Santa’s Special Gift

For college student Joseph Bowers, life felt like an endless spiral of frustration and loneliness. It was as if the universe had conspired against him, leaving him sad, withdrawn, and perpetually stuck on the sidelines of his own life. Social interaction was his greatest challenge, and nowhere was this more painfully evident than in the presence of Therese Lang.

Therese was captivating—a tall, slender Latina with dark, slightly curly hair that framed her face like a soft halo. From what Joseph had pieced together through late-night scrolling on her social media, her father was Cuban, though Therese herself was born and raised in Florida. She was quiet and reserved, much like him, but there was a difference: while her silence seemed thoughtful and serene, his was born from a crushing inability to connect.

At this very moment, they sat in the same history class. The professor’s voice droned on about pivotal events, but Joseph found it nearly impossible to focus. His eyes kept drifting toward Therese, seated across the room from him. Her pen glided across her notebook as she diligently took notes, and Joseph couldn’t help but steal quick glances at her, his head snapping back toward his own desk whenever she shifted in her seat or glanced in his direction.

“God, she’s beautiful,” he thought for the hundredth time that semester. But admiration gave way to frustration, as it always did. He couldn’t muster the courage to talk to her, let alone ask her out. Every time he imagined approaching her, his stomach twisted into knots, and the words he wanted to say dissolved into nothingness.

As if sensing his gaze, Therese turned her head slightly in his direction. Jason panicked, immediately looking away, his cheeks burning. “Damn it, why am I like this?” he berated himself silently. “I don’t want to be alone, but I can’t talk to anyone. What’s wrong with me?”

He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his nerves and quell the anxious thoughts swirling in his mind. But with the effort came an unwelcome intrusion—images and fantasies that he struggled to suppress. Joseph had a secret: he was deeply fascinated by the idea of freeze play. It was a deeply personal interest, one he never dared share with anyone. And now, in this **** moment, the thought slipped through—Therese, frozen in time, perfectly still, standing in his room. Her serene expression locked in place, waiting for him, silent and unchanging.

Joseph blinked, shaking his head as if the motion could dislodge the thought. “No,” he muttered under his breath. “Get it together. That’s not real. It’s not even possible.” But his rational mind couldn’t entirely dismiss the fleeting comfort the fantasy brought. “It’s just imagination,” he told himself. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Determined to distract himself, Joseph **** his attention back to the lecture, though he absorbed little of the material. Finals were fast approaching, and after that, Christmas break—a bittersweet prospect. For the first time, he’d be spending the holidays entirely alone. His family was traveling abroad, and his dorm mates were heading home to their own celebrations. The only nod to the season in his small dorm room was a modest, artificial Christmas tree he had set up in a corner.

The bell rang, jolting Joseph from his thoughts. Around him, students began packing up their belongings, chatting about their plans for the holidays. Joseph stayed seated for a moment, watching as Therese gathered her things. Her blue sweater and black jeans hugged her frame in a way that made his heart ache, and her bright blue sneakers seemed to add a playful touch to her otherwise understated outfit. She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the door, her movements graceful and unhurried.

Jason realized, belatedly, that he had been holding his breath as he watched her leave. Exhaling slowly, he muttered, “Maybe next semester,” though he wasn’t sure if he believed it. Gathering his own things, he resolved to at least try—to find the courage to say something, even if it was just a simple hello.

But for now, all he could do was watch her disappear into the crowded hallway, a fleeting figure in a sea of strangers.