Well, practically anything. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and this is, for sure, a desperate measure.
Or… is it? Maybe I’m only saying yes because I want to climb Parker like a tree and deal with the consequences later, but either way…
“Deal. Because I know there is absolutely no way that I will ever love this stupid holiday again or love being home….so, you’re on. Anything not to put on that stupid costume and be in that horrible play. I’m pretty sure Derick Michaels has worn it four years in a row, and I doubt it’s been washed since.”
Now this will be entertaining, because there’s no possible way I can lose. The odds are fully-stacked against Parker, and I can’t wait to revel in my win when I see him on that stage.
“What about you? What if you win, what do you get?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
“If I win, then you’re putting on the costume, and that’s enough for me, Little Scott.”
He grins and adds, “And no cheating. Anything’s fair game and you have to give it a real shot. I know when you’re bullshitting, so no funny business.”
“Deal.”
“A week from now, we’ll meet under the mistletoe at your dad’s annual Christmas party, and then we’ll see.”
There’s absolutely no way that Parker Grant and his ridiculous Christmas cheer will be rubbing off or on me. Ever. Which means that I can kiss the ridiculous elf costume and that stupid play goodbye.
Thank God.
“Game on, Dr. Grant.”