The timer ticks down, and the intensity in my chest rises.
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six.
My fingers fumble as I put the last piece in place.
The alarm beeps, and I jump.
“Times up,” Lacee says. “Hands off.”
I scoot away. “Same to you.”
“Baby, I’ve been done for twenty minutes.” The flirtatious tone of Lacee’s voice sends my stomach into a tailspin. “I’m just waiting on you.”
“Is that so?” I smile.
“Yep.”
“How about whoever wins between us gets to make the rules for this holiday season?”
“What do you mean?”
I lean back into my chair, smiling. “Well, last Christmas, we had our kissing through the holidays fling. The winner of today’s mission gets to decide what we’re doing this year. Maybe something like—”
“That’s it!” Derek says into my ear. “I would rather throw up in my mouth and swallow my vomit than sit here and listen to your weird competitive relationship banter. Over and out,” he says before I can respond.
“Whoops,” I say. “I forgot Derek was still patched in.”
“Me, too.” Lacee laughs. “Before Derek’s tantrum, I liked where your train of thought was headed. But maybe the loser should determine the rules this Christmas. I mean, the winner already gets all of the bragging rights and the glory.”
“That’s fine with me.” I stand.
“Meet you outside in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight…” She slowly counts down.
I grab everything I need and walk toward the door. When Lacee gets to number one, I swing it open the same time she does. She’s standing in the doorway across from me, holding a tray with this year’s gingerbread house on it. But it’s not really a gingerbread house. It’s a castle. She went all out with steeples made of upside-down ice cream cones and a cobblestone exterior from marbled hard candy chocolates. She really outdid herself, and the huge smile on her face tells me she knows it.
Her blue eyes sweep over my house. I made a gingerbread hotel. It’s much better than last year's pathetic attempt—thanks to Derek’s plans and measurements—but it’s not going to beat Lacee’s castle.
“Not bad.” She gloats with her eyes as if she knows I don’t stand a chance.
“Should we see what the judges think?”
“I’d love to.” She walks ahead of me down the hall at her parent’s house.
I round the corner. Lacee’s family is in the kitchen cleaning up their own gingerbread house mess, and Mary Bradshaw is in the recliner next to the tree. I guess her day out from the assisted living center is pretty tiring. Her eyes are closed, her body hunches over, and soft snores go in and out with each breath she takes.
Lacee holds her tray up for everyone to see. “I present to you a masterpiece.”
“Wow!” Gina softly claps. “Those look incredible.”
“They should look incredible.” Cassi laughs from her spot at the kitchen table. “They’ve only been locked in those rooms working against each other the last four hours.”
“What can I say?” Lacee raises her chin. “We take this assignment seriously.”
“Maybe a littletooserious.” Bruce chuckles as he clears away bowls of candy from the table.
Gina ushers us over to the kitchen island. “You can put your houses here next to the other finished ones.”
Bruce, Erika, and Cassi’s houses are lined up. They’re cute and Christmasy, but there’s no comparison to ours.
