Chapter 34 Heaven and Earth
Heaven and Earth
“Yumi, you appeared to really struggle in the challenge today,” Aliona says, like it’s a surprise. Like that challenge wasn’t specifically invented for Yumi to struggle on.
My partner plays the game better than I do, though.
She nods. “Today’s challenge was a tough one for me.
I’m really terrible with heights, and two thousand feet off the ground is about one thousand nine hundred ninety-nine feet higher than I’m comfortable with.
” She smiles sheepishly at the camera, wrinkling her nose.
Aliona gives her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “What did it feel like when you read the clue envelope and saw this was a mandatory challenge?”
Unsurprising, I think bitterly.
“From the moment Noelle read the clue, I knew we had a good chance of getting sent home in Switzerland. Hopefully, it just isn’t our time yet.”
“Noelle,” Aliona starts, “how long have you known about Yumi’s fear of heights?”
I glance at Yumi, wrapping her arms around herself to fend off the gusty mountain night. “Yumi has been afraid of heights since seventh grade,” I say solemnly. “That’s why she decided to stop growing when we were twelve.”
“Hey!” She socks me in the arm as I cackle.
“Were you worried about her ability to complete this challenge today?” Aliona asks, once I’ve stopped laughing.
“A little, but—”
Aliona cuts me off to coach, “ ‘I was a little worried…’ ”
“Oh, sorry. I was a little worried that we wouldn’t be able to complete the via ferrata, but I also knew that it wouldn’t be Yumi’s decision either way.
As someone with ADHD, I know that you can want to do something, but that doesn’t mean your body or brain will cooperate.
If we got out on those rungs and Yumi just shut down”—I shrug—“that would be beyond anyone’s control. It’s evolutionary.”
Aliona nods, giving me the “OK” sign. “One last question for you girls: Are you proud of yourselves for what you did today?”
“Both of us?” I ask.
“Yes.”
My brows furrow. “I’m not particularly proud of my performance, but this wasn’t a hard challenge for me.
Yumi is the one to be proud of. If I were her, I wouldn’t have even tried—this girl gets vertigo when she has a class on the fourth floor,” I joke, turning to grin at her.
“The Adventureverse asked a lot of Yumi today, and she said, ‘You want me to move this? Sure, it’s just heaven and earth. No problem.’ She’s a badass. ”
There’s a poignant silence when I finish speaking.
“What?” I ask, looking between my partner and our producer. Yumi’s cheeks are pink from the chill, eyes watering in the wind.
Smiling slyly, Aliona shakes her head. “Note to self: Next time we have an all-couples season, put the death-defying challenge first. You are not the first couple to be all lovey-dovey after the via ferrata.”
My cheeks instantly heat, so warm in the Swiss chill that I wonder if I’m giving off steam.
“As long as we’re not there for it, I think that’s a great idea,” Yumi says, saving me from having to answer.
Aliona quirks an eyebrow. “So, you two wouldn’t want to come back for another all-couples season?”
I already know Yumi’s answer before she says it, but it still makes me laugh. “No, we’d rather be on the all-winners season.”
Once the high (pun not intended) of completing the via ferrata softens and we’ve been deposited into our quarters at a cozy bed and breakfast, I can finally worry.
My anxiety abhors a vacuum, filling every moment of should-be peace with catastrophizing, but there’s something paradoxically comforting about it, too.
If my mind were a forest, anxiety would be a paved road with streetlights and steady cell phone service.
Like, maybe it’s not the greatest thing for the forest in the long run, but it keeps me safe.
I’ve been down this path before, at least I know where it goes.
I’m already imagining getting sent home, touching down in Phoenix, dreading having to tell my dad that we lost. But when I get home, I find him unconscious on the floor of the kitchen.
I call 911 as I hold his hand. He’s still breathing, but I can’t wake him.
The operator asks how long he’s been out, and I tell her that I don’t know because I was busy gallivanting around the world for a competition I didn’t even win.
The paramedics arrive, bursting through the door, but they’re too la—
“Do you think it’s gonna be us?” Yumi asks, biting her lip.
I drop my pack at the foot of the bed, inhaling the scent of cedar and dust that fills our attic room.
The roof slants in a sharp angle, exposed wooden beams cutting into the space above the two large beds.
I want to lie, but we’ve both seen the show.
We both did the challenge. We know how this episode likely ends. “I don’t know.”
“Clyde and Cora could’ve struggled?” she suggests hopefully. “They’re not super athletic.”
“True,” I say. Ideally, it would be the world’s most unhappy couple going home tonight, but I know in my heart that won’t happen.
The Adventureverse gods just aren’t that kind.
Of the teams left, I don’t even consider the possibility that KC and Gabriel go home on this; they’re athletes.
I have a feeling it won’t be Clyde and Cora or Bee and Logan.
So, that leaves the Influencers, Matt and Morgan, and me and Yumi.
And Matt is the only other person who’s afraid of heights, so… I hope it’s Team Kendycane.
And, in the back of my head, there’s a little gremlin tapping on my skull with his unkempt fingernail, saying, Hey.
What if it’s rigged? This would be the perfect place to rig it, you know.
Nobody really knows what the times are. What if it’s rigged and that gets you sent home?
What if it’s rigged and that’s what keeps you in the game?
I don’t want to listen—not just because it’s always a bad idea to listen to brain gremlins, but because I know The Adventureverse isn’t rigged.
It never has been, it never will be. It’s edited to hell, it’s manipulated, but it’s not rigged. But what if?
“Don’t spiral,” Yumi says, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.
“I’m not spiraling.”
“You so are. I can tell. You have spiral face.”
“This is just my normal face,” I protest, patting my cheeks self-consciously.
Yumi laughs. “Yeah, well, you’re always spiraling, so that makes sense.” She exhales a puff of air that flutters her bangs. “It really sucks that if we go home today, it’ll be my fault.”
“Stop,” I say quickly, joining her on the floor. Our shoulders touch as I settle in beside her. “What was that you said in Iceland? You weren’t the only person on today’s Adventure.”
“But what if—”
“Nope.” I reach forward, grabbing one of the small decorative pillows off the bed and bopping her with it. “No what-ifs.”
She snatches the pillow from my hand and hugs it to her chest. “ ‘No what-ifs.’ Okay, I’ll remember that next time you start spiraling.”
“Oh, no, I’m allowed to what-if. Different rules for people with fucked brain chemistry,” I joke, waggling my brows.
Yumi narrows her eyes, mouth pulled into an exaggerated frown. “I hope your entire fall schedule is just three-hour-long lecture seminars. At eight a.m.”
I gasp. “How dare you!”
“And I mean it, too.” She nods definitively, but her heart isn’t in the teasing. She won’t let me lighten the conversation the way I want to. Sighing again, she says, “Really, Noe. I just hate that I might be the reason we don’t win. It’ll be my fault your dad doesn’t get—”
“Do not.” I sit up straight, pressing the back of my hand against her face. “Don’t go there. Whatever happens, happens. We gave it our best shot.”
Yumi nods, though I can tell she’s not convinced. The potential elimination hangs over us like the blade of a guillotine. A knock at the door moments later sends our heads rolling.