“I did not know that.” Kyle looked genuinely interested. Details had worked! “How did they get into that?”
Details had NOT worked!! “Erm, you know. Went to Lapland once. One thing led to another.”
“I see,” he said politely, as if we’d all been there.
“And now my parents travel the country with the” – what on earth was a group of reindeer called? I tried to think, but Neil Armstrong just came back – “er … flight?”
“Flight?”
It was herd, wasn’t it? HERD.
“That’s what we call the ones who pull the sleigh.”
“Cool.” Kyle nodded. “And what are they called?”
“Gabe and Ange?” Silence. “Oh, you mean the business!” That made more sense. “Reindeers R Us?” Reindeers R Us? Grace was never going to stop laughing when I told her. Kyle picked up his phone. “I wouldn’t. We don’t have a website. It’s very much word of mouth.”
I tried to look like that was totally obvious to anyone who worked in the industry. The reindeer-hiring industry.
“Oh, OK.” He put his phone away, as if embarrassed by his lack of reindeer-acquiring knowledge. “I guess it explains why premieres aren’t your jam… This must all be normal for you?”
A normal Saturday for me: Grace trying and failing to teach me a dance routine, and then seeing how many free samples we could get from the hot pretzel stand in town before they recognized us.
“Soooo normal.” I looked at the floor in case he saw the fear in my eyes. “All those D-list celebs?” I sucked in some air through my teeth. I wanted to sound as disconnected from the film as I could. “And this film looks terrible. Apparently Maeve and Joseph thingy are a nightmare.” Did that sound like something an unimpressed daughter of a reindeer handler would say? Who knew?! “What about you? Are you a fan?”
Kyle stretched back.
“Well, I’m dodging my usher duties and hiding out in a storage room, so draw your own conclusion.” He looked a tiny bit guilty. “To be totally real, Christmas films don’t do it for me.”
I smiled. Finally. Someone who felt the same way about Christmas as me!
“Me neither! And my best mate said this one is as Christmas cheesy as it gets. Apparently every character has a Christmas-themed name and it’s snowing in every scene. Oh, and the acting is so bad it’s funny for all the wrong reasons.” Not exactly Grace’s words, but hopefully that made it sound like I really was avoiding it and not just on the run from the red-carpet police or elf fans.
Kyle softly whistled, but he was smiling.
“And I thought I’d been harsh about it…” He laughed and held his hand up in a high five. “Here’s to romantic comedies being the worst.” I slapped his hand. “And us all dying alone and miserable at Christmas.”
“Now you’re talking!” I slapped it even harder. But his phone was wobbling about in the drink holder, making the loudest rattle. We both looked down.
The screen was faced in my direction and there was a call coming through with a picture of a girl standing on a beach, her back to the camera. Super cute. Although what was that name?! “Better Half A 
”.
I had to swallow to stop myself snorting. Seconds ago he’d been pretending not to be a cheesy romantic, but he was as bad as Grace!
“Sorry.” He snatched the phone and cut the call. Which didn’t seem that nice a way of dealing with your “better half”. “I’ll call her back in a bit.”
“You sure…” I said as it rang again. But he just cut it.
“Yeah, it’s nothing urgent.” I couldn’t help but notice he flicked “Do Not Disturb” on.
But I had enough drama right now, without getting caught up in someone else’s.
“So…” he said, extra cheery. Had he noticed the weird silence too? “You haven’t told me. Who is my mysterious popcorn attacker?”
But something about how he cut the call had taken me back to feeling even less like sharing than normal.
“You can call me Dasher,” I said calmly. “And I already know you’re Kyle…”
He looked confused with my mind-reading skills, but then followed my eyes down to his name badge.
“I prefer Rudolph actually.” He grinned. If Grace was here she’d say it was a cute grin. But unlike Grace, my heart was password protected. Triple security locked. The safest way. “Ru to my friends.” He held his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Dash.”
“You too, Ru.” I shook it back. I guess it was nice to meet him too – I hadn’t thought about small elves or red-carpet not-rampages for at least two minutes, which felt like some kind of record. And once the weirdness of the call faded and we started chatting, we didn’t stop. I think it was something to do with all the stress of today, this week, combined with the safety of him having no idea who I really was, and us never seeing each other again, that after my bombshell that in the UK we put pyjamas under our pillows, and him going in deep on how Brits were meant to wash their faces when our hot and cold taps were separate, I ended up telling him all about Grampy G’s Grotto. We’d had loads of ideas for the party, and I was really looking forward to Grace finally getting to do her Nutcracker dance – she was pulling out all the stops as Simon had never seen her in action. Ru said it sounded awesome, and way better than his Christmas, which was working till Christmas Eve then heading back to America just after. He didn’t seem bothered about leaving the UK, and I got the impression his parents moved loads for their jobs. He didn’t go into detail, but apparently it was something to do with this cinema chain, which I guessed was how they’d swung him this job. And somehow that led me on to how annoying Jess (sharing real family names was too risky) was and how I was going to be stuck sharing a room with Tilly for ever, and how I was still waiting to hear back from Zaiynab about The POWR. Ru asked if he could see some of my lyrics, but I gripped my fingers round my notebook in my pocket and told him I didn’t have any with me. But as I explained how much I’d love making music, I realized I’d told him more than I had to a single person back home since I’d moved. Well, except Grace, but she didn’t count as she was basically me.
“That’s so cool, Dash. Although, shame you haven’t got any stuff with you. Not even on your phone…” Ru said, knowing full well I would do. But I didn’t react. “I can’t even write good text messages, let alone lyrics.”
I shrugged awkwardly. “Well, the band haven’t said yes so…” Maybe my lyrics were rubbish after all? And talking about it with anyone who wasn’t Grace felt all niggly like when I wore my pants that had shrunk. Time to move on. “Did I tell you there’s a house in my village that puts up over two hundred Christmas lights?” Ru didn’t need to know it was mine.
“Intense. Are all the neighbours into it?”
“I’m definitely not,” I said truthfully.
Ru stretched his legs out. “When I was little, my grandparents used to do this thing where they hung a pickle ornament on the tree—”
“Like a mini Branston?” His grandparents sounded like a match for my mum and dad! But he looked as confused as me.
“Are we talking the same language?” He turned his phone round and showed me a picture he’d just googled.
“Oh, a gherkin!”
