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Chapter 22--It's The Thought That Truly Counts

Harper

The Sanders have always been a festive Christmas family. I think jolly runs in their middle name. When Vincent and I arrived at his house, everything was already decorated. The staircase has small bells, the front lawn is covered in light up deer, string lights, and some inflatables. At night, this house looks pretty spectacular. I wonder how long it took Mr. Sanders to set everything up.

The only thing they seem to be missing is the tree. Mr. Sanders and Vincent make it a tradition for them to go pick a tree every year. And every year this house smells like pine. We all pitch in to decorate, but the guys like to go together—it gives them some father/son bonding where Mrs. Sanders and I use the time to do our own things.

This year, it's dress shopping. I grab a coat from the guest room and make my way downstairs. "Did the guys leave already?" I ask as I enter the living room.

Mrs. Sanders is wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. You know, the kind that are honestly repulsive yet are considered very festive. She mutes the TV and turns to face me. "Yeah," She answers. "About five minutes ago. You ready to go?"

I smile, "Yes."

I've been trying my best to forget what had almost happened with Logan. I keep telling myself I had a weak moment. But then I think back to him and how he pulled away. Not me. He had the self-control whereas I wanted him to kiss me. It just makes me feel worse.

Being here with Vincent keeps making me feel guilty. I love him, so much. Which is why I'm not sure whether to tell him or not. A part of me wants to but another part is afraid. What if he gets mad or starts doubting us? I'm not sure what I would do at that point. I'm stressed out about this enough, I don't need to add anything else in the mix.

"Are you alright Harper?" Mrs. Sanders asks as we drive towards the mall. We've been listening to music and she's been asking me a lot about school. To be honest though, I've been detached from the conversation and I'm not surprised Mrs. Sanders picked up on it.

I lean my elbow against the door and shrug. It's not like I can talk to Mrs. Sanders about it either. Whenever I had some sort of dilemma I would always call her. She helped me figure out who my real friends in high school were. She helped me with dumb drama that at the time made it feel like it was the end of the world. Whenever I brought friends home, she would automatically analyze who was fake and who was good for me. Sometimes, even when Vincent and I would fight, she would also give me advice.

When I was trying to figure out where to go to college she sat down with me several times. Eventually, she asked me the one question that made me truly decide where to go: "What does your heart tell you?"

"I'm just confused," I answer truthfully even though I hold back some of the truth.

Mrs. Sanders quickly glances at me from the corner of her eye. "Anything I can help with sweetie?" She asks.

"I don't know," I say making her frown. "I'm just conflicted."

"About?"

I lick my lips, considering telling her the truth. But maybe she'll tell Vincent. After all, he is her son. Finally, I settle with, "Well...remember how last year I couldn't decide between two schools?"

"Yes..."

"I'm kind of in that situation again," I say. She raises her eyebrow, so I quickly add, "Except now it's between my classes. And I'm considering another major."

Mrs. Sanders smiles, "Doubting education, huh?"

I doubt Mrs. Sanders would be upset if I decide to change my major. In fact, I have been considering it. There are some classes I've been enjoying more than others. I always thought of being a teacher because of Mrs. Sanders. Now that I'm finally in college though, changing my major and following a different path keeps unintentionally springing up in my mind.