3/12- Giving- Mark My Words

Contemporary

The family never had much. That has to be stated, before you can understand this story. This is a story of how to give, when you don't even have enough for yourself.

For the last few years, it had been just Stanley and Dad. Even before Mum left three years ago, their wealth hadn't been plenty.

Now, at his school, a Secret Santa was being hosted. It's a great concept, in theory, but in Stanley's opinion it just adds stress to everyone's lives. He tried his best to back out, telling the teacher every excuse he could think of to be excluded. Except that he had no money. That would be taking eight steps back in his plan.

"I won't be there that day." He shrugged.

"You'll bring it early."

"My dad doesn't give consent—"

"This isn't a consent thing." That would have been a good time for Stanley to stop. But he still had excuses to exhaust.

"I don't have any time. It's incredible how I even have time to talk to you now."

"Stop making excuses and find the time. I'll even go easy on the homework for a day." Mr O'Connell's grin was cruel. Was this the time Stanley would give up his quest? Nope.

"Aw, shucks. It's grandma's funeral. I'm too heartbroken." He even added an unconvincing sniff.

"Which Grandma? The one who volunteers here every other week, or the one who works as a substitute teacher in the younger classes?"

"Yes?" Stanely answered hesitantly.

"You know it's disrespectful to say that, right? Go pick your person from the bowl."

Stanley approached the hero's box like one would greet a tiger: like their life was at risk. He closed his eyes, and dug around. Sorry to whoever I pick. Which paper feels the safest? How does a piece of paper even feel safe? Pulling out a slip, he squints just enough to read the name...

Chloe?

His gaze darts around, but Mr O'Connell is staring at him. There goes his hope of a name exchange. His huff of annoyance echoed throughout the classroom.

Of course he had to pick the 'rich girl'. The new girl. Probably the only person who hadn't yet suspected him of being broke. Well, that time was over.

What can you give to someone who has everything?

Nothing expensive, if you're Stanley.

So, right after school — meaning 3 weeks later, the night before he had to give the gift in, because he had procrastinated like it was his job — his journey led him to the one and only Poundland.

Don't be mistaken; there isn't just one Poundland. There just isn't another place quite like the Poundland franchise. A lack of judgment rolls through the store, each person as stingy or poor as the next.

As Stanley wanders through the aisles, he has to snap himself out of his own thoughts about ten times. There's no point in avoiding the task. His gaze drifts from anything to everything, finding soap (too rude), baskets (too random), energy drinks (too weird!) and much, much more.

Chloe could probably buy this whole store (which was a complete guess on Stanley's part, because he hasn't recently been checking the prices of stores), but he was dawdling with £5.47 in his pocket. Money he got from little jobs like doing others' homework, and finding 'lucky' pennies.

How about Smarties? She is sort of smart... but it's boring, and for some reason, there are only four-packs, which cost £3.68. The budget is too strict, even for that.

Ah! Shopping is the worst! It's just another person poking their nose where it doesn't belong, asking if you're ok, and laughing when it decides you're too poor for it. According to Stanley, that was him. Shopping laughs in your head all day, mocking. Well, only if you had to buy something.

He slumped against the wall, scowling at the dog food. "I'm definitely not choosing you."

Next to the dog food, in a very 'organised' order, were stickers. And next to those were Christmas cards.

Stanley had always thought of Christmas cards as stupid. His point being, they are far too overpriced for something that you have to just get through to get to the actual gift. And it's impossible to find a decent card design.

But this card was just £1, with cut-out layers, folding into a little Christmas wreath, within which was written a simple 'Merry Christmas' in gold cursive.

He practically ripped it off the shelf, getting a pack of stickers for another £1, some new pens for £2 and a pack of chocolate coins for £1.30.

Now he was out of pocket money until the new year, but this'll be worth it. And he can use the stickers and pens next year too. Actually, he needed new pens for class...

Never mind! He had work to do!

He spent the rest of the evening writing messages. And not just for Chloe, though she was the only one who got a fancy card. His best friend, dad, and teachers all got a folded piece of paper littered in stickers.

It took him two hours to get through them all. Everyone got a personalised message. Even if the gift wasn't special, the words will be.

He didn't know Chloe well, but he still racked his brain for any memories he shared with her.

Dear Chloe, 

Your smile lights up every room, and your willingness to give others time to express themselves is admirable. Every lesson we share, your silly and cheerful attitude lightens the load of listening to Mr O'Connell's droning.

Merry Christmas. I wish you all the best at this special time of year, and as we move into the new one. May all your wishes come true, and I hope you get everything you ask for.

All the best,

Your Secret Santa.

*

Stanley wasn't sure if he saw right, but as he was opening his slinky, Chloe was crying.But like mentioned, he might have just imagined her massive smile and the tears in her eyes.

Thank you for reading. I hope you got a little Christmas joy from this story. Here, for anyone who wants it, is the maintenance.

If you enjoyed this story, please, please, please (I can add a cherry if necessary) like, comment, rate and share. It really helps me out and allows others to see these (hopefully decent) stories. Thank you, and Merry Christmas.