Chapter 15 #2
Then the first wave of individualized riddles hit everyone’s phones.
The non-Emory set has been given a series of clues leading them to the west of the hotel.
Willa’s first riddle, for example, says, “I hope you are having an a-maze-ing time at the picnic,” which wasn’t Puck’s finest work, but they had to create flowcharts for twelve different people, so they can be forgiven for some laziness.
Francis is getting sent to the greenhouse while Tom is going to the astrolabe and Anya visits the statue garden, and so on and so on.
The Emory crew, meanwhile, have received more detailed and deliberate instructions.
More specifically, Mia and Zander were sent two different riddles that lead to the same place.
Mia’s says, “This is the perfect place to pond-er,” and Zander’s says, “Don’t bother fishing for another clue until you’ve found this one,” both of which, of course, should send them to the “fishing pond,” clearly labeled as such on the map.
As for themself, Puck instructed Nick to send them a set of riddles that they already have photos for, so they can keep up appearances in the rare event anyone wants to compare notes afterward. That should give them all the freedom they need to spy on Mia and Zander.
The wedding party consult their first riddles, and one by one, some of them exclaim “Oh!” in recognition and head off, while others begin power-walking toward their respective goals.
“What does yours say?” Puck asks Robyn, mostly to test how seriously she’s taking the exercise.
“I’m not showing you!” she says, which is reassuring. It doesn’t seem like she’s going to sabotage this activity after all, but probably only because of Mia’s endorsement. Robyn dutifully heads off toward the Athenian’s oldest elm tree, immediately solving her clue, as Puck predicted she would.
Puck waits until Mia and Zander head off down the forest footpath, the bride-to-be leaving shortly before her ex.
And then, once the rest of the group has dispersed, Puck darts into the trees, quietly working their way toward a group of boulders along the edge of the pond where they should be able to hide within earshot of the bench.
For now, Puck is willing to risk peeking around the side of the largest rock, but once Mia and Zander arrive, they will have to mostly rely on audio surveillance.
Mia gets to the bench first, but instead of whipping out her phone and snapping a picture of the pond right away, she takes a seat to soak in the scenery.
Good. Puck wants her to settle in. Zander follows about thirty seconds later.
Hearing his footsteps approach, Mia turns around and calls out, “You must have the wrong clue. The pond was mine!”
“I don’t think so!” In a few short seconds, Zander closes the distance between them and sits down next to Mia with a brazenness that Puck finds encouraging. “Look,” he tells her, holding out his phone, “mine is about ‘fishing’ for answers. There’s only one way to interpret that.”
“It could mean the restaurant,” Mia says. “The Court, on the sixth floor.”
“It’s not the restaurant, Mia. We’re at a picnic—all of the clues are going to be outside.”
“You don’t know that!”
A bit of inane bickering has always been healthy for Mia and Zander.
It keeps the pipes clean. But Puck doesn’t want them to waste valuable seconds arguing over a scavenger hunt they made only as a pretense to put these two in exactly this position: alone, together, with no one—that they know of—listening.
“What does yours say?” Zander asks.
“‘This is the perfect place to pond-er,’” Mia recites.
“Well, that’s pretty unambiguous. What if we both snap pictures of the water and see what the hotel says?” Zander proposes.
At that, Puck realizes they should duck back behind the boulder in case they’re spotted.
And if they do hear a shutter noise or two go off, they’ve got a contingency plan.
Nick will text both of them saying that the location of their next riddle is currently occupied, and that they should stand by.
But instead, Puck hears Mia suggest, “How about we just sit here for a minute? It’s kind of nice to get away from all the commotion. ”
Zander, though, apparently isn’t interested in peace. “Why’d you invite me, Mia?” he asks, blunt and unsparing.
He’s going straight there. Good.
“Because I care about you,” she answers right away, but it sounds forced, like Mia has practiced saying it aloud to convince herself it was the reason. “And so does Damon.”
“If you care about me,” Zander rebuts, “inviting me is probably the opposite of what you should do.”
“Do you not want to be here?” Mia sounds genuinely anguished.
“Not to watch you get married to him. You know that Damon used to jack off exclusively to anime women? Fuck, Mia, he’s my friend, or I thought he was. But we used to make fun of him between us, remember?”
“He was a kid, Zan,” Mia says, more pleading than scolding now, like it’s important to her that he understands why she’s doing this. “We all were. People change. You of all people should believe that.”
Puck would prefer if this conversation didn’t get so cutting quite so fast, but it makes sense that it might.
These sound like the kinds of things they’ve needed to say to each other but couldn’t among the group: For Mia, being direct with Zander might have felt like betraying Damon, and Zander has probably just been too fucking bitter and hurt to vocalize any of his feelings until now.
But if Puck knows anything from their time at Emory, it’s that the chemistry between these two should help them power through a heart-to-heart, even if they skip a few steps.
They’ll be pawing at each other before long, Puck is certain.
“I do believe that,” Zander says. “I have to believe it. But I don’t believe that you’re into him. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
Puck peeks between the rocks and sees Zander’s palms falling onto his knees in exasperation.
“You don’t think I’m into him, or you don’t think I’m over you?” Mia asks.
Zander’s answer comes immediately: “Both.”
Zander is the sort of man who can make something true by saying it with enough confidence, which must only make it more infuriating for Mia when he’s actually right. “You don’t get to say that to me after what you put me through,” she says.
“Tell me I’m wrong then,” Zander fires back, without acknowledgment.
“You’re not even going to say you’re sorry?”
“I’m sorrier than I can possibly say, Mia,” Zander says, his tone softening. “I want to spend months saying sorry if I can. But I’m about to lose the opportunity.”
Puck risks a peek around the side of the rock now that it seems like Mia and Zander are fully engrossed in this conversation. The former couple are completely focused on each other now, maintaining unbroken eye contact.
“Then why did you waste the time you had with me?” Mia asks, and she no longer sounds accusatory but mournful instead. “Why is it only now that I’m marrying Damon that you get sober?”
“I got sober before you got with Damon,” Zander protests. “Look, Mia, we can talk in circles all day, but there’s only one way to solve this. Tell me you’re over me, that you love him more than you ever loved me, and I’ll drop it, I promise.”
His tone is authoritative but solicitous. He’s looking directly at her, completely unafraid even though he’s holding his heart out to be broken. Even from a distance, it looks like Mia is having difficulty maintaining her composure.
“I can’t do that,” she finally says, tearing her eyes away from him.
“Why not?”
They still need some time to cook, but this exchange is heading in the right direction.
If Puck had to guess, they’ll be kissing each other in a few minutes.
Puck slides back down behind the boulder, pulls out their phone, and sends Nick a text: Give Damon the fishing clue.
If everything has gone according to plan, the groom should currently be in the rose garden, which places him about a minute out from the pond.
Done, Nick texts back.
“You don’t get to force everyone else to go back in time just because you have regrets, Zan,” Mia is now saying, as Puck tunes back in to the conversation.
“I don’t want to go back in time,” Zander says, a decade’s worth of passion packed into every single word. “I only came to this wedding because I want you now. I want you tomorrow. I want you always.”
Goddamn. Puck swoons at that, and they’re not even within ten feet of Zander.
They can only imagine the effect those declarations might have on a straight woman sitting right next to him.
Fuck it, they don’t want to imagine: They peek around the boulder again and see Mia, overcome with emotion, reaching out and grabbing hold of Zander’s hand.
Success. Now Damon needs to arrive, hopefully just as the affection ratchets up even further.
Wherever he is, he needs to walk faster.
“Why couldn’t you tell me this before, Zan? ” Mia says. “The wedding …”
“Doesn’t have to happen,” Zander finishes.
“You have free will, Mia. You have maybe the most free will out of anyone I’ve ever known.
You’re a force. You’re fucking uncontainable.
Those people out on their stupid fucking picnic blankets eating their stupid fucking canapés don’t know that, but they can find out. ”
Damon should be here by now—at least within sight. Mia is holding on to both of Zander’s hands now, and while it’s not a kiss, this would be incriminating enough on its own. There would be no way for Damon to forget how bad this looks. Where is he?
Puck looks down at their phone. Nothing from Nick. They send him a text: Anything from Damon?
He just sent me a picture of a fish painting in what looks like the hotel restaurant, Nick replies.
Goddamn it, Puck thought Damon was good at games. Why would he think that “fishing” referred to the Court?
If Mia and Zander send pond pics, tell them to wait where they are, they text Nick.
And then they’re off through the woods, trying to salvage their best hope.