Page 88 of I Can't Help It

“Ya know, I would threaten to shove that pumpkin on your head, but I don’t think it would be big enough!”

“I’m going to make you both play the quiet game,” Maren says, helping Carter tape a robot stencil to the front of his pumpkin. “This is supposed to be a bonding experience.”

While Wyatt tries to defend himself, Ava’s focus is on me again. “So, what do you think the pumpkin guts are for?”

Who cares? I’m just glad she’s paying attention to me.

Yes, I know that makes me sound pathetic, but I’m okay with it.

“I honestly have no idea.” I toss one last handful of the orange, tangled strands into my bucket. “Carter said he learned how to make slime out of the stuff at school, so maybe they’re going to do something like that.”

However, about thirty minutes later (after everyone is done with their carvings), we find out what the pumpkin guts are for. A tug-of-war game that’s going to be played over a tarp filled with all those buckets of strings and seeds.

“Absolutely not,” Trista says, crossing her arms. “I’m not doing it.”

I don’t blame her. The thought of falling (no seasonal pun intended) into a pile of pumpkin guts doesn’t sound fun at all. Who came up with this idea, anyway?

“Please, Trissy?” Carter begs, and those big, blue eyes of his are working overtime. “Mommy is going to video for Bam and Boppy.”

Translation: Wyatt and Maren’s parents.

Carter called them that when he first started talking, and the nicknames stuck ever since then.

“Come on, Trissy,” Wyatt chimes in, “don’t be such a killjoy.”

Trista makes a frustrated sound, but then she smiles at Carter. “I will play tug-of-war. Only for you, kiddo.”

“Yay!” Carter cheers, jumping up and down. “It’ll be lots of fun!”

“And how about you?” Ava looks at me expectantly. “Are you going to join in?”

I resist the urge to touch her hand again, even if it would only be for a second. “Are you?”

Because if she is, then I 100% will.

Especially since Wyatt has already said he’s doing it.

“Who knows when I’ll have another chance to avoid a tarp filled with pumpkin guts?” she laughs, scooping her hair up into a ponytail. “So, yeah, I’m going to give it a try.”

“Me too.”

Unfortunately, though, we don’t get to pick our own teams.

Once there’s a total of fourteen people willing to participate, a different festival worker divides us into two teams. Trista and Carter are on the team as me.

Wyatt and Ava are not. They’re on the other team together.

Rules are being said, and I vaguely hear them, but I’m more worried about how close Wyatt is standing behind Ava. Why is he standing so close to her? There’s enough rope to go around. No one else is standing that close. He doesn’t need to be breathing down her neck. Why isn’t she telling him something about invading her space?

“Ready, set, GO!”

I wasn’t ready, but I tighten my grip on the rope and pull as hard as I can.

There’s a lot of laughing and grunting from both teams as everyone struggles to stay away from the tarp in between us. Oh yeah, and there’s whispering too.

I watch Wyatt as leans in and says something near Ava’s ear. To make things worse, she SMILES at whatever he tells her, and I can feel the rope slipping through my fingers. I don’t even bother trying to stop it from happening. If we lose, the game will be over. And once the game is over, Ava and Wyatt will be forced apart.

Their team gives one final tug, and I see the first few of our teammates jerk forward into the pile of pumpkin guts (including Trista). Then most of the kids from both teams proceed to throw themselves into the orange, stringy mess (including Carter).

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