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But that was ridiculous. We were just friends, and better for it. His brow cleared and he pulled his arms from mine, letting them fall to his sides. I cleared my throat. “Okay,” I said. My voice came out a little rusty. “Where to next?”

20

By the time we’d wound our way down to Union Square and snapped a picture of us with the giant menorah—our “something Hanukkah” that made us feel so included—the sun was beginning to set. We’d stopped briefly for some candied nuts and hot chocolate from a street vendor for a snack, and the sugar was now coursing through my body.

“I can’t believe we missed the Santa skeleton,” I said, bouncing a little on my toes. We were one of the last groups there, so it wasn’t like we’d sped through the city and that was why we hadn’t found it. “Maybe we should go back out.”

“We are not going back out to search,” Seth said, scrolling through his phone. Since Times Square, he’d done an impressive job of not looking me in the eye even once. Even when the two of us had to stand next to each other and fake happiness in front of a gingerbread house display. “Nine out of ten is respectable. Even if we don’t win, we—”

“Only one of the other groups found the Santa skeleton so far, and they didn’t get the nutcracker,” Kylie reported, also scrolling through her phone. “So we’re still in the running.”

That was enough to keep my heels on the ground until Dan showed up with his Santa hat on, mug of grog in his hand, the swagger in his step making me confident that mug wasn’t his first. “Salutations and congratulations to Mike, Lizzy, and Freya!” he announced. “You’ve won this Christmas grab bag of fun!”

My shoulders sagged as the winning trio cheered and claimed their grab bag of fun, which seemed to mostly consist of candy. It wasn’t even like I had a huge sweet tooth, but I wanted the winning title. “Well. I guess we tried. Even if we lost.”

“We did more than try. We did great,” Seth said, eyes trained somewhere over my shoulder even as he spoke directly to me. “We got to see so much cool stuff that we wouldn’t normally have seen.”

True, we probably otherwise wouldn’t have checked out the nutcracker display. I’d most likely have nightmares about them tonight, an army of them marching forward on their stiff legs to crack my toes between their creepy wooden jaws.

Besides, how could I not think about this in terms of winning and losing? It was a competition. One team winning meant another team lost. Like in life. People talked a big game about things being fair and a rising tide lifting all boats and whatever, but most things were really just winner-take-all.

“Candy?” Freya popped up with a handful, her rosy cheeks bunched high in a smile.

I really didn’t need any more sugar, but this candy probably tasted like winning. “Sure.”

I popped the Skittles into my mouth and chewed. Through them, I asked her, “Where did you guys find the Santa skeleton?”

“That was a tough one, wasn’t it?” Freya said brightly. She offered some candy to Seth, but he waved it away, eyes trained on his phone. It was buzzing. He stepped away and held it to his ear. “It was kind of hidden down this side street on this goth bar with bats hanging from the…”

As she kept telling me about the location, I trained my ears on Seth. “Hi, Mom,” he’d answered. “Yeah, we’re just finishing up. What…” And then he was quiet for long pauses, punctuated occasionally with yeses or nos, I don’t knows and I don’t think sos. What was Bev telling him?

Maybe she’d found out. About us. I had no idea how she’d done so, but my mind concocted a scenario where she found Seth’s diary—because of course someone like Seth would keep a diary, and he probably wouldn’t bother locking it—and read with increasing horror about our whole plan. She was telling him now that I was a dirty rotten liar and not to even bother bringing me home because if she saw my face again she was going to smash a freshly baked pie in it and she didn’t want to waste a perfectly good pie on me and—

“Abby?” He’d hung up. He was finally looking me in the eye, but from his worried expression, I assumed the worst.

Well, it wasn’t like I’d brought that much stuff with me. Surely, he could pack it up himself and bring it down to the—

He was talking. I was missing it. “…almost forgot about the Eighth Night Ball,” he was saying. I blinked. Right. The big romantic spectacle on the final night of Hanukkah Bev had already bought us tickets to. “She called up her favorite local boutique and got you in just in time for a fitting in an hour, but the hangover hit her hard and she doesn’t think she can go with you.”

Well. I hadn’t expected that. “Okay. I don’t mind going by myself.”

Or. My eyes settled on Freya. We were friends, right? Or becoming friends? Spending time together one-on-one was how you became better friends. Except maybe she wasn’t interested in becoming friends, and she’d make a face and send my heart plummeting.

Seth was saying, “I’ll go with you if you want,” but he sounded a little like he was volunteering to get his teeth cleaned by a butcher who was considering becoming a dentist.

After tomorrow I’d have no reason to see Freya again, right? So any embarrassment from her saying no only had to last as long as tomorrow. Maybe I could take a tiny leap of faith. Give friendship a shot.

“Hey, Freya,” I said. I swallowed my Skittles in a hard, sticky lump. “Any chance you’re free after this? And that you like shopping? I’m going to get a gown for the Eighth Night Ball, and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I love shopping.” That made one of us. She beamed at me. “Of course. Where are we going?”

Her face lit up even more when I shared the name of the designer, who I didn’t recognize. “Ooh, that’s some fancy stuff. I have a few things of hers, but they were lucky thrift store finds.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t realize.” Nervousness fluttered in my stomach. Maybe if I were Seth’s real girlfriend I wouldn’t mind Bev buying me something fancy and expensive, but being a fake girlfriend? This was basically fraud.

But I couldn’t refuse. I already knew Bev well enough to understand that she’d take it as a personal insult. And maybe they’d have a clearance rack I could choose something from. Or I could leave the tags on so Bev could return it once I was gone.

I jumped when Seth touched me gently on the shoulder. “I see you panicking,” he murmured. “Don’t. My parents can easily afford it, and it makes my mom happy to do things like this for people.”