The next day, Juniper sat at her desk glaring at her monitor as if sheer willpower could conjure up a legitimate excuse to bail on the assignment. She had just turned in the draft of her first article about the round of speed dating she had endured the night before.

Snowflakes and Soulmates. Just saying it in her head made her cringe.

The problem was that Max wasn’t wrong. These “fluff pieces” performed well, and despite her aspirations for more hard-hitting journalism, Juniper couldn’t deny that her last feel-good feature on therapy dogs had quadrupled the traffic of her investigative report on city zoning laws. She couldn’t fight analytics.

Still, this was a whole new level of indignity. Not only did she have to endure a series of blind dates with Christmas-obsessed strangers, but now she had to drag along a photographer whose unrelenting cheer was as exhausting as it was charming.

Juniper’s laptop chimed softly, the notification icon glowing in the corner of the screen. She clicked it with a sigh, watching as the email popped up. Her mouth twisting into a frown as she read.

Subject: Your Snowflakes and Soulmates Schedule Hi Juniper, thanks for agreeing to be a part of this and giving us some much needed exposure!

Here are the matches and activities we’ve set up for you. We think these will give you a fantastic range of experiences to write about. Have fun!

Below the note was the list, each date paired with an activity. Juniper skimmed over cookie decorating, Christmas karaoke, and something ominously labeled “Santa’s Winter Wonderland Adventure.” But her focus snagged on the first entry:

Date One: Todd S. Activity: Ugly Christmas Sweater Contest at Jolly’s Bar & Grill

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

“What’s up?” Eve asked, leaning casually on the edge of Juniper’s desk. She had an uncanny knack for showing up at the exact moment Juniper wished to avoid human interaction.

Juniper sighed and tilted her screen so Eve could see. “This is my life now. Ugly sweater contests.”

Eve’s eyes lit up with delight. “Oh, this is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see what Todd’s sweater looks like.”

Juniper swiveled her chair to face Eve fully. “Please tell me this isn’t normal. People don’t actually compete over this stuff, right?”

“It’s a thing,” Eve replied, grinning. “My old college roommate used to hand-sew her entries. She once turned an old sweater into a Christmas village with tiny light-up houses and a working train that traveled around her midsection.”

Juniper blinked. “That’s horrifying.”

“It was beautiful,” Eve said wistfully, clearly immune to Juniper’s disdain.

Juniper groaned, rubbing her temples. “This is going to be a disaster. I don’t even own an ugly sweater.”

“Well, lucky for you, I come prepared.” Eve stood up suddenly, her grin widening. “Wait here.”

Juniper frowned as Eve disappeared out the door. “Where are you—”

Almost before Juniper could finish, Eve returned, holding a plastic bag triumphantly in one hand.

“Ta-da!” Eve exclaimed, pulling out a sweater that was simultaneously offensive and impressive. The fabric was an eye-searing red, covered in felt ornaments, a sequined tree, and blinking LED lights.

Juniper stared at it, horrified. “You just…carry that around with you?”

Eve shrugged, unbothered. “It’s my emergency holiday sweater. You never know when you’ll need one.”

“I’m not wearing that,” Juniper said flatly.

“You’ll fit right in,” Eve countered, holding it out. “Besides, it’ll be less embarrassing than showing up to an ugly sweater contest without a sweater. That’s like going to a costume party in jeans.”

Juniper glared at the monstrosity for another moment before snatching it out of Eve’s hands. “You owe me for this.”

“I’m documenting history,” Eve replied, raising her camera with a mock-serious expression. “Now let’s get moving. Todd and his sweater are waiting for their big debut.”

“I can’t believe this is my life,” Juniper muttered as she followed Eve out the door, the ridiculous sweater clutched in her hands.

❄ ❆ ❅ · · ~------~ · · ❅ ❆ ❄

Jolly’s Bar & Grill lived up to its name, so much so that Juniper wondered what it was like the rest of the year. As Juniper pushed open the door, she was hit with a wave of holiday cheer so overwhelming it felt almost aggressive. Strings of twinkling lights crisscrossed the ceiling, oversized ornaments hung from the walls, and a life-sized inflatable Santa jiggled in the corner near the dartboard, which really seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

Juniper adjusted the hideous sweater Eve had insisted she wear, which now blinked obnoxiously in time with a tinny version of “Jingle Bells” playing over the speakers. “This is my personal hell,” she muttered.

“Come on,” Eve said, snapping a quick photo of the scene. “It’s festive! You’ll look back on this night and smile.”

“I’m already smiling on the inside,” Juniper deadpanned.

Eve smirked, nudging her toward the far side of the room where a group of contestants stood, proudly displaying their sartorial crimes against humanity. At the center of the group was Todd, and there was no mistaking him.

Juniper stopped short, staring at the man wearing what could only be described as a Christmas explosion. His sweater was a riot of bright green and red with a three-dimensional nativity scene across the chest. Tiny figurines of Mary and Joseph were sewn into the sweater, baby Jesus was resting inside a felt manger, and a battery-operated star that blinked erratically completed the look.

“Please tell me that’s not Todd,” Juniper whispered to Eve.

“That’s Todd,” Eve confirmed, grinning as she raised her camera. “And his masterpiece.”

“Of course it is,” Juniper muttered, plastering on what she hoped resembled a friendly smile as they approached.

Todd spotted them immediately, his face lighting up. “Juniper! Hi!” he said, bounding over like an overexcited golden retriever.

Juniper extended a hand, which Todd ignored in favor of a big, enthusiastic hug. She stiffened, her brain scrambling to process the fact that her date had just crushed her against a nativity scene.

“Wow, I love your sweater!” Todd said, stepping back and gesturing to her blinking monstrosity.

Juniper forced a smile, throwing a pointed glance at Eve. “Thanks. It’s, uh, borrowed.”

“Looks great on you!” Todd said earnestly. “I knew tonight would be fun. Ugly sweater contests are kind of my thing. I actually won this one last year.”

“Shocking,” Juniper said, her tone dry enough to fly over Todd’s head entirely.

Todd beamed, clearly taking her sarcasm as encouragement. “I was going to retire the nativity sweater this year, but people begged me to bring it back. It’s a crowd favorite.”

“It’s…very unique,” Juniper managed, glancing at Eve, who was busily taking candid shots of the scene.

Todd leaned in conspiratorially. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure,” Juniper said cautiously.

“The star blinks faster if you clap,” Todd said, demonstrating with a series of quick claps. The tiny star on his sweater began blinking furiously, nearly giving Juniper a seizure.

“Impressive,” she said weakly.

“Right? Wait until you see it during the contest. I’ve got moves planned,” Todd said with a wink.

“I can’t wait,” Juniper replied, wishing she were literally anywhere else.

“Good,” Todd replied, “Because I’ve got some exciting news!”

Eve narrowed her eyes, already suspicious. “Todd, what did you do?”

“Nothing major,” he said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I went ahead and entered us both in the ugly sweater contest before you got here. I just knew you would be wearing a great sweater when you showed up!”

Eve groaned, setting the tray down with a clatter. “You what?”

“Relax!” Todd said, still grinning. “We’ve got this in the bag. That sweater you’re wearing? Chef’s kiss. Instant contender.”

Eve rejoined them, her camera slung over her shoulder. “You two ready for the contest? Looks like it’s starting soon.”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Juniper muttered.

Todd clapped his hands again, causing the star to go wild. “Let’s do this!”

As Todd bounded off to join the other contestants, Juniper turned to Eve. “Please tell me you have an exit strategy in case this goes south.”

Eve grinned. “Nope. But I do have a front-row seat!”

Juniper sighed, adjusting her blinking sweater again. “I’m going to need a raise after this.”

Juniper soon found herself standing in the middle of Jolly’s main floor, shoulder-to-shoulder with Todd and eight other contestants, each wearing sweaters more absurd than the last. One woman’s sweater featured a felt fireplace with actual mini stockings dangling from it. Another contestant had turned themselves into a walking Christmas tree, complete with tinsel and real pinecones.

“Wow,” Juniper said under her breath, surveying the competition. “I’m underdressed.”

“You’re doing great,” Eve whispered from her spot stage left, camera poised and ready.

“Sure,” Juniper muttered, glaring at the blinking lights on her borrowed sweater. “I feel great.”

The event coordinator—a short man in a Santa hat and glasses—clapped his hands for attention. “Welcome, everyone, to the Jolly’s Annual Ugly Sweater Contest!” he bellowed. The room erupted in cheers and applause.

Juniper glanced at Todd, who was already clapping so enthusiastically that his star was blinking like a disco strobe. She wondered if she could slip out unnoticed.

“The rules are simple,” the coordinator continued. “Each contestant will have thirty seconds to show off their sweater. Creativity counts, so don’t hold back! The audience will vote for their favorite, and the winner takes home a $50 bar tab and eternal glory!”

“Eternal glory,” Juniper mumbled sarcastically. “Good to know this is high stakes.”

Todd leaned over, grinning. “I’m gonna blow them away. You ready?”

“Absolutely not,” Juniper replied, but Todd didn’t seem to notice.

The first contestant—a man in a sweater covered in glittering snowflakes—stepped forward and spun dramatically in a circle. The crowd cheered, and Juniper bit back a laugh.

One by one, the other contestants took their turns, each more ridiculous than the last. The woman with the fireplace sweater pretended to roast marshmallows over the felt flames, earning a loud round of applause.

Then it was Todd’s turn. He practically leapt into the spotlight, clapping his hands to set his star blinking wildly. He struck a series of exaggerated poses—hands on hips, jazz hands, even a spin that ended with him pointing directly at the nativity scene on his chest.

“Behold the magic of Christmas!” Todd declared dramatically.

The audience whooped and hollered. Juniper caught Eve out of the corner of her eye, snapping photos with an expression that said she was trying very hard not to laugh.

Finally, it was Juniper’s turn.

She shuffled forward reluctantly, the blinking lights on her sweater casting an unflattering glow on her face. The crowd clapped politely, though their enthusiasm was clearly waning after Todd’s high-energy performance.

“Uh…ta-da?” Juniper said, raising her hands halfheartedly.

Eve’s camera clicked, and Juniper shot her a glare.

“Woo! Go, Juniper!” Todd shouted, clapping loudly enough to get his star blinking again.

The crowd gave a smattering of chuckles, but the applause was minimal. Juniper shrugged and turned to head back to her spot when she heard a voice call out from the audience.

“Dance!”

Juniper froze. “No.”

“Do it!” someone else yelled.

The room picked up the chant, and Juniper’s cheeks burned. She turned to Eve, who gave her an encouraging thumbs-up.

“No way,” Juniper mouthed, but Eve just grinned and mouthed back, “You’ve got this.”

With no graceful way to escape, Juniper sighed and shuffled awkwardly in place, her movements stilted and halfhearted. The crowd cheered louder, clearly entertained by her discomfort.

Todd joined in, clapping in rhythm to her reluctant dance, and Juniper could feel the lights on her sweater blinking in time with her humiliation.

When her thirty seconds were finally up, she retreated to her spot with as much dignity as she could muster.

“Well done!” the coordinator said, beaming. “Let’s give a big round of applause for all our contestants!”

The crowd cheered, and Juniper caught Eve’s eye. She was grinning so widely that Juniper couldn’t decide whether to laugh or throttle her.

“You were amazing,” she said when returning to her spot by the bar.

“I’m going to need therapy after this,” Juniper replied, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at her forehead.

Eve laughed, raising her camera. “But at least you’re making great memories, right?”

Juniper groaned. “Sure. Let’s call it that.”

It wasn’t long before the host shouted for everyone’s attention again. “This year’s winner has been decided,” he said, his voice full of all the grandeur expected of a master of ceremonies at such a prestigious event, “And the winner is: Todd!”

Todd sprinted up to the host as the crowd erupted into laughter and cheers. The host handed Todd a small golden trophy shaped like a sweater. Todd raised it high above his head, the lights catching the glittery nativity scene stretched across his chest.

“Victory!” Todd shouted, grinning ear to ear. “I’d like to thank my impeccable taste in sweaters and—” He turned, pointing at Juniper before continuing, “—my lovely date!”

Juniper nearly spit out her drink.

As Todd made his way back to the bar, still basking in the crowd’s cheers and chatting animatedly with anyone who would listen about the craftsmanship of his nativity scene, Eve elbowed her. “Chin up. At least he didn’t say girlfriend.”

Before Juniper could reply, Todd was back.

“I won!” he shouted, setting his trophy on the bar and taking Juniper in for another non-consensual hug.

“You did,” Juniper agreed, trying not to sound unenthusiastic.

“Hey does your star react to your clapping?” a voice asked from behind them.

Todd released Juniper from the embrace and turned sharply, clapping his hands together to show off his sweater, but the sudden movement knocked the trophy over into Juniper’s drink. She didn’t have any time to react before the drink splashed down, soaking the front of her sweater and dripping onto her jeans.

“Oh no!” Todd exclaimed, his eyes wide with horror as the trophy clattered to the floor. “Juniper, I am so sorry!”

Juniper froze, blinking at the cider dripping from her eyes. She let out a long, controlled breath, her lips tightening. “Todd. Do you know how hard it is to get cider out of wool?”

“It’s not even your sweater,” Eve mumbled.

Todd scrambled for napkins, his face a mix of panic and mortification. “I’ll fix this! I’ll—oh no, that’s spreading. Okay, no napkins—uh, dry cleaning!”

Juniper raised a hand to stop him, her voice sharp but amused. “Todd, stop before you make it worse.”

Todd froze mid-reach, holding a napkin as if it were a peace offering. “Okay.”

Eve snorted, stepping closer to Juniper with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You know,” she said, tugging lightly at Juniper’s cider-stained sleeve, “if you’re already soaked, we could enter you in the wet sweater contest.”

Juniper shot her a mock glare but couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up despite herself.

Todd, still flustered, crouched to retrieve his trophy. “For what it’s worth,” he said sheepishly, holding the little golden sweater aloft, “I’d totally share this with you as an apology.”

Juniper sighed, shaking her head. “You’re lucky this sweater is just as ugly wet as it is dry, Todd.”

The crowd around them laughed, the moment breaking the tension and returning the festive atmosphere to the room.

Juniper stood up and went to get some fresh air outside as she peeled a damp napkin from her forehead. Once in the privacy of the parking lot, she looked down the collar of her sweater and winced as she realized that several of the blinking LED ornaments had overheated and left faint burn marks on her skin. This, she decided, was rock bottom.

“Here,” came Eve’s voice from beside her. A towel appeared in her outstretched hand. “Figured you could use a rescue.”

Juniper sighed, accepting the towel and dabbing at the mess of cider and sweat clinging to her sweater. “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

“I think you’re doing great,” Eve said, sliding onto the stool next to her. She had a way of saying things with such effortless sincerity that Juniper found herself begrudgingly believing her, at least for a moment.

“You’re the only one,” Juniper muttered.

“That’s not true,” Eve said with a smile, setting her camera on the bar. “Todd thinks you’re fantastic.”

“Great,” Juniper said. “I’ll just add him to my growing fan club of two.”

Eve laughed, leaning back against the wall of the bar. “Come on, it wasn’t all bad, was it? You survived the sweater contest. That’s a win.”

“Barely,” Juniper said. “You saw me out there. I looked like a malfunctioning Christmas decoration.”

“That’s what made it so great,” Eve said, her grin widening. “People loved you. You were relatable. Real.”

Juniper raised an eyebrow. “Relatable? I tripped over my own feet. Twice.”

“Exactly!” Eve said, laughing. “Nobody wants perfect. They want someone they can root for.”

Juniper shook her head, though she couldn’t help the slight tug of a smile at the corner of her mouth. “You’re way too optimistic for your own good.”

“Guilty,” Eve said, unrepentant.

A beat of silence passed, the muted noise of the crowded bar filling the space between them. Eve took a sip of soda.

“You know,” Eve said, her tone shifting slightly, “I get why you don’t love this kind of thing.”

Juniper glanced at her, curious despite herself. “Oh? Enlighten me.”

“It’s messy,” Eve said simply, fiddling with the strap of her camera. “Holiday traditions, big crowds, people showing up in sweaters they probably shouldn’t have bought in the first place—it’s all kind of ridiculous, right?”

Juniper nodded, waiting for her to go on.

“But that’s what makes it fun,” Eve continued. “Messy things are human. They connect people.”

“Or they drive them insane,” Juniper said dryly.

“Sometimes both,” Eve said with a shrug, smiling again.

Juniper looked away, focusing on the blinking lights of her sweater. Eve’s words gnawed at her, settling somewhere in the back of her mind.

Before she could respond, Todd appeared at her side, a broad grin on his face. “Juniper! You were amazing out there!”

“Thanks,” Juniper said, forcing a polite smile.

“I mean it,” Todd said, his enthusiasm undimmed. “You’ve got real stage presence.”

“She does,” Eve said, and Juniper shot her a warning look.

“Here,” Todd said, pulling something out of his pocket. It was a gift card to Jolly’s, emblazoned with the words Winner’s Circle.

“What’s this for?” Juniper asked, frowning.

“Your dry cleaning bill,” Todd said, looking sheepish. “I, uh, feel kind of bad about the cider incident.”

Juniper stared at the card for a moment before taking it with a sigh. “Thanks, Todd. That’s…thoughtful.”

“No problem,” Todd said, beaming. “See you at the next date!”

He gave a jaunty wave and bounded off, leaving Juniper and Eve in his wake.

“He might be even more optimistic than you,” Juniper whispered holding up the gift card. “Remind me to frame this as a souvenir of my humiliation.”

“I will,” Eve said, grabbing her camera. “And I’ll make sure to caption your mid-dance photo with something appropriately heroic.”

Juniper groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to haunt me forever?”

Eve’s laughter was warm and unrelenting. “Because it absolutely will. But hey, you survived. On to the next adventure, right?”

Juniper sighed, pulling her hands away from her face. “Right. Eleven more to go.”

“Atta girl,” Eve said, snapping one last photo.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3: Gingerbread Chemistry