Chapter 41 Teamwork Makes the Dream Work
TEAMWORK MAKES THE DREAM WORK
SEYOON
I waste no time climbing up the rope. Sure, I may have realized there are—contrary to popular belief—more important things than winning, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give it my all. I’ve never been good at holding back.
Hand over hand, I pull myself up, not thinking about the pain or the growing distance between me and the ground.
The adrenaline helps. The thunderous cheering from the crew drowns out everything else until I’m on the first platform.
It’s more solid than I expected, thanks to the scaffold holding it up from below.
The next platform is about fifteen feet away, with two thick cables running between them.
Carter’s two seconds ahead of me and gets down on his knees next to the ledge.
He holds tight to one of the cables, then lets his body fall, dangling midair with only his grip and harness to keep him tethered.
As if he’s on monkey bars, he swings and grabs a section farther away with one hand, then again with the other hand, then again. He’s gaining the lead fast.
I only have one option to catch up, especially now that Dean’s made it onto the platform.
“Garrett better not have been serious about those safety waivers,” I mutter before running and leaping off the edge.
Gasps and shouts sound from below as I fly through the air—and latch onto the middle segment of the second cable with my whole body. I instantly flip upside down, still holding tight like a koala. Ow, fuck, that burned. But it worked. I’ve soared way past Carter.
Upside down, I keep my legs wrapped around the cable and pull myself across the rest of the distance. I accidentally glance down and see how high up I am. My breath stutters in my throat, but I just have to keep going. Umma’s going to kill me when she watches this.
Garrett’s moderation echoes from the speakers all around the forest.
Bold and highly dangerous move from Seyoon! I like it, but our insurance won’t! She’s now in the lead and already up on the next platform!
I have a better view of the rest of the course from here.
Across the maybe-two-hundred-meter distance are three smaller, standalone platforms, each about thirty feet up from the ground.
Between them are different obstacles: The first is a suspended bridge of swinging logs, the second is a rope swing, and the third is a declining net wall.
Somebody whizzes past me and onto the first log in the split second I’ve taken to think.
“Get out of the way if you’re just gonna stand around!” Carter yells, leaping from log to log, holding on to the handle strung parallel across. His steps send each of the logs rolling in place, bumping against one another.
“Motherfucker,” I grunt, then jump onto the first log. It swings wildly, and I lose my balance, falling forward. Ow, my face. Ow, my ego. I try to stand back up, but it’s impossible with how the bridge rolls under my feet. Every move I make sends the whole thing careening back and forth.
Dean catches up before I’ve found my footing.
But instead of hurrying on, he stands back, analyzing with his hand on his chin.
I’m still struggling to stand when he gets down onto the first log on his knees.
Slowly, so he doesn’t lose his balance or rock the bridge anymore, Dean reaches for the makeshift rope handle and pulls himself across, using the rolling logs to his advantage rather than fighting to stand on them.
Fuck… that’s pretty smart.
I’m going to copy him.
By the time I make it to the rope swing, Carter’s nowhere in sight, and Dean is already soaring across the huge distance. They’re both so far ahead of me. What am I going to do?
Shit. What am I going to do?!
I’m going to stop thinking about it, that’s what.
Dean lands on the other side and sends the rope back.
Shifting control to the fibers in my muscles rather than my brain, I jump off the ledge without waiting for the rope to swing across entirely and—oh fuck fuck fuck—catch it in between the two platforms, thank God.
Holy shit, adrenaline is a hell of a drug.
Dean lets out a worried, garbled shout. “What the fuck?!”
A nervous laugh bubbles from me as I careen over the distance. “We have these harnesses on for a reason, don’t we?” I yell back.
I get to enjoy his panicked expression for another second before he snaps out of it and hurries to the third obstacle.
Not too long after, I land with an “Oomph!” on the platform.
I scramble to peek over at the wide net wall.
It slopes all the way down until it levels out onto a flat portion we have to crawl across to another platform.
Dean hasn’t gotten very far, but to my surprise, neither has Carter.
The netting is probably hard to climb down at this angle.
If it were more vertical, it’d be easier, like a ladder. But it’s curved like a slide.
Wait…
Carter is struggling with his footing there on the net wall, slowing down his lead and giving Dean and Seyoon the opportunity to catch up. Seyoon’s getting ready to descend, but she’ll have to hustle if she wants to—
Oh?
“Watch out!” I yell as I toss my body sideways over the platform.
I roll down the webbing as easily as I used to roll down grassy hills as a kid.
Except, instead of getting grass stains and mud on my knees, I can already feel a pretty gnarly case of rope burn on my arms as I tumble down, down, down, until I roll to a stop on the flat part of the net.
I can’t believe that actually worked.
God, I’m good.
A genius strategy! Seyoon’s in the lead again, with only two more obstacles before she reaches the end!
Carter and Dean gawk down at me, fifty feet ahead of them, then immediately follow my lead to roll down the rest. Ha. Suckers. It’s too late though; I’m not letting go of the lead this time.
The next segment of the race is the easiest one by far, but also the longest. Dangling from a metal framework are large, square tiles of wood spaced a foot or so apart, stepping stones that weave and curve around tree trunks.
Unlike the last bridge, this one has no handles. I have to pray I don’t fall.
But of course, I don’t.
As someone who’s always loved running and never been religious, I thank both my cross-country coach and God as I sprint from tile to tile. It’s just a warm-up run, I think as the path turns tightly around a tree. Just a warm-up with long strides. I could do this in my sleep.
But so could Carter, probably, who I sense is coming up fast.
When I leap off the last tile and onto another wooden platform, I have to take a moment to catch my breath. It’s futile, because as soon as I look up and see what’s next, all the air escapes from my lungs.
There are two bridges in front of me. The one on the right is made of logs tightly woven together, and the one on the left is constructed of rope.
This is my chance.
I could secure victory right now, provided that Garrett was telling me the truth.
Something in my gut trusts him, and my gut’s generally more reliable than my head.
I know if I take the path on the left, I’ll win.
It’s so tempting, it burns. I would show Blake and Appa how wrong they were for thinking I couldn’t beat the odds.
I’d win the money and fix all of me and Umma’s problems. I’d prove I’m a winner.
But that’s not what I want to be remembered as.
Several seconds later, Carter jumps onto the platform, then Dean, and I hold my arm out to stop them both. “Wait,” I say.
I have to brace my core against the painful knowledge that if I had just gone ahead, there would be no chance in hell either of them would ever catch up, even if they did take the correct path.
Carter tries to wriggle around me. “Seriously, hold on, you asscheek,” I grunt. I don’t have long to convince him; he’s still moving as I speak. “Carter, Garrett lied to you. The path on the right isn’t the fastest one. He told me that the left one is.”
That gets Carter to freeze. Dean nearly snaps his neck from how fast he whips toward me. I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale through my nose. The crisp, pine air inflating my lungs slows the pounding of my heart and silences the chaos in my head.
When I exhale, it’s like releasing a rubber band that’s been stretched taut for far too long. The relief is instantaneous.
“Some things are more important than winning,” I say. “No more tricks. This is our chance to play fair for once. What happened to our parents doesn’t need to happen to us too.”
Neither of them move yet. My hands shake at my side from the terrible anticipation: I could have just made the worst mistake of my life.
But then I catch the look on Dean’s face and get to watch it transform from shock, to confusion, to glowing with devastating fondness. I think of Umma, and how she’d be proud of me. My fears ease. I’m sure I made the right choice.
Carter looks at me. The bridge on the left. The bridge on the right.
Then he throws his head back and laughs. “You must think I’m a fucking idiot. For the last time, get out of the way.”
He shoulder-checks me on his way to the bridge on the right, cackling as he sprints easily over the wood. My eye twitches as I watch him go.
“Can’t say you didn’t try,” Dean huffs, in a mixture of disbelief and amusement. He turns to me then, the smile on his face gentle and apologetic. “Lead the way.”
We run stealthily but carefully across the suspended rope, holding on to our cables the whole time.
The bridge goes up, until we’re fighting through the foliage.
Acid builds in my stomach as I pray Garrett was actually telling me the truth—that he actually wants to give us the fair chance he took from Umma and Dean’s dad.
“What are we going to do when we get to the end?” Dean asks as we hurry.
I wince—both at the stitch starting to form in my side from all this running and the inevitability of the finish line approaching. I haven’t thought through that part yet. Before I can answer, there it is: the end of the bridge.
It leads directly to a treehouse. But no, not any treehouse: the one from the Trailside Treasure Hunt.
Dean and I look at each other, then race to open the door, revealing the same three-sided interior as last time. Carter’s not here. Yet. Garrett was telling the truth.
We hurry to the edge, where the walls open up to the forest. A net’s been placed far below, suspended in the air. It’s the finish line. We have to jump.
One of us does.
My thoughts race as fast as my beating heart. I wish I didn’t have to choose. I wish I could have both, him and the prize, that we could have both—
Huh.
I have another idea.
“Let’s jump at the same time,” I rush out. The idea is settling in my bones now, and I’m energized by the potential of a we and an us again. “We’ll split the prize. Let’s do this together.”
I get it. I really get it now.
There are a lot of things that are more important than winning.
Dean’s eyebrows jump up beneath his curly bangs. I reach out and grab his hand to shake him out of his shock. His fingers clench over mine. Dean watches me like I’m the most precious thing in the world right now, even though a million dollars is three steps and a fall away.
“Why?” he asks.
His voice is flint against the fire steel of my heart, and it ignites everything I’ve been trying to choke out. “Same reason I gave you half my points, idiot!” I yell, face burning. “Because I want you more than I want to win. Do I have to say it out loud? Fine! I like you, Dean Parker, you—!”
He shoves me off the edge.