Chapter Nineteen - Becca
CHAPTER NINETEEN
My heartbeat is pounding so loud, it nearly drowns out the sounds of the gunfire from the show. Thankfully, I’m the only one aware of it.
Next to me, Lucky watches the performance, his eyes trained on the actors, but it still feels like his attention is on me.
Probably just part of the act, I reason with myself, but as my eyes flick over to him, this energy between us doesn’t feel like part of our plan. I chew the inside of my lower lip, and force myself to focus on the reenactment.
When the gunfight ends, the other finalists and I all stand to applaud the actors who bow and wave their hats before disappearing back behind the set.
“Finalists,” Dozer calls out, taking the place of the actors in the staging area.
“You just witnessed a reenactment of one of the most notorious gunfights of the Wild West. The shootout here at the O.K Corral, where in less than a minute, nearly thirty shots were fired between the Earps, Doc Holiday and the Clanton-McLaury gang. I hope you were paying attention because your next challenge was inspired by this very event.” He lets out a wild laugh.
Lucky and I share a “what are we in for now?” look before we’re quickly ushered out of the seating area by the Starlight producers.
Ahead of us, Evie and Ziven are whispering about something, and I notice Sean and Iris have their heads together, speaking in low voices. Even Ross and Skai seem to be talking strategy, so I elbow Lucky.
“Any idea what the challenge is?”
He shakes his head. “No clue.”
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, and I fish it out, dread already pooling in my gut.
I eye Tony, who’s walking near us, his camera panning back and forth across our group. He doesn’t seem too focused on us at the moment, so I put my phone up to my ear and answer the call.
“Mom?”
There’s a lot of commotion on the line and even though it’s muffled, I hear several things at once. My mother’s indistinguishable laughter, the sound of music playing in the background, and a distinctly male voice.
“Mom?” I try again, but I know she can’t hear me. Her phone is probably wedged into the back pocket of her jeans and this call is nothing but a butt dial.
I hang up with a hiss and try to keep my face neutral as anger and frustration tangle in my chest.
“Everything okay?” Lucky asks, keeping his voice low so that only I can hear.
“Mmhmm,” I lie. My throat burns, and I know that if I’m not careful, tears will be next.
“Talk to me, Holly G,” he tries again, and the concern I hear in his voice makes it even harder to answer.
“It’s my mom,” I choke out. “She’s at a bar right now. She didn’t mean to call me.”
It’s as minimal of an explanation as I can give at the moment, but from the shadow that crosses Lucky’s face, I know he understands. He opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it just as quickly.
I don’t need him to tell me to know that Tony’s camera has finally landed on us again, and there’s no way we can finish this conversation.
But then I feel Lucky’s pinky finger brush against mine. It’s a light touch and would appear seemingly accidental to anyone watching, but I know it’s his way of trying to comfort me. I have to fight even harder to keep the tears at bay.
Thankfully, I’m distracted when Dozer lets out an excited squeal and halts our little processional.
The parking lot across the highway has been transformed into an arena surrounded by a chain link fence.
Aerial camera equipment has been hung overhead and the whole lot has been divided into four distinct sections with lots of random structures, obstacles, and hiding places in between. It looks exactly like—
“Paintball?” Ross pipes up from the front of the group.
Mr. Dozer claps his hands together gleefully. “Yes, that’s correct, Ross! Your next challenge will be a shootout of your very own!”
“Excuse me, Mr. Dozer?” Evie shoves her hand up in the air. “We’re going to be shooting at each other?”
“That’s the general idea of a shootout, Ms. Montoya,” Dozer replied, winking.
Evie looks less than thrilled, and beside me, Lucky snorts, stifling a laugh.
“The premise of this challenge is simple,” Dozer continues as he walks us closer to where the course has been set up.
“You and your teammate will face off against the other teams in a shootout-style paintball game of Capture the Flag. Your objective is to make it to the other teams’ bases, capture their flags, and return to your home base without being shot by one of the opposing teams. Teams will be awarded points based on how many flags they capture, as well as how long each team member stays alive in the game.
The shootout at the O.K. Corral only lasted 30 seconds, but if you want your team to win, you’ll need to stay alive much longer than that. ”
Lucky elbows me, and I know what he’s thinking. This will be the perfect stage for Operation I Hate You. I smirk, already imagining the comments we’ll get after this one.
“Skai and Ross, you’ll be representing Team Earp,” Dozer announces, passing over a pair of red armbands.
“Evie and Ziven, you’ll be Team Clanton.” Evie grimaces, but Ziven looks jazzed as he takes the orange armbands from Dozer’s outstretched hand.
“Becca and Lucky, you’re Team Holliday, and Sean and Iris will be Team McLaury. Head over to your stations and get suited up.” Dozer passes me a pair of green bands, and Sean takes the final set of blue bands.
Lucky and I head over to our home base, where we’re each given a padded canvas chest plate and a helmet that has a thick protective shield over the face.
Anxiety over my mom still sours my stomach, but there’s anticipation and some adrenaline bubbling there, too.
I just have to stay focused on our plan and the challenge. I’ll worry about my mom later.
Tony follows us, where another Starlight executive is waiting to deck him out with his own protective gear. The camera on his shoulder also needs to be fitted with special coverings for the game.
“You ready, Holly G?” Lucky asks, under his breath. He’s trying to make it look like he’s busy tightening his chest plate, but his eyes flick up at me for a second and concern swims in them.
“I’m ready.” I flash him a quick smile. And I’m okay for now. Lucky returns my smile with one of his own.
I sneak a peek at Tony who’s almost done fitting his camera. “So how do we want to play this? Would it be bad form to shoot my own teammate with a paintball?”
“Probably. But that’s exactly what we’re going for,” Lucky drawls. “Do your worst.”
Once Tony’s back up and running, his camera starts capturing our every move. It’s almost as if someone has snapped one of those black and white clapboards in front of me and Lucky’s face. Lights . . . camera . . . Action!
“Here.” He smirks, reaching over to touch my helmet. “Let me help you with that.”
“I can handle it, thanks,” I reply coolly, stepping out of reach. There’s not a single trace of amusement on my face though I give Lucky a mental high-five.
“Right. So, listen, for a strategy, I’m thinking we should go after Ziven and Evie’s flag first.” Lucky points in the direction of their base.
“I don’t know,” I argue, pointing in the opposite direction. “I think Sean and Iris might be a better target. Sean is super competitive, and I doubt he’ll just sit back and guard his flag. Iris should be easy enough to get around.”
Tony steps closer, adjusting the angle on his camera as Lucky lets out a huff.
“Yeah, but Ziven and Evie are in first place. We need to get their flag.” He leans in, his face tightening with fake frustration. It’s so uncanny, I almost believe it myself.
“We need to get more than just their flag, Lucky. We should start with the easier targets,” I fire back.
“Everyone is going to be gunning for Evie and Ziven.” I press up on my tiptoes, bringing my face a little more level with his.
We’re glaring at each other now, and Tony slides closer, making sure to get the perfect close-up.