Chapter 31 The Better Team
The Better Team
The clue leads us to a nearby river, about twenty minutes away. Probably closer to ten minutes if our taxi would drive more than thirty-five miles per hour. If they had let us drive ourselves, Yumi and I would have been there in five.
When we arrive at the Checkpoint, the mountain standee is a sight for sore eyes. I thought I was going to die in that lupine field.
“Noelle, Yumi, you are the…fourth team to arrive at the Checkpoint here in Iceland,” JSP announces, clasping his hands before him.
Yumi squeaks, folding me into a hug, but I can still see Jonathan over her shoulder, and the look on his face makes me feel like a balloon—popped, not deflated.
I spin Yumi out of our embrace, watching JSP expectantly.
“Unfortunately,” Jonathan says with a tilt of his head, “you were instructed to bring all of the equipment you were giv—”
“We did!” Yumi interrupts, shifting her backpack, which had been partially obscuring the bucket of tools.
JSP shakes his head, crooked smile sympathetic. “You didn’t.”
Oh.
It hits me all at once: Einar fussing with his book, telling me to stay dry, acting weird. He was trying to get my attention. He was trying to help us and I walked away like an oblivious doofus.
“Fuck!” I shout, turning away from the camera to hide my face, which I can feel reddening.
“What?” Yumi’s hand lands on my arm and I jerk away from her, my anger spilling out of me in waves.
“I’m stupid. I’m so fucking stupid. I forgot the tarp.” I grab my bag and hoist it roughly onto my shoulder. “Do we have to take this with us?” I ask, nudging the bucket with my foot. I’m half tempted to punt it into the icy water and jump in right after.
Jonathan nods solemnly.
Yumi grabs the handle before I can even reach for it, and it only makes me fume more. She doesn’t trust me to carry it. And the worst part is, she shouldn’t. Wordlessly, she jogs behind me back to our cab, which mercifully hasn’t pulled away yet.
We drive, infuriatingly slowly, back to the challenge site.
When we get there, Bee and Logan have just finished their task and are running toward a waiting car.
They spot us, their eyes snagging on the bucket in our hands.
Logan breaks off back up the hill to grab their tools. Great. Glad we could fix that for them.
A mean-spirited hope that they leave their tarp behind is dashed when I notice they’re watching me, waiting to see what I’ve forgotten.
Einar watches me approach, sympathy plain in his eyes. He doesn’t speak—probably because he recognizes I’m in a rush—but he was kind to me, so I take a second at the top of the hill with him.
“You tried to warn me,” I say, closing a fist around the tarp, which still lies in the exact same spot on his bench.
“Yes,” he responds, frowning.
“That was nice of you. Thank you, even though I didn’t notice.” I raise the folded tarp above my head and take off toward Yumi, back in game mode. “I hope you kill all the lupines!” I call over my shoulder.
His echoing laugh follows me, trailed closely behind by the team with the biggest chance of sending us home. A team who had to make an entire pizza as a penalty. How could we have screwed this up so thoroughly?
“Can’t we go any faster? We’re in a competition for a million dollars,” Yumi pleads, using the passenger seat to leverage herself forward over the center console, as if the driver will be any less annoyed with us if we can get just a little closer to his face.
It’s approximately the hundredth time we’ve asked and the hundred-and-first time he’s said, “No.”
The only saving grace here is that I see Logan and Bee’s car a few lanes over from us, going the same meandering speed we are. And the reason that I can see them is because we are the only two cars on the road.
I’ve never met a driver so hellbent on going the speed limit.
We pull up to the check-in site for the second time, Bee and Logan’s car taking the parking spot beside ours. Yumi shoves the cab fare into the driver’s hand as I whip our bags, the bucket, and the tarp out of the trunk.
Yumi grabs our items, slings her pack over one shoulder, and takes off running toward the mat once more.
My pack jostles against my back as I run. Yumi is far ahead of us, but Bee and Logan don’t have to be faster than her, they just have to be faster than me—the slowest gazelle on the prairie.
This is my fault for forgetting the tarp, for not paying attention, for losing my patience and taking so long on the challenge. If we get eliminated here…
We won’t.
My feet pound the pavement, each step jarring my entire body. I don’t look at Bee or Logan as we race, but I sense them keeping pace on either side of me.
Yumi reaches the mat, her chest heaving with exertion as she looks expectantly back at me. In the final stretch, I lunge forward and cross the finish line just ahead of Bee and Logan, my breath coming out in short gasps.
“Noelle, Yumi,” JSP intones, drawing out the moment. “Welcome back. You are now team number five, and your adventure continues.”
He turns to the High Elves. “Logan and Bee, I’m sorry to say you are the last team to arrive to the Checkpoint here in Iceland.”
They stand there, expressions distant, which is not what I would be doing if—that could’ve been me and Yumi.
I grab her hand and she immediately steps into me, wrapping my arm around her.
“But luckily for you, this is a non-elimin—” Before JSP even finishes his sentence, Bee collapses forward into a crouch, sobbing.
Logan drops to his knees beside her, whispering as he helps her up, his face a mask of concern.
JSP gives them an approving smile before continuing, “As I was saying, this is a non-elimination leg. Your adventure will continue.”
Relief spreads over Bee’s tearstained face. She nods at JSP, her voice thick with emotion as she thanks him. Logan nods silently, arm hooked in Bee’s.
“Bee, I notice you’re having some very strong emotions right now. Tell us what’s going to change for you and Logan in the next leg so you don’t end up here again.”
Bee turns her watery gaze on me and Yumi. “What’s going to change, Jonathan, is we won’t let a team that we’re better than beat us again.”
And with that, any sympathy I’d developed for her in the past few minutes completely disappears from my body.