Even if my hormone-ridden peanut brain would love to read into every interaction we've ever had, and imagine he's been pining away for me too, my judgment is clearly not to be trusted here. It's time to move on.

Unfortunately, coveting is a hard condition to kick when you find yourself spending Christmas alone with him at his fancy house.

It's even harder when you throw in the storm of the century, a mountain of snow where the driveway should be, and learning your best friend's father isn't quite as disinterested as you thought he was.

Now, the one thing I know for sure, is this is a Christmas I'll never forget.