My grandfather had always held a Santa-eque quality about him. Or a Zeus like appearance. At a push, you could even liken him to Leonardo da Vinci. He's old and has a bushy white beard, which is the main feature that Santa, Zeus and da Vinci all have in common. But seeing him wearing the full Santa costume, with the red jacket with gold buttons, the shiny black boots, the red, fur trimmed hat- and those glasses- made it really uncomfortable for me to sit here and talk to him.

"Can you take off the hat and glasses?" I ask, reaching my hand out to remove the hat. My hand, however is swatted away by my grandfather as he scowls at me.

"Do not touch the hat!" He practically yells, his face going puce. "How dare you disrespect Santa like that."

"Seriously?" I ask. Grandpa quirks an eyebrow at me, almost challenging me to say anything different. I hold up my hands and sit comfortably on the small wooden stool. "So, what happens next? I mean, I'm in here and apparently you're Santa, so what do we do now?"

Grandpa beamed. "Why, Peyton," he takes on a weird tone to his voice, almost jovial in the way he speaks. "You tell me what it is you'd like for Christmas. But remember, you'll only receive your gift if you have been good this year."

I face palm. Honestly, I do not understand how I ended up in this predicament. How is it that I've ended up sitting with my grandfather in a grotto two weeks before Christmas while I'm on a date that I hijacked from a girl that will probably kill me once she found out I imitated her? My life is beyond complicated right now, and all I want to do is wake up and realize that this was all a dream and that it's not really happening.

I close my eyes tightly and count to three, opening them slowly to see if I've woken up from my nightmare. Unfortunately, I haven't.

Grandpa looks at me like I should be in some sort of institute for the mentally disabled, and a part of me is there with him on that idea. There must be something fundamentally wrong with me that I would find myself in this situation with no way out of it. The more I think about how I ended up in this mess, the more I start to think about how I'm going to get out of it. Clearly, I haven't thought that side of it through quite yet.

I hadn't given any thought to what would happen after this night is over. Pretending to be Olivia Campbell and going out with Elliott Anthony was only supposed to be a one night deal, but it was more complicated than that. Tomorrow, or sooner, Elliott would find out that I'm not Olivia Campbell, and instead, I'm Peyton Ellis, the depressed girl of St. Bernadette's. He'll know that I lied to him and he'd know that I kept up the ruse for the entire evening. He'll hate me for it, too. I could feel it in my heart.

"Peyton, darling," Grandpa's sweet voice breaks through my thoughts as his hand comes to grasp mine tightly. "My love, are you okay? You've gone awfully pale."

I shake my head at him. "Grandpa, I messed up."

"I'm sure you haven't," he says assuredly. The big smile he sends my way is supposed to be reassuring, but all I feel is the bitterness that I'll disappoint him once he knows the truth. "You're one of the best people I know, Peyton, and there's nothing you could have done that cannot be fixed. Now, tell me all about it and I'm sure that we can work out a way to make things better. Start at the beginning, Peyton."

I'm not sure why, but I felt compelled to go back to the start of junior year, because for me, that's the beginning. It was a Tuesday afternoon and I was walking across St. Bernadette's campus, heading for the gate the led through to St FX's campus. Being partner schools, our campuses were close by and it was only a short walk to the boys' school. Because Political Science was a relatively new course, and not many girls were interested in it, the three of us that had enrolled were asked to undertake the classes at St. Francis Xavier, where there'd be a class of fifteen boys taking the course.

I'd only ever been over to St. FX once, and that was only because Jackson was a student there when I was in my freshman year. Walking towards the imposing buildings that made up the boys' school was daunting, even more so when I walked down the hallway, feeling the eyes of about ninety boys on me. I kept my head down, my long hair shielding me from their wondering gazes.

It wasn't long until I bumped into someone and all our books went flying across the parquet flooring. Scrambling to gather my things, I didn't look up to see who I'd bumped into, but I did see the name written on one of his binders. Elliott Anthony. Of course, I knew who he was. By reputation, we all knew Elliott Anthony, but no one ever seemed to really know him.

It came as a shock to me then, that I followed this infamous boy all the way to room A-12 where I was told my PoliSci class would be held. Naturally, being a girl in a boys' school, the guys all looked up when I walked in. I noticed that the other two girls- one a junior named Florence, and a senior named Catelyn- had already arrived and were happily sitting at the back of the small classroom, meaning the only seat remaining was the one in the center of the room.

I claimed it as mine. It wasn't like I had a choice, but I still like to think that I chose it. Behind me sat Elliott Anthony, and in front of me was the boy that would later introduce himself to be Markus Levine.

Skip forward a few months and I'd settled in with the whole girl-in-a-boys'-school thing and was pretty familiar with some of the boys in my class. Markus had started taking more of an interest in me, and soon enough, he was asking me out on a date. I accepted and within a few weeks, I was officially his girlfriend.

At this juncture, I skipped over my entire relationship with Markus, sparing my grandfather all the details that weren't relevant to him. I moved on to that June trip to Bean where, out of the blue, Markus broke up with me without giving me a valid reason. I explained that I was heartbroken and that the demise of our relationship had signaled the beginning of my 'checked out' phase, a period in my life that Grandpa was more than familiar with.

Anyway, once I explained how the breakup had affected me, and how going to Bean every Friday night had become my therapy, I started to tell him all about tonight, and how Elliott Anthony- the guy that I'd bumped into more than a year ago- was mistaking me for Olivia Campbell, the more beautiful girl at St. Bernadette's.

I told him how I'd lied and pretended to be Olivia. How Elliott had bought me my first cinnamon latte and took me to the mall. I told Grandpa about how I'd bought Elliott a record player so he could play the Bruce Springsteen record he'd been eyeing up in Sonic Sounds. I explained how I'd practically had a full on mental break down upon seeing Markus with his new girlfriend, and how Elliott had consoled me. I saw the smile creep up onto Grandpa's face when I mentioned that I'd been skating, and he was more than stunned to know that I'd gone with Elliott to his sister's school show and met his parents while doing so.

Which brought me to now, and how Elliott had insisted we visit Santa in his grotto.

"Anyway," I say, trying to wrap it up. "Soon enough, Elliott will find out that I'm not Olivia Campbell, and he'll hate me for lying to him. I hate myself for lying to him because this has been the most fun I've had in a while. I know I'm emotionally wrecked and it might not seem like it, but I really have enjoyed my afternoon with Elliott. I mean, I know that it will only last this one night, but there's a part of me that kinda hoped that it would last longer. How selfish is that?"

"That's quite a story, young lady," Grandpa says, blowing out a long breath as he leans back in his chair and places his clasped hands on his bulging stomach. "The only advice I can give you is to be honest with this Elliott chap and hope that he understands. If he's as nice as you make him sound, I'm sure he will sympathize with your predicament. Honesty is the best policy, as your grandmother used to say."

"But-"

"No buts, my dear," Grandpa says, breezily moving his hands through the air to cut me off. "We do not make excuses." A double knock came at the door and Grandpa frowned at hearing the noise. "That's the one minute warning knock. Quickly, tell me what you want for Christmas and I'll promise you that you'll receive it."

"Can you wind back time?" I ask, hope filling my voice. Grandpa solemnly shakes his head at me. "In that case, I would very much like it if Elliott didn't hate me when he learns the truth."

"It's impossible to hate you, Peyton," Grandpa motions for me to lean in for a hug, which I duly do. Grandpa's hugs are always the best and there was no way that I was giving up on the chance of receiving one. "It'll all resolve itself in the end, darling. You can tell me all about it when I visit you over Christmas weekend."

Another knock came at the door that I'd entered through, while a secondary door opened within the grotto and a boy of about fifteen entered, dressed as an elf. He did kinda weirdly look like Will Ferrell from the movie, Elf, in his costume and I couldn't help but laugh at seeing him. The boy sighed at my reaction but motioned me to follow him nonetheless. I gave my grandfather a quick kiss on the cheek before I was shooed from the grotto and out through an exit door that led to the opposite side of the town hall to where the grotto entrance is situated.

I tiptoed to try and find Elliott, but I couldn't see him among the thick crowd of people. I studied the crowd carefully, but no matter how hard I looked to try and find Elliott, I couldn't see him at all. Panic rose within me as I started to think the worst, but the longer I dwelled on it, the more it seemed reasonable; of course Elliott would ditch me the first chance he got.

Maybe he figured out that I'd been lying to him and he no longer wanted to be around someone that couldn't tell him the truth. Maybe he'd seen someone that knew me and they told him that I wasn't Olivia Campbell. What if he's seen the real Olivia and he realized what an idiot he's been the last few hours hanging out with me when he could have been on a date with her?

A pain developed in my chest, the dull aching kind that didn't seem to want to go away. My insides felt hollow at the thought that Elliott had ditched me and tears began to sting my eyes. This feeling wasn't unusual to me; in fact, it was very familiar because it was the same hurt that I've been experiencing since Markus and I split up, although this time, it felt ten times worse.

I wiped away the stray tear that fell down my cheek and took in a short trembling breath. I could sense people starting to turn to watch me and I knew then that I had to get out of here. Wrapping my arms protectively around me, I hastily made my way to the exit of the town hall, bumping into several people as I rushed away. The door was only feet in front of me when I felt someone tug on my arm, their tight grasp pulling me back towards them.

"Peyton?"

iracl