Storm looked around the party sullenly; he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be in Delaware, even if it was to be with his best friend, Kael. He didn’t want to be at this stupid Christmas party. He was an extrovert, but talking to people wasn’t the trouble. Everyone he could see at the party had a sort of…unity going on. Like if he tried to start a conversation with someone, he would be stepping on toes or interrupting a conversation. And the last thing he wanted was to insult these people.
The dark-haired 19 year old  looked to his friend pleadingly. “C’mon, Kael, do I really have to be here?”
Kael looked amused. “I don’t see what you’re so worried about. You make friends as easily as you breathe.”
Storm frowned at that. Normally, it was true. But there was something about the atmosphere of the party that threw him off. Like outsiders weren’t welcome. Friends and family only.
“It’s different for you, Kael, you know everyone here!”
Kael chuckled, his own dark brown hair falling over one eye for a moment before he brushed it away. While both young men had dark hair, Kael’s was much shorter than Storm’s; his reached to his back in a ponytail. “Shall I introduce you to someone, then?” he asked, looking at his friend deviously.
Storm’s eyes widened slightly; he knew that look. “Don’t you dare drag me out there!” he said hastily, backing up towards the wall.
Kael laughed again. “It’s not like you to be the wallflower out of the two of us.” Usually, Kael was the quieter one, Storm being the loud one. “Come now, it’s Christmas Eve! Just go say hi to someone. It’s not like you’ll offend them or something.”
Storm scowled, running a hand through his long bangs and trying to move them out of eyes to no avail. He opened him mouth in retort, then froze as his eyes caught on a figure at the edge of the crowd. Instantly, he was transfixed; his arms, which had been stubbornly crossed, seemed to melt to his sides and dangle there like wet noodles and he was sure his mouth was still slightly agape.
She was the most striking woman he had ever seen. She had medium-length blonde hair that seemed straight but flipped out at the ends, giving it a playful look. Her skin was slightly tanned, and as a farm boy, he could tell that it was the kind of tan you get from being outside a lot. Not dark, but enough so that it’s noticeable. Her complexion was flawless and her eyes were round with happiness at whatever she was talking about with the other women she was with. She was wearing a lovely shade of red lipstick that looked more natural than some of the fire-engine red shades he had seen some women bear. Hers was a sort of muted red that suited her beautifully.
Her dress seemed to match her lipstick well, being about the same shade of muted red. It was a low v-cut and he tried not to let his eyes wander towards her slightly exposed cleavage for very long; his cheeks flushed slightly at the thought of being caught looking there. The v of her dress was outlined in a darker shade of the muted red. The dress was made for her, he thought, as it clung to her in all the right ways. The bottom was the same dark red as the v and her heels, and Storm couldn’t help but wonder how long she had planned this little ensemble.
Kael looked from Storm to the girl and back a few times, a brow raised and an amused grin on his face. He rolled his eyes slightly and gently knocked his elbow under Storm’s chin to get him to close his mouth. That seemed to snap the other boy from his daydreaming quickly and he hastily looked away from her, afraid that she would realize he had been staring for what felt like hours.
“Who is she?” he asked quietly, eyes fixed on the ground so he wouldn’t be tempted to gawk again.
“Her?” Kael looked at her curiously, eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “Hmmm…I’m not sure. She must be a guest.” He paused, then looked up at his taller friend with a sly look to match the one he’d had earlier. “Pretty, isn’t she?”
“Uh, I, er, well…” Storm was thrown into a fit of nonsensical stammering, just as Kael knew he would be; he couldn’t resist seeing his cheeks flush as he tried to deny having stared so openly at her. “I-I mean, y-yeah, I guess she’s sorta pretty, n-n-not that I was lookin’ or anything!” he said with a nervous laugh.
Kael rolled his eyes, looking at Storm knowingly. “Go ask her to dance.”
“What!?”
“No, I mean it! This could be your ticket to breaking the ice here! I don’t know her, so she must be new, and you’re new too. And besides, you said yourself that she’s quite the looker.”
“W-well, yeah, I guess, but--”
“No buts! It’s time you got in the Christmas spirit and mingled a little,” Kael persisted. “Look, I’ll even give you a little space. I have to catch up with a few people. If you don’t ask her to dance by 11 ‘o clock tonight, I’m going to shove you out in the middle of the dance floor and introduce you with a microphone, got it?” Storm grimaced, knowing by the look in his eyes that Kael really meant what he said.
He said nothing as Kael left and glanced at the clock. 10:15...That gave him 45 minutes to ask her for a dance…
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10:40, and Storm was still stuck at the back of the party, sipping punch as he tried to gather his courage. He was far from a good dancer; dancing wasn’t a skill one used on the farm very much. And so this was an entirely new experience for him. First time at a Christmas party, first time asking a girl to dance, first time dancing at all…first time he could hold a girl close to him…And what better girl to start with than her?
What if she turns me down? he thought suddenly, his breath catching in his throat at that realization. What do I do then? Apologize?
He felt anguished at the very thought and took another gulp of punch. “I’ve gotta do this,” he mumbled to himself. He set the dirty glass on the other end of the table and took a deep breath. He glanced around the party, his eyes finding Kael first, and Storm was relieved that his friend didn’t catch his eye at that moment, because then he would have seen the raw anxiety he felt. Finally, he saw the red-dressed-girl, still talking to the same group of girls, although they had shifted their positions. They were sitting down in a circle of chairs. Come on, Storm, he coaxed himself. You can do this.
Storm cautiously made his way through the crowd, apologizing quietly for every person he may have bumped, mumbling “excuse me”s as he went. He glanced at the clock; a quarter till 11. Finally, he reached the girl and his cheeks flushed as he noticed her friends saw him first. They giggled and nudged the girl, pointing to me. She turned around and he was frozen for another minute as he saw her face clearly; she truly was beautiful, and her eyes were a sort of sage green color. He blinked rapidly to snap himself out of it so he wouldn’t stare his way into embarrassment.
“H-hello,” he choked out, coughing as his voice came out as little more than a squeak. But the girl smiled pleasantly up at him, turning in her chair to fully face him.
“Hello,” she replied happily, humor in her eyes. He wasn’t sure if she found him humorous or if she was still laughing inside about her conversation with her friends.
“U-uhm…I was wondering…w-would you…and I mean, if you don’t, I understand but, er….would you like to…d-dance…with me?” Storm bit his lip and glanced aside for a moment, his cheeks flushed brightly as the girls released another peal of giggles. Could they tell he was just some farmer’s-son-hick? After all, some of the people here seemed very well-off. Again, he felt struck with the dread of being turned down.
But instead, a movement caught his eyes. He turned back to her and was amazed that she actually stood up from her chair and walked over to him, grabbing his hand gently. “Of course I would,” she smiled warmly. Storm felt his heart flutter in his throat and a goofy grin crossed his face as he led her out to the dance floor, the girls she had been chatting with still giggling madly.
Storm hesitated on the dance floor, unsure of exactly how to slow dance. However, the girl simply smiled that warm, patient smile again and told him gently to put one hand on her waist and she took one of his hands and held it about level with her head.
“Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow,” she directed him quietly. His eyes were locked on his shoes for a while, trying to get the steps right and not squash her toes at the same time. After about five minutes, he was confident that he had the moves down and he could finally look up at her and smile. And just as he loved, she smiled back with that simplistic joy.
“Sorry,” Storm said with a wry grin. “This is my first time actually dancing.”
“It’s no problem,” she chuckled softly. “My father had me learn how to do all sorts of useless dances when I was younger. I could teach you to foxtrot or waltz or even tango,” she laughed. Storm tried to match her boisterous laugh, although he had no idea what those dances were like.
“Who are you here with?” she asked curiously, her head cocked slightly as she looked up at him, her flipped bangs curling up to tickle her chin slightly.
“Kael,” he said, gesturing with his head to where his friend was standing. She nodded knowingly. “Yes, I’ve seen him around the party. He seems very nice. Quite the gentleman.”
“Yeah, that’s Kael alright,” Storm agreed with a chuckle. “Good nature, good manners.”
“I’m sure you can guess that I came with those women I was talking to. They’re my cousins. They were coming anyways, and since I was staying with them, they just insisted I come.” She pouted slightly, although even her annoyance seemed more playful than sincere. “Said I don’t get out of the house enough to see people. So they lent me this dress and these shoes and they slapped some makeup on and off we went,” she laughed.
“You never come out much?” Storm raised an amused brow, flashing a charming smile. “A butterfly like you? I don’t believe it.”
The girl’s cheeks flushed deeply and she laughed again, looking up at him with eyes that seem to glow with cheer.
They danced together for what felt like hours, just talking about different things. Where they were from, what they did, what was their family like, etc. Storm explained that he had abandoned his family’s farm a couple of years ago for a life of travel, and the girl said that she was the opposite, living with her parents in a small town in Delaware and not really being allowed to do much at all.
When the clock was rounding near midnight, Storm and the girl both felt as if they’d known each other for years. And as naïve as it was to say, it truly felt like love at first sight. They just clicked too well for it to be coincidence. Storm froze in their dance as he looked at the doorway in front of them; a little tuft of mistletoe hung down on a string. The girl turned to look at it and blinked a few times before looking back to her dance partner. Storm flashed a wily grin and spun her as he danced, causing her to clutch onto him tighter. He waltzed her right over to the mistletoe, and as soon as they were under it, he pulled her close to him and brought their lips together. As she returned the chaste kiss, the clock struck twelve, and by the twelfth gong, they were still locked together, oblivious to their surroundings as people cheered, “Merry Christmas!”
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“I’m sorry, I have to go now…” she said softly, looking at the ground sadly. Storm looked just as miserable at her having to depart.
“Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?” he asked. She smiled at him again, although the patience in her smile was tainted with sorrow now; he knew then, somewhere in his subconscience, that he would never see her again.
“Storm, I have to go home so I can rest. I have Christmas with the family tomorrow afternoon…Don’t you have someone to spend Christmas with, too?”
Storm shrugged indifferently. “Kael, but we’ll probably both sleep in. I wish I could spend it with you, instead…”
The blonde nodded in agreement, wrapping her arms around Storm’s neck and kissing him gently. “So do I…” She paused for a moment, looking into his own green eyes wistfully before pulling away from him. “Goodnight, Storm…Take care.”
And with the creaking of a door, she was gone.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at the door of the house before wandering back to the party. He was tired now, all the energy drained from him, so he just plopped down on the floor, back by the punch table. A little while later, Kael found him there half-asleep and suggested they just head back to the apartment. Storm agreed, and Kael could tell there was something off about him, but didn’t ask what. Perhaps the party had just gotten to him…And as Storm stumbled to bed, a thought dashed across his mind and seemed to electrocute him; he was in love with her, and he didn’t even ask for her name.
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A few years later, Storm was back in his hometown in the Midwest, sitting in a diner for his Christmas dinner: ham, cheesy potatoes, and green beans. It was nothing too extravagant, but he really didn’t have money to buy anything better, and his parents had died the previous year so he had no home to go back to. He couldn’t help but think back again, as he often had in the past 2 years, to that nameless girl that he was still smitten for as he picked at his ham moodily. Christmas had always had a bitter tinge to it since that night.
The young waitress that had served him came back, asking him if his food was alright. Storm smiled and nodded, noticing how excited the girl was. Her whole body seemed to spark with electricity. She probably can’t wait to get home to spend Christmas with her family, he thought. “Um, sir? I know this sounds strange, but…well, I’m the only waitress on duty, and you’re the only customer we’ve had all day…” She trailed off hesitantly and his brow furrowed as he tried to decode what she was saying. “Well…if it’s not too much trouble, could you tell me a Christmas story?” When Storm only answered her with a blank stare, she immediately blushed and seemed flustered. “I-I mean, I usually ask whatever customers we get on Christmas but…usually they’re older men, middle-aged or older. I’ve never seen someone so young or…handsome,” she gave a nervous laugh, “ sit here alone on Christmas day…So do you have any stories?”
Storm glanced up at her and motioned for her to sit down at his booth. He smiled warmly and said, “Here’s my favorite Christmas story, about a girl with no name. I met her up in Delaware in 1937, at a party with my friend. She was wearing red lipstick that matched her pretty dress. On December 24th, at a quarter till 11, I finally got the courage up to ask her to dance…”
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As years passed, Storm would travel from town to town, and it seemed every town wanted to hear a Christmas story for whatever reason. Mostly younger kids. And so he would sit down and the children and sometimes adults would gather around him to hear him tell about the woman he’d danced with whose name he’d never asked. By the time he was in his 50s, he finally settled down in a town in the southern area of Michigan and it became a Christmas tradition for him to tell Christmas stories to the little kids. He would tell them the traditional tales, like The Night Before Christmas, but he would always include his little tale about the blonde girl he had danced and fallen in love with as well.
Every Christmas Eve, it seemed, the kids would come to his home before it got too dark out and ask to hear his stories. And after a few years, they all knew his story by heart. They could quote it word-for-word, because he always told it the same. After a while, he came to call it “The Girl With No Name”. “Here’s my favorite Christmas story, about a girl with no name. I met her up in Delaware in 1937, at a party with my friend. She was wearing red lipstick that matched her pretty dress. On December 24th, at a quarter till 11, I finally got the courage up to ask her to dance…”
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About 20 years later, he found himself in bad shape, lying in a hospital bed and wheezing for breath. It was Christmas Eve yet again, and he knew no one would come to visit him. He shut his eyes, waiting for death to whisk him away, when a thought occurred to him: After all his years of telling stories on Christmas Eve, what was a more fitting end than for him to hear one himself? So he looked sheepishly at the little old nurse that clutched at his hand and said, “Ma’am, I know this may sound silly, but could you share a little holiday cheer? I want you to return a favor that I gave for a young girl many years ago. I want you to tell me a Christmas story. Your Christmas story. ..”
And the old woman smiled at him; he may have been old and wrinkled, his hair cut short and gone white, but she would always recognize him. And tears filled Storm’s eyes and spilled down his cheeks as the woman spoke, because the Christmas story she told was his own favorite.
“I met him up in Delaware in 1937. I was at a party with my cousins when he took my hand. Though I never caught his name, he told me he always loved to travel. On December 24th, at a quarter till eleven, I’ve always been so happy that he asked me to dance…”