Page 73 of Perfect Mess

Gary nodded. “Yeah. She thinks you’re the competition, you know.”

“The what?”

“Competition.”

“Competition for what.” Realization came in like an uppercut. “You mean she thinks I’m competing with her for YOU?” Gary’s sheepish grin confirmed the truth. The laugh shot out of me like a cannon. “She thinks …” I waggled my finger between us.

“I’m afraid so.”

I searched Gary’s face for any sign that he was joking, but from what I could tell, he was not.Karen thought I was after Gary???The idea was ridiculous. Ludicrous. Completely out of the realm of any conceivable possibility. I said, “Never in a million years.”

“Not in two million,” Gary agreed, shaking his head.

“Three million,” I added, driving home the point. A wooden stake through a vampire.

We could see the playground from where we were standing. While Ralph took turns pushing Cary and Kyle on the swings, Karen was going through her pre-race routine. Jogging in place. Deep breathing exercises. Jumping jacks.

“I think that’s why Karen is taking this race so seriously,” said Gary. “Like whoever wins this race will win my affections.”

“That’s insane,” I said.

“Insane, right? If I was going to hand out any affections, it wouldn’t be based on a race.”

“Oh, no?”

Gary shook his head.

I was genuinely curious, so I had to ask. “What would it be based on?”

“I’m thinking cage match.”

“Bare knuckle?”

“Is there any other way?”

I allowed myself a moment to indulge in the fantasy. The roar of the crowd. The glare of the lights. Blood. Sweat. Tears. I imagined punching. Throwing one fist and then another. Left, right, left, right. But it wasn’t Karen’s face I was imagining. It was Ashley’s.

“You’re smiling,” Gary said.

“I am?” I hadn’t realized I was smiling. “Can’t I smile?”

“Not like that, no.” Gary must have seen the bloodlust twinkling in my eyes. “You know,” Gary started. “When I saw you show up at little league practice, I thought.” His voice trailed off.

“You thought what?”

“I thought you were going to try to convince me to go on some sort of crazy scheme.”

“Crazy scheme?”

“Yes,” Gary said again, his face serious. “Crazy scheme.”

“My schemes are never crazy,” I replied. “Well, maybe a little crazy. What kind of crazy scheme?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Like, hey Gary, let’s go spelunking in this abandoned mine shaft. Janet’s really into caves.”

“That’s ridiculous. I don’t like enclosed spaces.”

“Or, hey Gary, Janet loves circus performers. Why don’t we dress you up as a clown and shoot you out of a cannon?”

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