Page 35 of Fall is Brewing

Even experts miss, I could hear my dad saying.

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks anyway.

I don’t miss. Losing is not in my vocabulary. Lady Alice… of course. We can’t grow them well around here in New England. They’re a west coast apple, primarily found in Washington state. But even so… I should have known. The sweetness had been more rounded. Less structured. I knew it. I knew braeburn was wrong and still chose that as my answer.

Beside me, Brooks lowers his board slowly.

He doesn’t curse. Doesn’t roll his eyes. He just nods once, almost imperceptibly and takes another bite of the Lady Alice apple, like he’s filing it away.

Then, looking at me, he smiles again. “What a great learning opportunity.”

I. Want. To. Smack. Him.

Learning was for undergrad. Today is for winning.

The scoreboard behind Marcy updates. We’re still tied of course, but something has shifted. The invincibility is gone.

This is no longer about flawless execution. It’s about who cracks first.

I lower my board, pulse quickening as he says, “At least we’re still tied.”

I lift my chin slightly. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” His mouth curves—barely. And for the first time since the competition started, I meet his smile with a teasing one of my own.

I don’t like losing, but even I can admit, it is fun to have a formidable opponent.

Marcy claps her hands together, positively glowing. “All right! Still tied! Let’s keep going!”

The blindfold drops back into place. Darkness returns. And this time, it feels heavier.

Because now I know what it feels like to be almost right.

And almost is never good enough.

CHAPTER 8

Willa

Ten more rounds pass and we’re still tied, with the only miss being the Lady Alice apple.

“Final round!” Marcy announces, like she’s about to unveil fireworks.

I slide my blindfold down again, sealing the world into velvet-dark uncertainty as I exhale slowly through my nose, grounding myself. One more before whatever madness comes next.

The slice is placed in my hand.

It’s firm. Dense. The skin is slightly thicker than Honeycrisp. I press my thumb gently into the flesh before lifting it to my mouth. The bite is sharp at first—clean acidity—but then the sweetness follows quickly behind it, honeyed and warm. Not floral. Not grassy. Not nostalgic-soft.

Layered.

Structured.

Balanced in a way that feels almost architectural.

My brain flips through varietals instinctively. It’s not Fuji. Not Gala… Too complex for that. It’s certainly not a honeybee. JonaGold?

I take another bite. The sweetness is richer. The acidity rounded, not piercing. A late-season apple that’s confident. Self-contained.