My Christmas Star ( A Santa Clause Story Ft Bernard x OC)

Chapter 6: Career Day

Charlie and I were back at school now, which meant that I was back at mom and Neal's. I didn't necessarily like it but, I felt like I needed to be there more for Charlie then myself. I decided to take my lunch break off to go to Charlie's school for Career Day. Both Neal and Dad were there alone with my mom.
"Stella, you made it!" Charlie said excitedly as he came up to me and hugged me.
"Of course I did. I couldn't miss out on Career Day," I said as I ruffled Charlie's hair. I sat down at an empty desk next to Charlie as a fireman talked to the class. Unfortunately he didn't understand boundaries or what going too far meant.
"--So, remember, kids, there is nothing more painful than third degree burns," Fireman O'Hara said to the class. I looked around and all the kids' had expressionless looks on their faces.
"Well, thank you, Fireman O'Hara. And I think the whole class will join me in saying...sorry about your partner," Charlie's teacher said to the fireman. "Well, perhaps this is a good time to bring up the psychiatrist. Charlie, would you like to introduce your, um--Dr Miller?" the teacher stammered with a nervous chuckle. Charlie got up and went to Neal.
"Can I ask Dad to go first?" Charlie asked Neal.
"Well, if that's how you feel, Charlie," Neal said to Charlie. My dad grabbed the doll he brought to show to the kids and leaned forward.
"That's how he feels, Neal. Come on. Nice sweater, buddy," Dad said to Neal before he made his way to the front of the classroom.
"This is my dad, Scott Calvin. He's got a really neat job," Charlie introduced.
"Thank you, Charlie," my dad said as he faced the class.
"My dad is Santa Claus," Charlie said. The class burst into laughter and I face-palmed.
"Oh, boy! I think what he means is, I'm like Santa Claus," my dad corrected as he tried to gain control of his audience. "We're both giving. We're both jolly. And we both work very hard one day a year," my dad said before he laughed to himself. "Oh, boy."
"That's not what I mean, dad. Look, on Christmas Eve, my dad pushed Santa off the roof–"
"--No, Charlie-- Ch-- Charli"
"--Santa disappeared and my dad took his place." Charlie made his way to his backpack
"--Charlie!"
"Then I went with him and my sister to deliver all the presents," Charlie took out the snow globe he got from Bernard. "Then the reindeer flew us to the North Pole where the head elf–"
"--Charlie–"
"--Bernard, gave me this," Charlie pointed to the snow globe to show it off.
"Look, I work for a toy company. I deliver toys all over the country. So, in a way, I'm like Santa Claus," Dad corrected as he faced Charlie to try and correct him once more. A girl in the front raised her hand.
"Yes, sweetheart," my dad called on her.
"Do you make the toys?" the girl asked.
"No, stupid, the elves do!" A rude boy with red hair and freckles interjected.
"Bobby, we don't say "stupid," and we don't say "elves." They're little people," Charlie's teacher corrected the boy. I rolled my eyes at his teacher. She was too sensitive for my taste.
"No, but they really are elves," Charlie said.
"Whatever, honey," Charlie's teacher dismissed. I squinted my eyes at her before I looked back over to my brother.
"No, really. My sister is becoming an elf," Charlie said. The class burst out into laughter and some of them turned around to face me.
"Oh, really? Then where are her pointy ears?" Bobby asked.
"They haven't grown in, yet," I simply replied before I stuck my tongue out at the boy.
"Oh, yeah? When will they grow in?" Bobby asked.
"Within the next few months," I replied, crossing my arms.
"Oh, yeah? Well, what's your favorite reindeer?" Bobby asked as he looked from me to Charlie.
"Comet," Charlie and I said in unison.
"Uh, l, l, I don't have a favorite," Dad said as he wiped the sweat from his forehead on his Do-It-All-For-You Dolly.
"So, let me get this straight, Santa. You mean, when I grow up, if I wanna be Santa Claus, all I gotta do is push you off a roof?" Bobby asked. 

And that was the end of that. My dad, my mother, Neal and I had to go to the principal's office, which meant I was going to be late for class.
"All right, he said that. He said that it was the best Christmas he ever had," my dad argued to my mom.
"Oh, big surprise. What do you think?" my mom argued as we all took a seat.
"It's just nice to hear it from him. Is that a problem with you?" my dad asked.
"That's my responsibility, isn't it?" my mom said.
"All right," the principal said as she quieted my mom and dad down. "So?"
"May I speak, please? I am a doctor," Neal said in a bragging tone.
"No, he's not. He's a psychiatrist," my dad corrected before he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, which caused me to snicker.