Uhh, what the fuck just happened?

My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I jet down the stairs toward the car. At some point along the way, possibly in the foyer of the house, I shout the plans about Zoey and I leaving to my parents. Without even registering what Mom's response is, I snatch my coat and gloves and sprint out the door.

Snow drizzles down lightly as my boots crunch quickly against the ice. My coat isn't fully on, but the cold air that hits me doesn't seep into my buzzing skin. I hop into my mother's car and fumble with the keys before turning on the engine. A low hum fills the space from both the engine and cranked up heat. Gripping the steering wheel, I stare at the quiet suburban street being covered with newly fallen snow, my mind moving a thousand miles a minute.

No, seriously....what the fuck is happening?

Words and images spill like tomato alphabet soup on a plush carpet. I take a deep breath to slow my heart rate and review the facts.

Zoey.

Minutes ago.

Zoey, minutes ago.

Another deep breath.

When I saw Zoey....in her Akin underwear and bralette...Jesus, my stomach fled up to my throat and vertigo threatened to grab me face first.

Thank God I got out of there before she could sense anything amiss. I don't need to be throwing out psychotic accusations toward someone who may not be who she could be.

Because there's no way...

Erika must have told Zoey about the conversation she and I had in the car. These sisters are playing some sort of prank on me.

I grip the steering wheel tighter. But...how? I never told Erika the brand or color of the underwear.

Or maybe when the sisters talked about it, Zoey pulled some underwear bottoms from my bag to wear? And the bralette she had on could just coincidentally be the same one GP has?

My chest spasms. Is that right? It can't be because... how would the sisters have even talked? Erika's been stuck in her room and there wasn't much time after lunch to mastermind this plan.

The fact of the matter is Zoey is wearing a beige bralette that matches the color of her skin and has a logo trim labeled AKIN along the band beneath her rounded breasts. I shift in my seat as images of her struggling to put her top back on come to mind along with her breasts bouncing and straining against the thin fabric. It all happened so fast, but I caught a glimpse of her peaked nipples again. My stomach somersaults and my mouth falls open.

Holy shit.

Is it possible? Is Zoey Franklin Ms. Granny Panties? My GP? The person who I've been talking and flirting with for months and who I've been harboring a deep seated crush for during that time?

The pieces of my mind's alphabet soup slowly move to spell out "THINK". I need to review the evidence.

1. Akin Underwear. The same underwear. And it doesn't seem to be too popular of a brand among women.

2. GP has a difficult relationship with her parents. And what I witnessed at lunch seems exactly that.

3. The Franklins are from California. GP lives in California.

4. The most damning one—Zoey is a mural artist just like GP. How did I not see it before? How many young mural artists are out there? How many are out there who wear Akin underwear and have a wickedly addictive sense of humor?

Oh my God. I've never believed in fate or luck but now...who the hell knows what I believe?

Nausea flies through me and I set my pulsing head on the steering wheel. If it's true...if Zoey is Granny Panties, then I must have a guardian angel. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen and who is staying in the same house as me is the same one I've been falling for over text.

Elation fills me at the thought but then it's quickly replaced by a heavy weight when another thought surfaces: Zoey has a boyfriend.

I glance up and squint at a misshapen snowman figurine in a neighbor's yard, icy hot moisture prickling over my skin. She can't be GP then, since GP is sworn to singlehood. Unless...has GP been lying to me? My blood heats beneath my skin, simmering like a pot of water on a stove. What the hell? Does GP—Zoey—whoever the hell she is—have a boyfriend?

Maybe GP and I aren't as close as I thought we were? Maybe she didn't feel comfortable enough to tell me what was going on? I replay Zoey's deliciously snarky comments from the past day and the sharp bite of jealousy stings my chest. Zoey has a boyfriend. She said so herself and I caught her drooling over him in my bed. My fucking bed.

The thunk of the passenger door opening and Zoey's rosy-cheeked face popping into view makes me let out an "Ahh!" I quickly school my features from the scare but my heart is ready to punch through my ribcage, grab hold of the woman in front of me, and shake her for the truth.

Her eyes grow wide. "Sorry! I—uh didn't mean to scare you." Her coat swishes as she climbs to the seat and starts buckling herself in.

I force a laugh, shaking off the nerves as best I can. "No, you're good. I'm just lost in my head."

"Sorry I took so long. The Moms caught me and were asking questions about where we were going." She scrunches her nose and it's so freaking adorable. Even her voice sounds sweeter, and I'm reminded of that first conversation I had with her—I mean, Granny Panties—on the phone all those months ago. "You alright?" she asks as her brown-eyed gaze locks into mine. My stomach flips again and for a moment I'm struck by the weight of it all. The stunning woman sitting next to me could very well be the woman of my dreams. My throat dries up and all I can do is nod. 

I whip my face toward the windshield and close my mouth. "Y-yeah. All good," I finally manage to say. My voice sounds weird, like it's been scraped against gravel.

I still don't know for sure if she's GP. It's too wild...too crazy, to be true. "Feel free to pick a station you like," I say while pressing the knob to turn on the radio. Santa Baby from 102.7 instantly blares through the speakers. I grab my phone from my pocket and add while unlocking it, "My mom doesn't have Bluetooth or anything fancy in her car so only the radio works."

"Wow, usually my sisters and I fight to be car DJ. So generous of you to let me pick." While Zoey starts cycling through the pre-set stations, I discreetly open up the message chat with GP and shoot off a message about the first thing that comes to mind with shaky fingers.

Me: I'm trying to find a good song to listen to. What's your favorite one?

After tucking my phone back into my pocket, I take note of Zoey for any shifts. Her phone isn't visible on her and she's still concentrating on which station to settle on. Maybe she already knows I'm BB and somehow this whole ordeal is connected to that? I study the innocence on her face and doubt douses the theory. Nothing points to her knowing. This really could all just be the most insane coincidence in the history of coincidences.

"I guess we have no choice but to listen to Christmas music," she says and then makes the cutest pout as different songs with similar melodies pipe into the car with each click. God, all I want right now is to know what those lips taste like.

But I can't think like that without knowing the full truth and without meticulously thinking through what I'm going to do about it. I can't trust things will be fine when so much could go wrong.

"You don't like Christmas music?" I ask as I peel off of the curb and onto the street. "First ruining the whole Santa thing for kids and now no Christmas music? I'm starting to think you really are a Scrooge." My tone is light, but my stomach drops. Was that a conversation I had with Zoey or GP? Or was it both? Oh my God. It was both. Another piece of evidence in the most bizarre case in history.

Also, I need to be careful about what I say. If she finds out about what's happening, I could lose GP forever. Zoey and I haven't exactly had the best footing to start. Plus, let's not forget she already has a fucking boyfriend.

She laughs and settles on a station playing Jingle Bell Rock. "I like certain types of Christmas music. The Killers is my favorite band and they have some pretty good Christmas ones."

"I haven't listened to them much but I'll have to check them out."

"Can I guess your favorite music?" she asks around a flirtatious smirk that shoots right into my veins like an addictive drug. I don't think I'll ever get over this wild turn of events. Zoey is objectively beautiful but finding out that she could carry the personality of the funniest person I've ever met—a person I've come to know and call a good friend—has catapulted her to bombshell status. I used to fantasize about what GP looked like, but nothing could have prepared me for the beauty sitting right next to me.

Maybe deep down I knew? Ever since I laid eyes on her there was something buried deep in my soul that woke up from slumber. Like it's been waiting my whole life for something—rather, someone—to give it life.

"Shoot," I say as casually I can with a smile back.

"I'd say you crack that Mariah Carey icebox as soon as Thanksgiving ends."

I let out a loud chuckle and in all seriousness say, "Nothing will ever or could ever compete with All I Want For Christmas is You."

"I knew it!"

If only she knew the half of it. "But I'm not as much of a basic bitch as you think I am, Zoey. While I do love a pumpkin spice latte every once in a while, I like non-mainstream things and music sometimes."

"What's your favorite band?" she asks through a giggle.

"I don't really have favorites. It's hard to pick because there are so many good ones out there."

"Well, let's say you're being sent to the electrocution chair, and you get to pick one last song to listen to, what would you pick?"

"Depends. Am I listening to the song in my jail cell beforehand or am I already strapped into the electrocution chair?" I slow the car turning onto Main Street where tons of people are walking along the sidewalks, in and out of the various holiday-decked out shops that line the road. The sense of normalcy with seeing people moving about their lives in my hometown steadies my heart and draws me back to earth.

"Let's say you're being strapped in. Very last song you hear before tchk." She makes the sound with her cheek as she crosses her neck with her pointer finger.

"Hmm. Probably The Final Countdown. That'd be an epic way to have an exit."

She laughs and it's a sound that is quickly becoming my drug of choice. We pass the end of the strip of shops and I pull into the main parking lot. I spot some of my friends in the distance, at the park's entrance when I come to a full stop.

"Ready?" I ask, but my heart starts pounding hard when Zoey pulls out her phone.

A hidden message notification is up on her screen and unfolds when her face deactivates the lock screen. What I see is the final piece of evidence I needed. Worlds and stars collide. Mountains move into the sea. And this Christmas just got infinitely more interesting and hell of a lot messier.

Mr. Boxer Briefs <3