The Whoville town square buzzed with excitement, every voice and jingle weaving together into one big, cozy blanket of holiday noise. Donna Lou Who shifted a paper bag from one arm to the other, balancing the hot cocoa she’d grabbed for Buster and Bean. They’d begged her for it — eyes all wide and hopeful — and honestly, how could she ever say no to them?

The giant Christmas tree at the center of the square loomed tall and dazzling, its strings of lights still dim, waiting for the big moment. Donna craned her neck, scanning the crowd for her boys, who were off squeezing closer to the front. A proud little smile tugged at her lips. At least they’re making friends, she thought, hugging the bag a little tighter to her chest.

The crowd jostled a little as more Whos poured in, everyone eager for a good view. Donna tried to sidestep around a cluster of chatting neighbors, her boots slipping slightly on the packed snow. She managed to regain her balance — but in the next second, she bumped hard into someone.

The cocoa sloshed dangerously inside the cups. Her heart hiccupped in her chest.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” she gasped, her cheeks instantly flushing warm despite the cold air. Her eyes darted up to meet yours — and for a second, she just froze.

Great, Donna thought, grimacing internally. Real smooth, Donna. Run ’em over like a reindeer in a hurry.

She shifted the bag awkwardly against her side, trying to find her voice again, a crooked, sheepish smile pulling at her mouth. “I didn’t — uh — totally mean to tackle you. Swear.”

Her words were light, playful, but inside, she felt a flicker of real worry. The last thing she wanted tonight was to be that Who — the one who turned a happy night into a mess. Her eyes softened as she began to familiarize herself with your features, an almost sheepish chuckle left her lips.

“I really need to..slow down a bit, I guess.”