“The winner of the apple bobbing challenge is the Pumpkin Prince! Which means we enter the last round with a tie!” He claps his hands together. “The final competition will begin at sunset.”
10
BLOSSOM
A tie.Damn it. I thought I could clinch my win, but now, we’re back on equal ground.
As the sun dips behind the horizon, anticipation of the final challenge grows to a palpable hum in the tipsy collection of witches and werewolves.
Ever since my loss at apple bobbing earlier, I’ve avoided Manny, not sure how to feel about the conclusion of this festival. These two days were supposed to be a lighthearted seasonal celebration. But with the bet, there’s so much more weighing on this outcome.
What happens if I win?
What happens if I lose?
One thing for sure is, I knowIwant to be the one making the big decisions in my life.
I should never had made that bet with Manny. Never have given him the possible power to demand I stay in Folk Haven. The wager never would have happened if I’d admitted an extremely obvious fact to myself.
I like having to kiss Manny good-bye every time I see him.
If only I’d acknowledged that, sometimes, when I visit town, I drag my feet while leaving to give him an extra moment or two to arrive. Because my lips crave the familiar warmth of his cheek, paired with the rich wine scent of his skin.
And my heart longs for a moment when I matter to him more than anyone else.
I could have kissed him good-bye for years and not minded. Not really. All the animosity I imbued those partings with had been born from frustration. From anger and upset that he never saw me as anything other than his friend’s little sister to tease.
“I’ve always wanted to be yours.”
That’s what he said. Is it the truth?
Anxiously, I fiddle with the ring on my middle finger and watch my father chatting with the mayor so I don’t stare at the wolf who hovers near my side. Close enough that I can feel the heat of his body.
“Will you still stay?”
I want to decide that on my own. For myself. But now, because I’ve played theI loathe Mannyrole with such dedication, I’m stuck on the verge of being forced to move back to Folk Haven based on my pride alone.
Would that be so bad? To live in this place again?
“Gather round, everybody!” Papa hollers, and voices hush as we all surround two stumps of wood with sheets draped over them.
With a dramatic flourish, Root Fernmore tugs away the white cloth, revealing …
Pumpkins.
Two of them. One for me and one for Manny.
“The final task is a carve off!” The glee is apparent in his voice. Nothing gets people more excited about visiting The Patch than the idea of pumpkin carving. “You’ll have to fashion animage that pleases our illustrious judge, Mayor Nightson.” My father waves the woman forward as he sets out a range of tools beside each gourd. “If you would be so kind, Mayor, please tell our contestants what image you would like them to carve into their pumpkins.”
Belinda shares a smile between Manny and me, then addresses the spectators. “As I’m sure everyone here knows, one of my greatest loves is this town.” Her focus returns to us. “What I would like for you both to carve today is what you most love about Folk Haven. I think that would be the perfect way to ring in this fall season.” She claps her hands together, the sound a punctuation on the challenge.
Goddess, it’s like the griffin can divine the turmoil in my heart. It’s obvious which way she would vote on stay versus leave.
“That’s a fantastic theme!” Papa slaps his thigh and grins wide. “Can’t wait to see what the pumpkin royalty come up with. You both have an hour, starting … now!”
The crowd cheers and calls out suggestions for the first few moments as Manny and I snatch up our gourds, but everyone soon refocuses on the booze and food. Folk Haven’s places and events they offer rattle in my head.
Lake Galen … Main Street … The Halloween Ball … the Gauntlet … Ramla University … Coffee & Claws … Local Brew … Marlin’s Marina … the Public Mythic Library …
