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A ringing bell in the distance catches my attention. “Carnival games?”
He stops near a tent and turns to me. “I can’t think of a better way to have a friendly competition.”
“Is there such a thing as far as we are concerned?”
“I suppose not.”
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“Whoever wins the most games is crowned the victor.”
“And what do we get if we win?”
He scratches his cheek. “I don’t plan on letting you win, so I doubt it’ll be much of an issue for you.”
I scoff. “Game on.”
Julian and I pick the tent closest to us, which happens to be one of my old favorites, the ring toss. He swaps a few singles for two sets of rings.
“Good luck.” He passes me the rings.
I roll my eyes and toss my first ring. It hits the side of the glass bottle before falling to the ground.
He goes next and tosses his ring in a way that comes off well-practiced with how it slides down the neck of the bottle perfectly.
My mouth drops open. “How did you get that on the first try?”
“Nico loves this game.”
My eyes narrow. “How many of these games have you played?”
“All of them.”
“You’re a cheat.” I shove his shoulder.
“Don’t be a sore loser.”
“I haven’t lostyet.”
“Emphasis onyet.”
I throw my next ring with a little more force this time. Unlike the last one, it hits the rim of the glass, although it never makes it around the bottle.
Closer.
Julian tosses his next two back-to-back, landing both of them like a show-off.
I turn to face him with a frown. “What do you want if you win?”
“WhenI win, I’ll let you know.”
Asshole.
Julian and I bounce between tents. Thankfully, he picks games that only require one good arm, although my relief is short-lived as he kicks my butt at the ring toss, the dunk tank, a milk-bottle knockdown game, and a shooting hoops game.
Much to his surprise, I win a game of Skee-Ball, balloon darts, shooting targets, and a match of cornhole.
After drinking some apple cider and snacking on a couple of Coney dogs, we arrive at the final competition with an even score.
