He never got to finish his sentence because the server arrived with our meals and his mouth snapped shut. We ate in charged silence as we glared at each other, the atmosphere heavy with tension, and I chewed my burger savagely as annoyance simmered and bubbled up under my skin. A couple of times Cameron looked like he was about to say something but I deliberately ignored him, not interested in his excuses. Instead I gave my full attention to the basket of fries in front of me.
Once we were done and the check came, I snatched it up when he reached for it. “IsaidI’d get it,” I said, “unless youalsothink I’m the kind of lowlife who doesn’t tip.”
Cameron winced, and yeah, I was probably taking it a step too far. But did I mention my professional pride and the massive bruise it was sporting? That shithurt.
But he was determined to have his say, and when I set the folder back on the table, he reached out and grasped my wrist, his grip firmer than I would have expected. “I don’t think you’re a cheat, Finn,” he said, voice low and urgent. “I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry. It was a shitty thing to say.”
The genuine regret in his tone made me glance up, and he looked so stricken that I could feel my anger slipping away. Ofcoursehe didn’t think I was a cheat. If he had, I got the impression he simply would have beaten me about the head with the rulebook until I admitted it.
And the contest wasn’t even that big a deal.
Except apparently it was, to him. And judging from what I’d seen so far, to everyone else in town as well. Maybe Cameron wasn’t the only jerk sitting at this table. “And I overreacted.” I gave a rueful sigh. “Who knew that the perfect way to wind me up is to imply I’d cheat at a gingerbread house competition? I’m sorry too.”
Cameron’s face did something complicated. “I’ve seen your Insta. If anyone needs to cheat this year, it’s me. I’ll probably have to kneecap you if I’m gonna have any chance at winning.”
I snorted, and the tension that had been simmering under my skin eased. “You’ll never make a criminal mastermind. Now everyone here knows your plan!”
Cameron gave me a reluctant smile. “True. I’ll just have to come up with something else. And I really am sorry. Only I’ve been kind of rude to you up until now and couldn’t think of another reason you’d want to talk to me.”
Because you’re cute and I like you, and I’d hoped this could be something.
I didn’t say that, though. It was hardly the time with things still awkward between us. Cameron let go of my wrist but the echo of his touch burned against my skin, and I wondered if he’d ever hold my hand for real.
The waitress came by and scooped up the check, and I said, “I’ll see you around, Cameron. Thanks for sharing the table.” I stood and pulled my beanie on, then paused. “I’m going to check out the markets if you’re interested?”
For a split second he looked like he was considering it, but then he stood and shook his head. “I can’t. I have to get home and make some more cookies for the bake sale on Saturday. And I need to work on my contest entry. I heard there’s some stiff competition this year.”
I laughed, relieved that the awkwardness between us seemed to be gone. We ended up walking out shoulder to shoulder ontothe main street. He nodded at a blue Toyota RAV4 that was parked out front. “This is me.”
“I’ll watch out for it in case you decide to run me down,” I said.
Cameron actually laughed at that, and as I was walking away I heard him say, “Trust me, you’ll never see me coming.”
So hedidhave a sense of humor.
Colorful lights gleamed through the darkness from up at the community center and I walked the three blocks there quickly, my boots crunching on a thin layer of snow as the cold air bit at my lungs with every breath and an icy wind whipped around my ears, making them sting. By the time I reached the center, they were numb and my eyes were watering, and I decided I needed to invest in those hand-knitted beanies and scarves Cameron had mentioned, if they were any warmer than the ones I was currently wearing.
I made my way inside, following the families and clusters of people into a large open space that reminded me of a high school gym—if that high school gym had been vomited on by a tinsel monster. Glittering decorations hung from every available surface, and Christmas music played in the background, a soft undercurrent to the murmur of voices and the squeak of boot soles on the wood floor. There was row upon row of folding tables with fairy lights strung along the front, all covered in a variety of craft items, baked goods, and Christmas kitsch.
I was meandering up the first row of tables, taking everything in, when a voice called, “Finn! Finn Kelly!” When I looked up, Sherri was waving frantically from behind a table loaded up with quilted pot holders and embroidered dish towels. I went over and she beamed at me. “I laid everything down and nothing dripped!”
There was no world in which that sentence made any kind of sense, but now I had the added bonus of Sherri and the worddrippedtangled up together in my brain—and I could have done without that mental image, thank you very much. “Uh… what are we talking about exactly?”
“My gingerbread house!” she said, shoving at my arm. “I cut my panels and iced them while they were lying down, and it’s perfect!” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, perfect for me, anyway.”
“Oh, that’s great!” I said, relieved that I had some context. “If you want any more help, just let me know. I’d be happy to share some tips.”
“Really?” she said, gazing at me with something akin to worship. “Won’t that lessen your winning advantage?”
I shrugged. “It’s just a friendly contest. It’s not that big a deal, right?” I said, still holding on to the faint hope that it was only Cameron who thought so.
But Sherri let out a disbelieving laugh. “Oh, youarenew to the Hollow aren’t you? The competition is high stakes!”
“Yeah, I’m starting to get that,” I said. “I was just talking with Cameron, and when I asked what he was making, he kind of lost his mind. Accused me of trying to steal his ideas.”
Sherri bit her lip. “Cameron really is nice when you get to know him. It’s just that the competition makes him a little… unhinged.”
“Yeah, I got that,” I said dryly.
