Chapter 12 OTT
OTT
At the words that kick off every season of our favorite show, I reach for Yumi.
It’s involuntary. The second I brush her bare forearm, I redirect my hands to my mouth in overexaggerated shock, pressing the pads of the offending fingers into my lips like that could somehow burn away the evidence of my fingerprints.
The muddled British accent continues, “This season, we’re embarking on a slightly different kind of Adventure.”
“I’m sorry, folks,” a soft voice cuts in. “He’s taken now.”
There’s a flurry of activity as crew members appear around the corner, moving backward.
Their cameras are trained on JSP, in a midnight blue tux.
Whatever styling product he’s put in his wavy hair is currently fighting for its life against the mountain breeze.
His fiancée has an arm linked through his, her lacy white shift dress an unsubtle echo of a wedding gown.
The teams clap, beaming brightly at the happy couple as they take their place at the head of the stage. Before they even make it to their mark, I feel my toothy smile starting to falter from fatigue. I don’t know how beauty queens do this all day.
I stop my brain before it gets distracted by thoughts of the Beauty Queens. Better to catch a spiral early.
“My beautiful other half, Carolyn Woodward, is soon to be Carolyn St. Pierre.”
“And if there are double the St. Pierres,” Carolyn says as she gracefully steps onto her mark, “it’s only fair that there be double the prize money, right, everyone?”
Cameramen fly across the stage, deftly weaving out of each other’s way as they film us.
This is guaranteed screen time, if done correctly. Yumi’s wide-eyed shock is convincing without being—as we say on The Adventureverse analysis forums—OTT, over-the-top. I turn to her and mouth, TWO MILLION, like this is all brand-new information.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the cameras lock on us. Easy.
“Carolyn and I are so excited to share the beginning of our new adventure with these nine amazing couples, and with all of you out there in The Adventureverse.” He dips Carolyn and kisses her, the flourish of her shiny brown hair cascading to a stop as they hold the pose, framed between the two big rocks at the back of the theater.
I cheer, Yumi wolf whistles, and the rest of the teams follow suit.
I can so clearly see how this moment is going to look on my couch, color corrected so the sunset in the background is impossibly saturated.
And because of that, it almost doesn’t register that when Jonathan St. Pierre speaks about this season’s contestants, he’s speaking about me.
“This season of The Adventureverse is going to be unlike any other, but unfortunately one of these nine couples will have their voyage cut short today. Adventurers, there are only eight cars waiting to take you to Denver International Airport. The ninth team will have to get creative. Teams will race up these seventy rows of seats,” Jonathan says, pausing to wave a muscular arm at the amphitheater, “to retrieve their bags and their first envelope from the clue box.”
He scans the teams. I’ve looked into JSP’s ocean-blue eyes more times than I can count, but this is the first time he’s looking back into mine. There must be some Medusa in his blood, because I’m momentarily frozen under his stare. When his gaze alights on the next couple, I gasp for breath.
“The last pair of Adventurers to meet me in the City of Love will, unfortunately, be eliminated. Adventurers ready?” JSP asks, raising a hand in the air like a NASCAR official. “On your marks, get set…”
“Let’s get out there!” Carolyn shouts.
Immediately, there’s a scramble for the break in the stage’s barricade, sneakers pounding the stage with hollow echoes.
Team Football forgoes the intended route and simply launches themselves over the barrier, rocketing up the steps like it’s the easiest thing they’ve ever done.
For me, though, the combination of the climb and the elevation is grueling.
By the time Yumi and I reach the top, wheezing heavily, the jock team is already back down the stairs and out of sight.
As we reach our bags and throw them on, I glance.
I want to note how many bags are left and who’s behind us, but, with my tunnel vision, the information goes in one eye and out the other.
If I were watching at home, I would know exactly what order the teams were in.
But being in the throes of it, I only register the High Elves just ahead of us.
I grab an Adventureverse envelope from the iconic gold clue box and we race back down the steps to the exit.
At the dirt road outside the amphitheater, the High Elves break left down the path, but Yumi and I come to a stop, glancing uphill.
“Do we follow them?” she asks.
I’m not sure, but if it’s the wrong direction and we have to turn around, we’d still be ahead of them.
I give her a sharp nod and take off running.
Luckily, the High Elves lead us straight to a line of black SUVs.
They climb into the closest of the four remaining cars, so we take the one next to it.
I sling my bag into the trunk, Yumi’s bag falling in right after.
Bo and Petter take the middle seats, leaving Yumi and me to clamber into the wayback so they can film us.
“Airport?” the driver asks, shutting his door and pulling out onto the gravel.
“Yes, quickly. Please,” Yumi adds, her breath short.
“Give us a sec, don’t open that yet,” Bo commands, pointing at my hand as he and Petter maneuver their equipment around.
I look down at the envelope in surprise. I’d forgotten I was holding it, even as my death grip on the sturdy cardboard caused my hand to cramp. Dropping it into my lap, I massage my forearm and try to catch my breath.
“One day of prep was”—I pause to gasp—“bad. We should’ve been running marathons.”
Yumi nods breathlessly, motioning for me to wait as she takes a desperate gulp of her water. “Those football players were fast.”
I hold a hand out, signaling for her to pass me the bottle next. Mine is tucked away in my backpack, a mistake I won’t be making again. “I thought football, too.”
She finishes drinking and wipes her mouth. “Have the rest.” Her fingers are still too cautious, not brushing mine, but she does press the half-empty bottle into my palm. That’s…something.
I chug it, careful not to put my mouth on the same spot she just drank from.
“Is the City of Love Paris?” Yumi asks quietly, her eyes sliding to the envelope.
Passing the empty bottle back to her, I shrug. “I thought Paris was the City of Lights?”
“Paris is probably just the city of a lot of things.”
“Okay,” Petter says, his enormous shoulder-mounted camera angled right at my face. “You can open it now. Read it aloud. Speak clearly.”
I hesitate, my fingers toying with the tab of the envelope’s pull strip. As much as I want to open it myself, I recognize that we need to start interacting in some way or people are going to suspect we aren’t dating. And since Yumi won’t look at me…I hand her the envelope.
Seeming pleasantly surprised, she takes it and tears it open along the perforation in one satisfying motion. She turns it upside down, shaking free a single piece of paper, about the size and thickness of a postcard. On the back, it bears the show’s logo under the words First Adventure.
“ ‘Hello, teams,’ ” she reads. “ ‘Welcome to The Adventureverse. For your First Adventure, make your way from Denver to Paris Orly Airport. Your eyes may be more help than your ears in finding your next clue there.’ ”
“You were right,” I say. “It’s Paris.”
“Yeah.” She rereads it silently to herself. “What does the thing about our eyes mean?”
“Maybe it’s going to be a big sign? Or, like, that optical illusion puzzle from Season Ten? Where they had to look at pillars in a certain way to read the words?” We won’t really know until we get there, but that won’t stop me from stressing about it.
Yumi nods, pulling her notebook and a pen out of her fanny pack. “Let me know if you think of anything I should write down,” she says, copying the clue exactly how it’s written, line breaks and all.
I watch as she goes on to list out things she noticed about the eight other teams—their colors, where they were standing on the stage, their archetypes—and JSP.
Since the last challenge is usually an overly detailed memory game, note-taking is vital on The Adventureverse.
She writes furiously. By which I mean, illegibly.
It’s anyone’s guess as to whether her handwriting is messy from the adrenaline or the creative way our driver has decided to tackle lane changes.
The closer we get to Denver International Airport, the more wildly my heart beats. I press my hand against my chest, and when I look over at Yumi, she’s doing the same.
She smiles at me. Smiles. I don’t just see through the veil between worlds—I step through it.
It’s surreal. We’re here. We’re really here.