Page 17 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

Chapter Eight

Olivia

“ A re you serious?” I shout, tossing my hands into the air as I get another wrong answer in trivia.

“Just let me answer the next one. I’m not about to lose to the group of golden girls,” Wren says next to me, squinting her eyes in disapproval.

We are at the Covewood Lounge, one of the two bars that are located in town, which sits just a few blocks from The Groovy Bean, on the main street that leads in and out of the town square.

In the warmer seasons, different types of ferns spill out from the window boxes that help to bring out the age of the building, covering up small cracks.

This is one of the most exquisite buildings in Covewood.

Inside, the walls are painted white with black accents and the whole building is decorated from top to bottom with plants.

There are plants hanging from the ceiling, plants over the light fixtures, and plants on the walls.

Of course, these are all wrapped in white Christmas lights during this time of the year .

As beautiful as this place is, I only come here for trivia nights.

My team, named The Grey Wolves , is made up of my dad, mom, big brother Jaxson, me, and now my big sister Wren. To say that we are competitive is an understatement. We’ve held the title for trivia champions three months in a row and are very proud of it.

I mouth, ‘ You’re going down, ’ to Edna, who’s the captain of our team nemesis, The Golden Quizzers .

With her is Ms. Johnson, who personally loathes me, Faye Grady, and Margaret Thurman.

Unfortunately, they’re kicking our butts at Christmas trivia.

Christmas . Trivia . Two of my favorite things together, and we’re losing somehow.

The host, Laura Remington, owner of Preloved Finds, says the next trivia question. “What Christmas-themed ballet premiered in Saint Petersburg, Russia in 1892?”

I slam my hand onto the buzzer so hard it has probably left an indentation.

Wren exhales in frustration, and I freeze as everyone in the bar stares at me, including Luke, who I notice a few tables over with his own team, waiting for my answer, but I don’t have one.

So I say the first thing that pops into my head, hoping it’s right.

“The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

Laura frowns, seeming apologetic as she says, “I’m sorry, but that is incorrect.”

Of course, Edna swoops in and hits her buzzer, announcing, “The Nutcracker,” and gives me a smug look as Laura announces the answer is correct. I’m contemplating sending her a cake later but in her least favorite flavor.

“Get it together, Liv!” Wren hisses next to me, elbowing me in the side.

“I’m trying!”

“Hush, you two. Concentrate,” Mom whisper-yells, and it feels like we're kids again, closing in on ourselves because she yelled at us .

Laura raises the microphone back to her lips, ready to announce the next question, and I try to concentrate. “What beloved Christmas song was recorded by Puerto Rican singer-songwriter José Feliciano in 1970?”

Jaxson hits his buzzer and quickly says, “Feliz Navidad.”

“Correct!” Laura shouts. “Point for The Grey Wolves.”

My family fist bumps each other and howls. Everyone but me. I’m still sulking over the fact that I’ve gotten four questions wrong. Four. It’s not okay, because we’re neck and neck with both The Golden Quizzers and Gryffindor.

I peek over at where Luke is sitting as he laughs at something Rick says.

His team is made up of several members of the Covewood Police Department, and they’re usually in last place.

It never seems to bother them if they win or lose.

They’re just here for fun. I wish I could be that way, but I, unfortunately, hate to lose.

Luke has always had this quiet, settled energy about him that I’ve envied.

My mind never seems to stop, even when I wish it would.

He must sense me staring because he turns and locks eyes with me, a playful smirk picking up the corners of his lips.

I want to smack it off his face. He knows how competitive I can be at trivia, so he most likely senses how I’m dying internally at not being in the lead.

“What’s the German name for the song known in English as ‘O Christmas Tree’?” Laura announces.

Team Gryffindor hits the buzzer first, shouting, “O Tannenbaum!”

“That’s correct. Point for Gryffindor. I’ll never get tired of saying that.” Laura laughs while my whole table lets out a miserable grunt.

“Seriously! Who would even know that?” I grumble and sink lower into my seat.

“Everyone but you, apparently,” Wren snaps, sinking her face into the palms of her hands.

Wren is part of the reason I’m so competitive.

Because of her goal-striving personality, she’s always been that sister who's good at everything she does. Whatever Wren wants out of life, she chases after it. I’ve always admired that quality about her.

In fact, she’s a huge reason as to why I started my own business.

It’s also why I feel like such a failure right now, because I hate letting her down.

The Golden Quizzers are announced as tonight’s winners.

Their big prize is gift cards for each of them from Preloved Finds.

Edna’s hips sway as she walks over to our table.

“Well, look who stole the winning streak this time.”

“You smell like a headache. Go away, please,” I reply, leaning my elbows onto the table and pressing my fingers into my temple.

“We’ll get you next time,” my dad announces, giving her a confident smile.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The overhead music picks back up, welcoming people to the small dance floor.

Mom glances over at Dad, and she looks so beautiful as her whole face lights up.

Her hair, the same color as Wren’s and mine, is cut in a short bob and frames her heart-shaped face.

The overhead lights enhance the pale color of her skin, making her freckles appear more prominently.

Wren and I look a lot like our mother, whereas Jaxson’s appearance takes after our dad.

Dad has curly blond hair that he keeps cut short, and I’ve always been jealous that I didn’t inherit his fairly tanned skin.

He wears a pair of round rimmed glasses that help to bring out the bright-blue color of his eyes.

He keeps what he calls “The Dad Stash” on his face, even though Wren and I beg him to shave it all the time.

The only thing different between Dad and Jaxson is the fact that Jaxson’s hair color is strawberry-blond, the perfect mixture of Mom’s and Dad’s. That, and he at least shaves his face, showing off his tanned freckled skin and bright-blue eyes that are also framed with glasses.

“Eric, I love this song. Let’s go dance.” Mom doesn’t even wait for him to respond before she grabs his hand and drags him toward the dance floor.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Jaxson announces, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and asking, “What’s that face for?”

I’m furious that I failed my team and am not afraid to admit that I’m a sore loser. I hate my own attitude sometimes. I’m not even sure why I’m so upset right now—just that I am.

“I’m just not feeling very automatic supersonic hypnotic funky fresh this evening,” I answer.

Wren snorts a laugh beside me. “No. You clearly are not. I figured if anyone could win at Christmas trivia, it would be you.”

“Well, I feel like the Grinch right now, so Bah-humbug!” I wrap my arms around myself and continue to pout.

My brother eyes me for a second as he runs a hand through his curls. “Actually, Scrooge is who says that.”

He winces when I smack him on the arm. “Trivia is over! Go home to your adorable wife.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see y'all later. Good luck with her,” he tells Wren before making his way through the bar, giving Luke a pat on the shoulder before leaving.

I turn in my seat to get a better view of the dance floor and search the growing crowd until I see my parents in the middle.

Their dance moves are super cringy, but I admire their carefree nature with each other.

I think what my parents have is worthy of a Hallmark movie.

It's the kind of love that I dream of having one day.

I want to find my someone who I can sit on the couch with in blissful, comfortable silence with something I've baked sitting on the coffee table and my feet tucked under his thigh. I want to share all my happy, sad, funny moments with him forever, but it’s beginning to feel like that will never happen for me.

“I heard something about you,” Wren sing-songs, downing the rest of her drink .

I turn and scowl at her. “Go hear it again, because I don’t care.”

She ignores my grumpiness and continues, “That you’re dating two guys?—”

“Wren! You’ve been back in town for, what, a month, and you’re already believing the gossip?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I didn’t say I believed it. Just that I heard it. Did you forget that I work at a coffee shop, where people love to ‘spill the tea’?” she chuckles. “Do you want it to be true, though?”

“No, of course not!” I snap before going into the details of the horrible date I had last week and what led to the rumor being spread.

Once I’m finished, Wren studies me curiously. “Huh,” is all she says.

“I’m done with dating. If you see me catching feelings for anyone, do me a favor and throw a brick at my head.”

Wren laughs, bumping her shoulder into mine, and her hair tickles my neck. We fall into a silence, and a familiar sadness is shared between us as we watch our parents dance together. We both want what they have.