t like to. Well. I don’t mind cooking. I don’t like the washing up.”

“I’m getting a vibe here that you don’t like doing chores.”

“Not unless I have to.”

“Your flatmates must hate living with you.”

“Gee, thanks,” Ryan deadpanned, raising both eyebrows at me this time.

“Oh, no – no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just…” I stammered, and hoped I wasn’t blushing again. Not that I was trying to flirt with this guy, but – well, I didn’t want to make a complete fool of myself.

“I’m just winding you up,” he assured me, cracking a grin. “I know what you mean. One of my housemates is really uptight about keeping the house clean so he made a rota.”

“A rota? Wow. We’ve just all been mucking in and trying to keep it clean together.”

“Are you in halls?” I nodded. “Yeah, it’s easier in halls. There’s less to clean. I’m telling you – the hallways and staircases really need to be hovered after a week of us all trampling around.”

I laughed. “Guess I’ve got all that to look forward to next year.”

“Yep.”

We lapsed into silence for a few minutes, both of us resorting to watching the chaos within the train station and sipping our drinks.

I stole another glance at Ryan. He seemed like a nice guy – easy to talk to. Charismatic. And he hadn’t had to offer for me to sit here with him. And, you know, he was really good-looking. He had a small nose, upturned a little at the end, which I noticed now he had his profile turned towards me, and long, curly eyelashes.

He was wearing a plaid blue-on-blue shirt underneath his jacket, but then his head turned toward me so I averted my gaze, pretending to be looking absently at the people at the table behind him.

“How’s your course going, then? I’ve got a friend doing bio-chem and they’re always going on about how much work they’ve got to do.”

I shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I mean, it’s a lot, but I was expecting a lot of work. So…” I cleared my throat. “What about you?”

Ryan shrugged, too, but just the one shoulder. He leaned back, slinging an arm over the back of his chair. “It’s alright. I mean, it’s tough, but I like it. That’s why I picked it. If I’m gonna have to put that much effort into getting a degree, it may as well be in something I enjoy, right? Like, my one friend, he did something in finance, just because he’d heard there were good job opportunities – but he hates maths.”

“Yeah, I know someone who started out doing modern foreign languages for the same reason – but they hated travelling and didn’t ever want to go abroad for longer than a week’s holiday on the beach. They switched to psychology after a while.”

We both swapped stories like that about people at uni with us, until we fell back into silence.

I bit my lip a little, because it was weird.

Not that the silence was weird, or that sitting here with a total stranger was weird.

What was weird was how normal it felt.

And how not-awkward the silence was.

I took the lid off my cup and ran my finger around the rim of the cup, waiting for my drink to cool down a little more. When I looked up again from under my eyelashes, I caught Ryan looking at me.

Instead of looking away really quickly and pretending to have not been staring, like I’d done just a few minutes earlier, he just waggled his eyebrows at me.

And I started laughing.

Then he did, too. I got to that stage of giggles where I couldn’t make myself stop, and I got a stitch in my side; and Ryan was trying to cover up the snorts he was making from laughing so hard.

When I calmed down a little, I was fighting back a smile – because I was worried that if I smiled too wide, I’d start laughing all over again. “Sorry. It’s just… I don’t usually do things like this.”

“What? Christmas shopping? I know you were giving off a ‘Bah, humbug’ vibe earlier, but –”

“No, hanging out with strange boys.”

“I’m actually very ordinary, I’ll have you know. Well. Aside from all the Star Wars figurines I have on a shelf back home. My sister reckons that’s weird. But that’s it.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“For the record, I don’t usually do things like this either. But I couldn’t leave you without a seat, after I stole your table. Tis the season to be... generous, or whatever.”

The sheepish look on his face made him look even more adorable.

“It’s not so bad though,” Ryan added. “You seem pretty nice. I mean, you could’ve been a total weirdo.”

“I am,” I deadpanned. “I’m just waiting for the right moment to break it to you.”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

“So, Ryan,” I said then, looking for another topic of conversation. “Any plans for New Year’s?”

“Why, are you inviting me somewhere?”

“Ha-ha. Asking what your plans are for Christmas Day seems a little bit personal.”

Ryan didn’t comment on that, just gave a little half-nod of acknowledgement. His gaze drifted past me, like he was thinking. “Well, I got an invite to this party from someone one of my housemates knows, from university. I was probably going to go there. I usually hang out with some of my mates and have some beers and watch fireworks, but the girl whose house we usually go to is on holiday, so…”

“Fair enough. I’m probably going to a house party, too. Actually, it’s someone who goes to Cardiff uni. This girl I know from school.”

“What’s her name? Maybe it’s the same party.” He laughed, but gave me an exaggerated look of hopefulness. Like, of all the people at Cardiff University throwing house parties, we might actually be going to the same one.

So I humoured him, and told him, “Her name’s Lydia Barrow. Um, she lives with some girls called… Olivia, and Renée, and… Crap, I forget what the other two are called…”

“No way!” Ryan exclaimed, slapping a palm on the table. I jumped at his enthusiasm, and a few people glanced over. “That’s the one I’m going to! Lydia’s the one my housemate is friends with!” He said the name of the street as well, and I just nodded, dumbstruck.

My face fell.

I didn’t mean to look so mortified, but – well, but.

What were the chances that this guy would be going to the same New Year’s party as me? This was crazy. This kind of thing just didn’t happen.

Even if things did seem weirdly normal with Ryan, I’d been kind of holding onto the fact that we’d probably never bump into each other ever again, because…

I knew why, but I didn’t really want to admit it to myself.

Because I could feel myself really fancying him. And I knew that I’d probably spend the next couple of weeks while I was home hoping to bump into him again and that maybe we’d get to know each other more and he’d ask for my number and –

And then what?

And then nothing, probably.

Which was exactly why I never wanted to see him again after today.

“What?” Ryan asked me. “You don’t think I’m some creepy stalker now, or something, do you?”

“No, no, I – I’m just really shocked, that’s all.”

There was an announcement then overhead, that the next train to Ebbw Vale Parkway would be arriving at Platform Zero in twenty minutes.

A bunch of other people started standing up around us, and Ryan drained the last of his drink, which must’ve been cold by now.

“It’s early,” I commented, looking at my watch. Thirty minutes ahead of schedule.

And despite how annoyed I’d been about the delay earlier, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

We both stood up, and Ryan waited while I collected all my carrier bags up and arranged them so the weight was evenly distributed across both my wrists. “Do you want me to carry some for you?” he asked, as I struggled to swap a Waterstones bag from one hand to the other without dropping anything.

“No, it’s okay, thanks. I’ve got it.”

I straightened up, then, bags sorted, and smiled at him. He smiled back, that smile that made my stomach flutter with butterflies, and we started toward the platform.

We chatted a little more while we waited for the train, and then got seats next to each other. I let Ryan take some of my bags from me to get onto the train and sit down, because there were so many of them they piled up around both our legs.

We talked through the rest of the train journey, too – about university, about Christmas, about the new Hobbit movie neither of us had seen yet.

As the train began to slow down for its first stop at Rogerstone, Ryan peeled himself out from underneath all my bags and stood up. “This is my stop. It was great meeting you, Mandy.”

“And you. Thanks for letting me share your table.”

“No problem.” He hesitated, and for one wild moment, I thought maybe he’d ask for my number.

And then I blurted, “Can I have your number?” and totally hated myself for it. So I added, blushing and stammering, “Um, just, you know, in case we wanted to um, meet up, at Lydia’s party, or – or something…”

Ryan’s eyes creased up again, while he tried to hide a smile. “Sure.”

I handed him my phone, and waited. The train started slowing down and my heart started racing.

Ryan handed it back as the train stopped, and the doors hissed open. “Maybe you can meet me underneath the mistletoe?”

He winked, and then turned to stride out of the doors, calling, “Bye, Mandy!” over his shoulder – leaving me feeling totally stunned and staring after him even after the train had pulled out of the station.

 *

“Mandy!” My mum waved a hand in front of my face. “It’s your turn, come on. Stop daydreaming.”

I shook myself, looking back down at the half-filled Scrabble board. We always played Scrabble on Christmas afternoon – in the lull between Christmas dinner with my dad’s parents, and the evening with all my aunties and uncles and cousins on my mum’s side of the family.

I looked back at the letters on my rack, and spelled out the word ‘hearts’.

I wasn’t just distracted by the rumoured deaths on the Eastenders Christmas special that would air in a couple of hours, or the fact that it was Christmas.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Ryan.

He’d text me, this morning. At seven am, when I’d just been woken up by my brother and sister so we could start unwrapping presents. He’d just sent ‘Merry Christmas xxx’ – which was pretty generic, I figured. But then I’d replied, to say something along the lines of ‘you too’, and he’d text again.

We’d been talking over text most of the day.

And even though I knew it was totally stupid, because I’d only met the guy once, I really liked him.

I hadn’t talked to him since the other day on the train. I’d thought about it a lot though – talking to him, I mean. I just hadn’t known what to say. I hadn’t had a boyfriend in a couple of years, not since Harry Jones when I was fifteen. And that only lasted two months.

I wasn’t exactly confident, when it came to guys.

My phone buzzed again as my brother started laying down his tiles, spelling out ‘kicker’.

Another text from Ryan.

 ‘You still going to Lydia’s party? Xxxx’

'Yep,’ I replied, ‘no other plans have come up. Xxxx’

I thought it was rude not to send any kisses back when he was sending some, but I wasn’t sure if this counted as flirting or not.

“Who’re you texting, Mandy?” my dad asked.

“Um, just, uh, my friend.”

His eyebrows went up. “A boy friend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” I objected, a little too quickly, blushing a little.

“But he is a he,” my sister Kayleigh said, jumping on the Let’s Humiliate Mandy bandwagon. “Oh my god. Is this the same guy you met at the station on Monday?”

“Maybe,” I mumbled.

Mum nudged me with her elbow. “What’s he saying?” I tried to turn my phone away, but she’d already peeked. “Ooh, four kisses! You only usually send one.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever.”

“Mandy’s got a boyfriend, Mandy’s got a boyfriend,” Sam, my brother, started singing, making me grind my teeth. Why, why did they have to make such a big thing about it? Did they love making me feel this embarrassed?

I was blushing, and I knew it.

“He is not my boyfriend, okay? We’re just… talking, is all.”

“Are you going on a date with him?” Kayleigh asked, leaning across the scrabble board to me so enthusiastically that she knocked some of the tiles out of place.

“We’re thinking of meeting up at Lydia’s New Year’s party,” I admitted, squirming in my seat and purposely not mentioning the fact that he’d asked me to meet him under the mistletoe there. “Sort of.”

“Sounds serious,” my dad said, with a hint of disapproval that dads are so good at.

“It’s not a date,” I said firmly, “definitely, definitely, not a date.”

My family exchanged looks, and then my mum said, “Of course not, sweetie. I think The Grinch is on Sky Movies now. Shall we watch that?”

 *

Lydia’s house party was chaotic, but in a good way. I felt warm and fuzzy inside from the Bucks Fizz they’d bought in boxes for everyone to drink, and smiled as I watched people dancing to Saturday Night Fever.

I wasn’t sure who had taken up the role of DJ, but they were playing songs we used to all dance to in school discos – and everyone was loving it.

I was, too, of course, but I wasn’t dancing.

I’d danced a lot earlier, with some of my friends from school who were here, and I’d been chatting to people I hadn’t seen since the summer for a while, too.

Now, it was only three minutes to midnight, and where was I?

That’s right.

I was hanging around the door to the dining room, where Lydia and her housemates had hung some mistletoe.

I’d told myself I wouldn’t – that I wasn’t even that interested, I just liked the romantic notion, and I was better than just a romantic notion.

Which was a total lie.

Ryan and I had text a little more over the last few days since Christmas. He called me the one evening, to talk properly, but I hadn’t been brave enough to call him. It seemed a whole step ahead of texting.

Besides – when he text me something a little bit flirty, I could think about what to reply and whether to acknowledge it or not. When we talked on the phone, I couldn’t wait for five minutes to think of a response.

Two minutes.

I looked around, standing on my tiptoes and trying to look casual as my eyes swept the room. I didn’t want it to seem like I was looking for someone special.

The music switched to Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, and people sang along at the top of their voices, losing all their inhibitions. I grinned, then looked down at my glass of warm Bucks Fizz I’d been nursing for the last half-hour. I wanted to join in, but…

But I wanted to see Ryan more.

I hadn’t seen him all night – and even though the house was teeming with people, it wasn’t exactly a huge house, so there were only so many places he could’ve been.

Maybe he’d decided not to come at the last minute.

Or maybe he’d seen me and was purposely avoiding me.

“Thirty seconds!” someone screamed, and people started shrieking and jumping around. The music turned off, and someone turned up the volume on the TV, so we could all hear the BBC countdown to the New Year.

“Ten!”

I looked around again.           

“Nine!”

He wasn’t interested after all.

“Eight!”

I couldn’t blame him. I mean, I hadn’t made the greatest first impression, or anything.

“Seven!”

 I looked around on the other side of the doorway, into the dining room, but he wasn’t there either. People were running around, trying to find their significant other, or their crush, or someone they’d been snogging all night already.

I pressed my back against the wall, wishing it would swallow me up.

“Four!”

Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned – it was someone who just wanted to get me out of the way, probably. I was kind of blocking the door.

“Three!”

Ryan grinned at me. His hair was sticking out again, and his cheeks were pink and flushed, and his eyes were bright and made my heart do weird somersault things in my chest.

“Ryan.”

“You actually came to meet me here,” he said, like he didn’t believe it.

"Two!”

“Well, yeah, I mean – I… I wanted to,” I admitted, sheepishly.

As I was stammering, everyone around me shouted “One!” and before I could make another coherent word, Ryan’s hands cupped my face, and his head dipped down to catch my lips in a kiss. He tasted like gingerbread and Bucks Fizz.

And his hair was soft as I ran my fingers through it.

We broke apart, but didn’t move away from each other. I was on my tiptoes – I hadn’t noticed he was so much taller than I was – and our noses were squished together. And I started worrying that those nuts I’d eaten earlier made my breath smell funny –

"Merry Kiss-mas, Mandy,” he said.

I laughed, and kissed him lightly again, because I just couldn’t resist. “Are you always this cheesy?”

“Cheesier,” he said, “I’m just waiting for the right moment to break it to you.”

I smiled, and Ryan pulled me close so I was wrapped up in his arms. The noise of the party seemed muffled, like it was just a show on the TV in the background with the volume turned low.

“Well, Merry Kiss-mas to you too,” I told him softly, heart soaring when he kissed me again.

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Well, I hope you enjoyed it! 

If you did, make sure to keep an eye out for my next short story, "Cwtch Me If You Can" - it's going to be published as part of the UK's Quick Reads scheme, the aim of which is to encourage adults who aren't very confident readers to try reading more. The book is due out in February/March and I'm hoping to be able to put a free sample up on Wattpad - but it's only going to cost £1 !!!!!

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and have a brilliant New Year :)

xo