Chapter Twenty-Five
Phoebe
SpencerandIarethe first ones to make it to the community center, which means we have first dibs on whatever supplies are available to us. We rush out of the truck and run inside like we’re a bunch of teenagers sneaking around after curfew and trying our best not to get caught.
We’ve talked about a few potential float ideas on the short drive over, and we’re narrowed it down to three options:
Whoville / The Grinch and Cindy-Lou-Who
Santa’s Elves
The Nutcracker and Ballerina
Depending on what we can find, we can make any of these ideas work. With Spencer’s handiness skills, my decorative and art skills—we’ve got this in the bag.
The weirdest part of all of this is that I don’t really care if we win anymore. I mean, I do, obviously. I’ve never won the crown and I’d love to win it, but it’s not my top priority any longer.
I’m having more fun putting these tasks together with Spencer than I think I’ve ever had with anyone. Sure, he’s nice to look at, and he’s got the ass of a Greek God.
But, getting to know this older, more sophisticated version of him has been such a treat.
Plus, I think I’m sort of in love with the guy…and I’m not sure when I should tell him.
I don’t want to ruin the comradeship we have had going on since being partnered together. Well, aside from our weird fight. Now that I know why he refused to tell me the truth about his and Piper’s kiss all those years ago, there’s this huge weight lifted off of my shoulders.
The tortured feelings I’ve had for Spencer aren’t torturous any longer.
They are endless, limitless—invading my every breath and living in all of my bones.
Being with Spencer is like finally coming up for air after gasping for breath for years. Every subtle brush of our bodies, accidental touch of our fingers, lingering gazes…make me feel alive. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m finally being seen by him.
He’s been telling me over and over that it’s always been me, but up until this morning, I didn’t fully believe him. Not until he rushed into the gymnasium and his eyes found mine. The look he gave me made me feel complete, and entirely his.
I look up at him as we browse all of the craft supplies that the community center has left over. It’s a lot more than I expected them to have, especially since I know the parade participants have been working on their floats over the last couple of weeks. Spencer’s eyebrows are knitted together in concentration as he rummages through dozens of plastic totes full of Christmas decorations. As I’m gazing at him, I notice a small cardboard structure hiding in the corner. It looks like a small house, a little bigger than a dog house would be, but it’s in need of some massive TLC. It’s totally one of those houses that kids can decorate and turn into their own little in-home shops…and it’s perfect.
I nudge Spencer and point at the small house.
“What if we scrap all our ideas, and make a gingerbread house? We could slap some paint on it, and use some of the white felt sheets on the roof, making it look like snow,” I gesture to the bins around us.
“And we can use some of these decorations, along with the ones at your house to make it look like the cutest little gingerbread house ever,” I say thoughtfully as I beam up at him. “What do you think?”
He brings his hand to his chin, lost in thought as he peers round the rest of the area. When he looks at me, I can see the excitement building in his eyes, and I know he’s on board. “Let’s freaking do it! I’ll grab the house, you get the white felt and let grab some of this garland. We can drop this stuff at home and run to Walmart and grab some spray paint and whatever else we think we might need.” His voice is full of enthusiasm and it makes me flush with happiness.
“We gotta hurry,” he says in a hushed tone, forcing me to lean in closer to him. “The enemy has arrived.” He gestures towards the door, and I see Phil and Kevin walk in.
We all freeze in place, then Phil and I break into a sprint, grabbing as much as we can before the other can snag it.
