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He crosses his arms. “Not a single one?”

“Nope.”

“Deal.”

I step on the yellow chalk–drawn circle designated for pumpkin tossing and juggle a single ring in one hand, playing with the weight of it. Light but a perfect circle, weight evenly distributed. The wind is stronger than a breeze, moving west every other second. I move it through my fingers, trying to pick out the best grip.

“I have never in my life seen anyone take ring toss this seriously,” Theo says in my ear.

“Pumpkin toss,” I correct, then throw my first ring toward the smallest pumpkin on the left side with the longest stem. I make it.

“Beginner’s luck,” Theo says.

I throw another, then another, and then my final ring. All of them land around the stems.

“No way,” Theo says, shooing me off the mark. “If it’s that easy, I can do it.”

“Double or nothing?” I pull out my new twenty, waving it in his face.

“Deal.”

Without thinking, he instantly shoots one off and makes the first. His face is filled with such smugness I roll my eyes, then laugh when he misses his next toss—then all the others.

“Congrats, miss,” the woman says, snickering at Theo standing there with his mouth open. “Take your pick of pumpkin.”

“The tiny one,” I say, picturing the stand by Vivi’s bed.

She hands it over and I bump Theo with my side. “I’ll take Venmo or cash.”

He reaches into his pocket. “How did you do that?”

I shrug. “Not the same at all, but I’m into archery. So much of it is knowing how weight, angle, and positioning can affect a release. Similar here. So forty percent skill, sixty percent luck?”

“You’re so cool,” he says, genuine awe taking over his defeat.

“Shut up,” I say, tearing my gaze away and feeling my face heat up again.

He grabs my hand. “Before you try to count this as our sole second activity, note the plural in ‘Play games at the festival.’ So it’s time to play as many as possible.”

Tiny nerves prick at the pit of my stomach. Admittedly, the short break helped clear up the drumming of a headache from hunching over my notes. But my watch has gone off seven times already, meaning I missed my designated time for the flash cards I made.

I can’t fall behind on my studying even more. I guess I can down my coffee energy drink cocktail, but the last time I did that, I’d drank it so many times in a row that I got sick the next morning and was almost late to class. No, it’s better to do extra studying during the day.

“Anybody in there?” Theo snaps his fingers in my face, breaking me from my thoughts.

I push his hands away. “I’m here. Against my will, though.”

“Next up,” he says, ignoring my jab, “bobbing for apples.”

“I am not sticking my face in some unsanitary, saliva-filled, infested, moldy bucket.” I pull a face. The thought alone is enough to make me gag.

“Shush.”

He leads us to the apple bobbing; I do not participate. Theo does, and wins, earning himself a bucket of cookies. “Look what I got!” he tells me triumphantly, shaking the bucket in the air.

“At what cost?” I say to him, and give him a stick of gum.

We play an oversize game of Jenga, building a tower taller than me, and I’m the one who knocks it down. “How’s your foot?” I ask him when the final one lands on his toes.