Page 23 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“How would you know? You didn’t look in a mirror.” Max shakes his head. “That was uncomfortable to witness.”
“Oh, fuck off. Like you could do better.”
“Is that a challenge?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Yeah…it is.”
“Fine.” He sticks his hands in his pockets, leans a little to the left, and pops an eyebrow and a smirk at the same time, flashing me some sort of movie star smile.
I try to look away, act disgusted, attempt to shield my eyes, but hell, it’s a great smile. Nice to look at.
Some might say a jolly fucking experience.
“I can see from your stare that you’re mesmerized.”
“Oh fuck off,” I scoff.
He chuckles for a few seconds and then rubs his palms together. “In all seriousness, man, this is a bad idea. You’re going to scare people more than inject them with holiday spirit. Hate to say it, but you’re not the jolliest. The…the town proprietors might ask you to leave the competition, and that will be more humiliating than anything.”
I shake my head. “No, you’re wrong. This feels right. This feels like it’s meant to be,” I say, feeling the high of this wonderful, yet terrible, idea.
“Okay, I can see that you’ve reached a manic state, so I’m going to let you live in it for a moment as I remind you exactly what’s involved in the competition.” He uses his fingers to tick off the different tasks. “The Eggnog Wars. Not sure you’ve ever made eggnog in your life.”
“I’ve drunk it.”
“Not a qualification, but okay. Then there’s Upcycle Christmas, the human diorama in front of the whole town, and you don’t do public scenes.”
“Nothing like getting out of my comfort zone to get the blood pumping.”
“The Fruitcake Festivus,” he says. “You hate fruitcake.”
“And this gives me the perfect opportunity to make it better,” I counter.
Max’s face shows he’s annoyed. “The light display…the candy cane making.”
I wave my hand at him in dismissal. “I was born to hang lights. Who do you think hangs them for the cul-de-sac? And candy cane making…well, that I’ll have to work around.”
“Okay,” Max says with a grin, looking like he has me on his next point. “The Christmas caroling. You really going to sing at the Caroling Café, put on a public performance? You don’t sing in front of other people, dickhead, unless it’s family.”
“I haven’t yet. But you’ve heard my voice—some might say it sounds like angels are whispering to you.”
“You are so full of shit,” Max scoffs. “Dude, this is not for you. You know it, I know it. This is going to end in tragedy.”
“It won’t.” I shake my head. “Do you know why?” I stare at my best friend, arms crossed, a Grinch-sized smile on my face.
“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like what you say next?”
“It’s not going to be a tragedy, because you’re going to enter the competition with me as my holly jolly sidekick.”
“No fucking way,” Max says. “No. Not happening. History has shown us that the holly jolly sidekick is the one who’s humiliated the most. That’s why there aren’t many in the competition.”
“How could I possibly humiliate you?” I ask. “You’re my lifeline in all of this—I’d never humiliate you.”
“I don’t believe you. You have that look in your eyes, the one that says you will win at all costs.”
“That’s right, I will win at all costs, which means I have no issue standing on a table at the Caroling Café and belting out ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Fucking Reindeer’ while you shower me with fake snow.”
“Pretty surefuckingisn’t in the title.”
