Page 27 of Perfectly Complicated
Janie shifts on her feet now, glancing between the judge and me.
The judge gives me a warm smile. “I can’t believe it. Can I have your autograph? My husband will be so impressed that I met you.”
“Absolutely.” She hands me a piece of paper to sign.
I scribble my signature and hand it back to her.
Janie’s lips flatten into a tight line. “But what about who won?”
The judge blinks at her like she forgot she was even there. “Oh, that’s right. Youdidknow that this was a couples’ event, right? And the two of you built a neighborhood instead of a single home.”
Janie and I look at each other blankly.
“I thought we were competingagainsteach other,” Janie protests.
“No, sorry.” The judge shakes her head. “But I like the way you captured a slice of Americana.” She glances at her score sheet. “The good news is because you nailed both the creative and the technical aspects, you two have the highest score.”
“Wait, what?” Janie asks, dumbfounded.
“We won,” I say, then laugh.
“No, that’s not possible.” She shakes her head. “There can only be one winner, because that person gets to pick the next activity. Can’t you tell me who won between the two of us?”
The judge rubs her chin as she studies our creations. “Well, if I only had to pickone, I’d give the award to him.” She points to my truly horrible, leaning perilously to the side, mobile home.
“We’ve never had a Christmas trailer before. Very creative,” she says, picking up the paper that I signed. “And thanks for the autograph.”
Janie’s face falls as the sudden thrill of victory spikes in my chest.
“You’re kidding, right?” she protests. “Didn’t you see my picket fence made of tiny frosted toothpicks? My stained glass windows of colored candies?”
The judge nods absently before turning back to me. “I can’t wait to see your next game. Go Crushers!” She waves the paper with my autograph before leaving.
Before I can think better of it, I pump my fist in the air. “HA! I BEAT JANIE BENNETT!”
Everyone in the place shifts toward me, and for one moment, pride swells in my chest.
Until I see Janie’s expression. There’s utter disappointment in her eyes and her expression is flat.
And just like that, the feeling of triumph in my chest deflates like a popped balloon.
Her shoulders slump and she’s staring at her perfect gingerbread house like all her careful work, all her Christmas magic just got crushed by a guy who doesn’t even care about the competition.
And she’s not wrong. I don’t care about gingerbread houses.
But I care abouther—which is becoming a seriousproblem.
I miss her smile. Her taunts. The jut of her stubborn chin. The way her lips purse when she challenges me, silently begging me to kiss them.
But the devastation on her face right now? I’d rather lose a hundred bets than see that look again.
Without a word, she turns her back to me and begins cleaning up.
“Janie.”
She whirls around, pointing at me. “Don’t youdarerub it in.”
“I thought we were having fun. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad.”
