Chapter 8 #2
“So don’t talk about weddings,” I say simply.
“I can do that.” He leans in. “So what game are we playing?”
I shrug just as a cruise employee walks up with a microphone.
For a horrific second, I wonder if “games” is code for karaoke, which I will fail at miserably.
But then the employee speaks. “Hello, everyone. Welcome to our exclusive night of fun for our newly joined guests. I hope you’re all ready for a little friendly competition. ”
Aaron whistles .
“Try hard,” I mutter. Nate hides a laugh with his hand.
The employee laughs. “Exactly what I wanna hear as we go into our game. You better know your partner better than anyone else so you can take home an exclusive prize.”
A bag is brought out and Nate and I lean forward. Neither of us care what’s in it. We just know we want it.
“Without any further ado, I welcome you to the Newlywed game!”
I immediately snap out of my thoughts. “The what game?” I ask.
I take a look at the lounge. Everyone is paired off. Everyone is wearing a ring on their left finger.
Slowly, my gaze slides to Nate, who’s frozen in his seat. Then he looks back at me as if I’m a bomb that could go off at any second.
Maybe I am.
“Fuck it.”
“Wanna leave?”
“Nope. I want to win.”
“Are you sure about this? This is the Newlywed game. In case you’re confused, we’re not married.”
I take a whiteboard with a smile. “You know what would make me feel so much better?”
“A really strong drink?”
“Beating a bunch of married people with my best friend.”
He nods, understanding finally dawning on his features. “All right. Fair enough. We should have a plan for if they have questions about romance.”
That makes me pause. “Right. Any ideas? You’re better at last-second stupidity than I am.”
“I wanna be offended, but I can’t.” He taps his finger on his chin as he thinks. Then he shrugs. “Fake it till you make it.”
“Seriously? That’s your idea? ”
“We’ve known each other for almost two decades. I’m sure we can guess what the other will say.”
“You’re putting a lot of faith in us being synchronized.”
“Where else am I supposed to put it?” He gives me an easygoing smile that makes my cheeks grow warm. I’m sure he means nothing by it, yet my body reacts anyway.
This entire trip has been weird. There’s no other word for it.
“Let’s just hope they don’t ask who’s the better kisser.”
“It would be me.”
I gasp. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’m great at?—”
“All right, everyone!” The employee is back on the mic. “Time to go over the rules and get started.”
Reality creeps in and I’m glad we were interrupted. The last thing I need to be doing is arguing about kissing with Nate. It makes my stomach flip just thinking about it.
Instead, I focus on the rules. We would be working in rounds. One partner goes out into the hallway and a question is asked, and then they come back and answer. Whoever has the correct answer written down gets a point.
I’m the first one to go outside while Nate is asked a question. While waiting, Trixie finds me.
“Isn’t this exciting?” she asks. “How well does your husband know you?”
I suck in a sharp breath at the idea of Nate being my husband. “U-uh, I think pretty well.”
“Aaron can be a little out of it, but he thinks he does.” She laughs. “But that’s all marriages, isn’t it?”
We’re called back in and I watch as she practically bounces over to sit next to Aaron. Is that what I would have been like with Rob?
I’m not sure I would have been.
“All right, welcome back,” the emcee says. “We’ll take turns, but the question was: What’s your partner’s favorite pizza order?”
I glance at Nate, wishing I could read his mind. He’s the picture of ease as he leans in his chair. He knows he got this right .
When it’s my turn, I sigh. My pizza order is ... odd, by most people’s standards. I have no doubt he has no qualms about making me say it out loud. “Half pineapple, half Philly steak with green bell peppers.”
A hush falls out over the crowd.
“Add why,” Nate says. I can hear the smile on his face.
“I like both a dessert side and a savory side.”
The entire crowd erupts in whispers, and I know they’re talking about how weird my order is. Nate chuckles and turns his board around.
My exact words are on there.
“Wow,” the emcee says. “Good answer!”
I shouldn’t be surprised. Nate is usually the one who orders all of my pizza anyway.
“Did you have to include the pineapple part? These people will never respect me again.”
“Oh, I definitely did.” He laughs. “It’s time for everyone to know your shame.”
I want to glare, but it’s Aaron’s and Trixie’s turn, and I notice that he only gets it half right. Despite being outed as a weirdo, I smile. It’s nice to be reminded that Nate knows me.
For the next question, Nate leaves and I’m asked who among us is the tidiest. I answer that it’s me, adding that it’s by a long shot. It’s petty of me, but he outed my odd pizza choices, so I have a free pass.
When Nate’s asked the question, he immediately laughs. “Maisie’s the cleanest. By a lot .”
I smugly turn my board around. We’re once again right.
The rest of the questions are simple. They ask for my coffee order, which Nate knows like the back of his hand, who sleeps in later, and who’s more adventurous. We get every single one of them right. We think we have it in the bag, up until the last question.
It’s my turn to stay seated and Nate leaves the room. We’ve been lucky to avoid any romantic questions so far, but I should have known the other shoe would drop.
“When did your partner fall for you?”
All the muscles in my body tense. This is the one question I can’t answer, because Nate isn’t in love with me.
He’d said earlier to fake any romantic questions, so I could only guess what he would say.
We have thousands of memories, most of them good. I could choose one of the times we pulled all-nighters and pretended to be asleep when my parents checked in on us. Or the time when he stood up for me when some mean girls in high school were making fun of me.
I don’t like guessing. I like knowing .
But I have to pick something.
There’s one memory that sticks out among all the rest and I jot it down before I can think it through. But as all of our partners are called back into the room, I wonder if I chose the right one.
I’m starting to think I didn’t.
Mine is old. Too old. If this isn’t the moment he supposedly fell for me, then I’m fucked. I should have gone for something more recent. Something that would make sense.
“Nate? What was your answer?” the emcee asks. Nate glances at me, his smile fading. I know he’s trying to figure out which moment to say, even if it is a lie.
He’s going to pick the all-nighters. I just know it.
I send up a mental apology as he answers. “I ... was ten,” he begins slowly. “We were in the cafeteria. My mom had forgotten my lunch, and this girl next to me sees me not eating and asks about it.”
My hands tighten on my board as I remember the day. Gray walls surrounded us, and I remember seeing him slam his book bag down with a glare. I’d seen him around. He had his friends and I had mine. We’d not crossed paths other than in the hallway.
I was a goody two shoes, and he was the kind of boy who didn’t seem to have a care in the world. We shouldn’t have gotten along, and I avoided him because I thought we wouldn’t.
I was wrong.
Nate continues on, a small smile on his face.
I know he’s remembering it too. “And, fuck, I was a little jerk to her. She didn’t know it, but I didn’t wanna admit that we were too broke for school lunch and Mom had messed up.
I asked why she was bothering me. I figured it would get her to leave me alone, but she went red in the face and snapped something right back at me. ”
“Looks like everything is bothering you,” I recall before I can stop myself. “Not just me.”
Nate laughs and looks back at me. He looks younger, just like the day he’s describing. “She was right, of course. I just didn’t expect her to call me out on it.”
“You deserved it,” I mutter. Back then, I had a little more fight in me, just enough to tell off the boy who was acting like a jerk.
“The plan was to go sit somewhere else, but as she glared at me, she gave me half of her lunch. It was strawberries. Only strawberries, which is a fucking ridiculous lunch, by the way.”
“I was a picky eater. My parents just wanted me to have something.”
“And it was the best lunch I ever had. And that was when I knew.”
My cheeks burn. He means he knew we’d be friends, but here, with all these people, I could pretend it meant something else. But it’s one of our best memories. It was the start of everything for us, my nickname, our friendship.
Hearing it framed like this makes me feel like I’m lighting on fire.
The audience coos, completely oblivious to my internal screaming.
“Well, Maisie?” The employee looks at me. “What was your answer? ”
I turn my board around slowly.
When I shared my strawberries at the lunch table is displayed for everyone.