Chapter Seven - Becca
CHAPTER SEVEN
“That’s . . . not good,” I murmur, completely stating the obvious as the river shuttle putters out of sight.
Lucky has stiffened beside me, his shoe still in his hand and his eyes wide in a look that I can tell mirrors my own.
Without that map, there’s no way we can make it to the checkpoint. We’ll have to head back to the convention center and either ask for another one or admit that we’re not able to complete the challenge.
All the warmth that flooded my skin when Lucky caught me, drains away and I shiver.
How is this possible? The very first challenge, and we’ve already failed so spectacularly that I don’t think we can come back from it.
If I didn’t care, I might laugh about how wrong things have gone, but my entire future depends on winning this competition.
If I look at it through that lens, nothing about this challenge is even remotely funny.
Lucky snaps out of his daze and whirls to face me. “Please tell me you memorized the checkpoint location.”
“What? No.” I shake my head. “Why would I do that?” The words come out sharp.
Lucky yanks a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “I don’t know. It just seems like something you’d do.”
“Well, I didn’t.” I narrow my eyes. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
I’m not trying to sound defensive, but I’ve never been very good at hiding my emotions—unless I’m on camera. But this isn’t me filming a makeup tutorial in my bedroom, and my thread of self-control is fraying. Tony’s camera emits a low, mechanical sound as he zooms in on us.
Lucky groans. “It doesn’t mean anything.” For the first time since I met him, that easy, breezy smile of his has faded. “You just seem like an organized person, that’s all.”
He’s not wrong, I am pretty organized, but still, the assumption annoys me.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t have the bright idea to take a so-called ‘shortcut,’ on the Riverwalk.”
I’m completely glazing over the fact that not even five minutes ago, he totally saved me from falling face-first into the water, but we wouldn’t have been down here in the first place if he had just listened to me.
“Well, you’re the one who dropped the map, Holly G.” Lucky fires back, though he doesn’t seem quite as upset about this whole mess as I am. “I guess we’re just going to have to get a little creative.”
The lines in his forehead are already softening and a smirk is forming, which makes me want to groan. I’ve seen Lucky’s videos, and his definition of creative is not the same thing as mine.
“I don’t even know what that means, but we should probably get back up to the street level. Maybe there’s someone we can ask for directions.”
I don’t wait for him to follow me as I head for the stairwell he indicated earlier, taking the stairs two steps at a time.
Back on the street level, the foot traffic has picked up a bit, but I don’t see anyone I recognize.
There are no other finalists or Starlight people on the street and no indicators that we’re even in the right part of the city.
I wrack my brain trying to come up with some idea that will help us—I’m usually very good in a crisis—but I can’t think of a single thing.
I eye Tony.
“Hey, Tony. You wouldn’t be able to give us a hint or point us in the right direction, would you?”
Behind the camera, Tony stays quiet, though I do see the slightest shake of his head. I sigh. “I figured not.”
I focus on Lucky, who’s suddenly super chatty with the lady standing next to us. When she hands him her cell phone, I balk.
“What are you doing?” I ask, leaning over to see the screen.
“I’m using my new friend’s phone to get us out of this mess.”
“Oh yeah? And how exactly are you going to do that?” I challenge.
Lucky swipes at the screen. “I’m checking the competition hashtag to see if any of the Starlight people or fans from the audience have posted anything that might tell us where the checkpoint is.”
“Oh.” Surprise ripples through me. It’s actually a really smart idea, though I don’t tell him that. “Find anything?”
Lucky shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the phone screen. “Not yet.”
He switches to another site, navigating to one of Starlight’s accounts.
The very first picture on the profile grid is of a blonde woman in a bright blue Starlight polo standing in front of a beautiful Gothic-style stone church.
It has massive towers, each with pointed arches, and a stunning stained glass window centered over the wooden doors at its entrance.
We read the caption together:“First challenge is a go! Waiting for the finalists to come claim their tokens!”
“That’s it!” I grab his arm and jump up and down. “The checkpoint!”
Lucky’s already pulling up the internet app on the phone and typing in “historic churches downtown San Antonio.” He taps on Google images, and the third picture that appears is the same one from the Starlight photo.
“San Fernando Cathedral,” he reads, and then types the name into the maps app. After scanning the directions, he returns the phone to the lady, and we both thank her profusely.
“You ready to finish this, Holly G?” Lucky’s full smile has returned now, and he winks at me. “Let’s go!”
He takes off, sprinting down the sidewalk, and I hurry to follow.
“Come on, Bex,” I mutter under my breath.
"You got this, girl." I run a little faster, trying to compensate for my short legs. I’ve always considered myself to be in decent shape—I practice yoga pretty regularly—but running?
Yeah, I don't really do that unless something is chasing me.
Lucky peeks over his shoulder every now and then to make sure I'm still behind him.
He doesn't slow down, but he's at least not abandoning me on the sidewalk. Seems he’s really taken to the whole team aspect of this competition, which is . . . well, a little surprising. But Lucky DeLucca himself is a little surprising. I guess it’s true what they say about first impressions.
By the time my lungs feel like they’re about to explode from lack of decent oxygen, the layout of the buildings begins to change, and on the right side of the road, the city opens up into a beautiful plaza with the San Fernando Cathedral at its center.
The courthouse is adjacent to the church, and there are several brightly-colored canopies that look as if they are made of giant fabric bands woven together.
There are a bunch of tables and benches spread out underneath them and in the sunny areas of the plaza, and dozens of tourists are taking advantage of the shade.
The canopies, along with the grandeur of the cathedral, is enough to make me want to stop and look around, but then I spot the woman from the photo standing directly in front of the massive wooden entrance doors.
Lucky, who has slowed his pace a little, is capturing some quick b-roll footage. While he does that, I rush over to the Starlight woman. “Becca Evans and Lucky DeLucca,” I wheeze. “We’re here for our token.”
The woman flashes me a smile. “Congratulations on making it to the checkpoint. Here’s your token.” She holds out her hand and a small golden disk sits in her palm, glinting in the bright sunlight. I snatch it from her hand and run over to Lucky, yelling, “Thank you!” over my shoulder.
I flash Lucky the token, and then we’re running again, back the way we came. I keep my eyes on Lucky’s t-shirt, the stark white of it like a beacon as we race back through the crowded streets, Tony and his camera running with us.
“I can see the convention center up ahead,” Lucky yells back. “Just a few more blocks.” He turns around, his vlogging camera pointed directly at my sweaty, red face. I immediately throw up a smile, trying to ignore the fact that my entire body feels like cooked spaghetti.
I nearly cry with relief when I spot Mr. Dozer waiting for us at the starting line. He’s standing there beaming, with the entire Starlight team waiting behind him. Lucky and I race towards him, both of us panting and dripping sweat.
“Becca! Lucky!” he booms, clapping his hands together. “You made it!” He lets out a wild laugh, while we do our best not to collapse in a heap at his feet.
Bending over, I brace my hands on my knees and try to catch my breath. That’s when I notice the row of vehicles parked out in front of the convention center.
There’s an older model pick-up truck, a shiny black sports car with all the bells and whistles, and a bright yellow jeep wrangler—all ranging in age and features. None of the other finalists are in sight.
“Are we first?” I gasp out. A kernel of hope springs to life in my chest. Did we, in spite of the detour from hell, actually manage to win the challenge? “Did we make it back before the—”
Lucky must realize the same thing I do because before I even finish my sentence. He lets out a whoop. “See?” He grins at me, still panting. “And you were doubting me and my shortcut.”
I snort. “Let’s not get carried away.” But my cheeks lift in a smile.
“Welcome back, welcome back!” Mr. Dozer booms. “What an incredible first challenge!” He’s grinning so widely, I’m waiting for his horse-like teeth to pop out of his mouth, but he manages to keep them behind his lips. “Do you have your token?”
I nod, handing it over to him.
“Excellent!” Dozer says, closing his hand around our token. He hands us our cell phones. “Here are your phones and your keys.” He dangles a keyring from one finger of his other hand.
“Wait,” Lucky says, his eyebrows scrunching. “I thought we got to pick our car. That was the perk of being first, right?”
I look to Dozer, confused on this as well.
“Ah, yes,” he confirms. “That is indeed true. But—”
The doors to the convention center fly open and the rest of the finalists pour out, laughing and smiling. They’ve got their luggage with them, and Ziven is shoving the remnants of a footlong sub in his mouth—one that came from one of the convention vendors.
“We weren’t first?” I say out loud, my voice breathy.