Chapter Six - Lucky #2
The rest of the finalists have already disappeared around the corner.
“Whatever! Let’s just get going.” I run off in the direction she indicated without waiting for a response.
I’m relieved to hear the cadence of her sneakers behind me.
She’s way shorter than me, but she’s keeping up.
I pull my vlogging camera eye-level, point it at my face, and flash a grin.
“Day one, challenge one,” I yell into the camera as I keep up my pace down the sidewalk.
Becca manages to smile and wave when I point the camera at her, but I’m pretty sure she’d junk punch me if the opportunity presented itself.
I get a few b-roll shots and then switch the camera off.
“Which way?” I ask, as we come up to an intersection.
“It’s hard to tell, but I think we take a right up here.”
I don’t ask questions, I just do as she says. But then I see a sign on an adjacent building that gives me an idea. I veer to the left.
“What are you doing?” Becca screeches. “I said right!”
I keep running.
“You’re going the wrong way, Lucky!”
I slow just a little, letting her catch up.
“Look, I think this way will be another shortcut.” I point to the sign.
It’s a tall, brown wooden street marker with “Riverwalk” printed in white block letters.
There’s a white arrow pointing down a narrow stairwell.
“The guidebook in my hotel room said that the Riverwalk runs one story below the city streets. Without all the intersections and traffic, it might be a more direct route.”
Becca looks at the crumpled map in her hand. “I don’t know. In theory, it might work but . . .”
“Look,” I say through gritted teeth. “If we want to win this competition, we need to take a few risks.” I resist the urge to rip the map out of her hand. “I’ve got a good feeling about this, okay?”
Becca looks at me, back at the map, and then lets out a big huff. “Whatever. Let’s go.”
“That’s the spirit, baby,” I yell, flying down the stairs. “We’re so going to win this thing.”
“Has anyone ever told you that your head is too small for your enormous ego?” Becca deadpans behind me.
“Not today, Holly G!” I let out a gleeful little yell.
The Riverwalk is narrower than I was expecting, but it’s actually really cool.
Shops and restaurants line both sides of the river that runs directly through the city, with short bridges creating crossways every few feet or so.
We manage to make it pretty far down the path, but all of a sudden, we slam into a massive jumble of foot traffic. This particular part of the Riverwalk is teeming with tourists and patrons, and moving at anything more than a brisk walk is impossible.
Since the walkways are so narrow and there’s literally a river on one side and a stone wall on the other, the only thing we can do is awkwardly shuffle behind the near single-file line of tourists.
“Still have that good feeling?” Becca’s eyebrows are scrunched together, and her lips are pursed.
This was a bad idea. If we don’t get out of this crowd, we’re going to lose a ton of time. “Not so much,” I say honestly. “I guess I didn’t really think about the fact that it’s prime season for tourists around here.”
“No kidding,” Becca huffs.
“You didn’t exactly think about it, either,” I fire back, stepping up on my toes and trying to see over the crowd.
I’m pretty tall, but not even being 6’3” is helping me see a way out of this mess.
Even Tony seems to be having issues with the crowd, as several people bump into him.
It doesn’t stop him from keeping the camera pointed at us at all times, though.
I step to the side, stopping us beside a vendor cart of straw hats and sunglasses. Becca’s cheeks are flushed pink, but I can’t tell if it’s because she’s pissed or the heat. It’s cooler down by the water, but it’s still hella hot.
“I messed up,” I admit. “What do you think we should do?”
I brace myself waiting for her to fire back something snarky, but Becca lets out a little sigh and looks at the map instead. “We have to get back up street side. I can’t tell where we are down here.”
“Roger that,” I say, craning my neck back and forth in search of a stairwell that will take us back up. “Over there.” I find one a few feet behind us.
We head towards it, battling the crowd as we go.
A woman with at least twenty shopping bags on her arms turns around suddenly and slams into Becca, knocking her sideways.
Becca’s arms flap as she tries to maintain her balance, but her center of gravity is already off, and there’s nothing to catch her except the green-tinted water of the river.
I throw my arm out. My hand grazes Becca’s wrist, and I make a mad grab, pulling her towards me. The momentum sends her crashing into my chest. We both go stumbling backward.
I manage to keep us upright, though we teeter a little, and I tighten my hold, my arms wrapping around Becca for balance.
It takes a second to get my bearings, but once I do, I’m acutely aware of how close we are.
And I don’t hate it. The way she feels in my arms, the warmth of her body pressed against mine. Nope, I don’t hate it at all.
“We’ve got to quit meeting like this,” I joke, lowering my arms even though there’s a piece of me that wants to hold on to her.
Becca blinks and then cracks a smile. It’s the first one, the first real one she’s given me. It nearly knocks me over.
“Thanks for catching me,” she says, stepping back, her cheeks flushed pink. “Um . . . let’s go.”
She starts to make her way through the crowd toward the stairwell. I follow her, only to run straight into her when she stops abruptly, gasping. Spinning around, Becca pushes past me and Tony and hurries back over to the edge of the sidewalk.
Before I can ask what’s up, she whirls around, eyes wide. “Lucky,” her voice goes high-pitched. “The map! I accidentally dropped it when that lady smacked into me.”
I glance past her into the river. There in the very middle, floating atop the murky water, is our map. Without it, we have no idea where the checkpoint is or how to get there.
“What do we do?” Becca asks, her eyebrows lifted high.
“Only one thing we can do,” I say, bending down to untie my shoes. “We go fishing.”
I kick off one shoe and am about to do the other when Becca says, “Lucky? I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”
“What? Why?” I look up just in time to see a brightly colored boat, one of the river shuttles, cruising past us.
The bow of the boat scoops up the soggy piece of paper, and all Becca and I can do is stare as both the boat and our map disappear down the river.