Chapter 7
MISSY
Adrenaline courses through my body, eclipsing my anger over Colton’s heartless comment or the surprise of the pop challenge.
At the word sabotage, all teams scramble to their feet, booking it toward the shore where a line of colorful rowboats await us.
I hike my gown to my knees as I run past two contestants that trip over each other and tumble forward in the sand in their fine evening attire.
I’m suddenly very grateful the style team suggested I go sans formal footwear.
Just ahead of me, Colton sprints at the head of the pack, shrugging off his suit coat and ditching it in the sand.
Colton and I are among the first to the rowboats, along with Heartbreaker and Tearjerker, but instead of hopping into their boat right away, the two men from Team Ruby grab the oars out of Team Peach’s and Team Lime’s boats and hurl them into the ocean.
I fight the urge to collect the oars and put them back in their boats, when I remember that this is a survival show.
Just like Uno or Mafia, sabotage is not just expected; it’s needed to win, and it’s something we all signed on for by being here.
I briefly look up and see the drones buzzing above us like a swarm of flies devouring the first deliberate act of sabotage this season.
Hastily, Colton and I heave our rowboat into the ocean, and I jump in shortly before Colton does.
Colton sits down backward on the first of the two wooden benches so that he’s facing me as I sit forward on mine.
Then, he grabs the two oars straddling the benches and places them in the little U-shaped oar holders attached to the boat.
Wasting no time, he paddles furiously past the breaking waves.
As Colton pushes and pulls the oars with broad strokes, I reach for the two teal-and-black backpacks slumped in the center of the boat.
I open one and am relieved to find that it’s mine.
These are the exact same backpacks we came with.
My fingers fumble around, finding my three personal items inside, along with the black-and-teal outfit I wore to the airport.
But then my hand hits something foreign, cold, and hard.
I pull it out in front of me. “They gave us a crowbar.”
“It must be for opening the floating crates,” he says, his voice barely audible above the lapping waves.
I peer over Colton’s shoulder and spot several crates lit up by floating lights.
At the rate we’re rowing, we likely have several minutes till we reach one.
I turn to look behind us and find Team Ruby followed closely by Team Fuchsia.
All the while, Team Violet and Team Amber are struggling to row past the first break of waves.
Behind them, Team Lime and Team Peach search desperately for the oars that Team Ruby chucked into the ocean.
“Did they put anything else useful in your backpack?” Colton asks.
I set the crowbar on my wooden bench and continue to fish around, wishing I had more light now that we’re farther from the spotlights on shore.
As if answering my unspoken wish, a camera and spotlight drone come and hover right above our rowboat. “Why, thank you,” I say to my technologically advanced helpers.
Now that we have our own beam of light, I finish searching through my bag and find that it holds no more surprises. I put my backpack down and pick up Colton’s bag, ready to see if he’s got anything useful in his, when Colton’s rushed voice says, “I’ll look in my bag, Missy. You paddle.”
I glance up, confused. Surely, he doesn’t need to halt our momentum just to search his own backpack. Suddenly, he pulls the oars in, grabs his backpack from my hands, and crouches forward to trade places with me.
I’m curious as all get out, but I waste no time switching places and rowing like my life depends on it, because it does.
Colton looks through his bag, shifting his items around and keeping whatever is inside private. Is he really that embarrassed I’d find more hand sanitizer in there?
“Nothing. Looks like that crowbar is all the help we’re getting for this challenge,” he says, a little breathless. He’s already winded from rowing, and quite frankly, so am I. I can already feel my biceps burning from the constant push and pull against the waves.
“Here. I can take them.” Colton motions to the oars, just as he and I are met with a splash to the face by none other than Tearjerker from Team Ruby.
“You’re going down Team Teal,” Tearjerker calls as their boat inches into the leading position.
Both Tearjerker’s and Heartbreaker’s dress shirts are wet and clingy, leaving me clear on the fact that, out of our two teams, they have the physical advantage.
I mean, we’ve got Colton, which, objectively speaking, is a plus muscle-wise, but we also have me.
I do like yoga, and I lift some dumbbells now and again, but Heartbreaker and Tearjerker …
they must be lifting dairy cows if their bulging arms have anything to say about it.
Sending us a farewell grin, Tearjerker continues digging his oars deep into the water, thrusting his team farther until they pull an entire boat length ahead of us.
“Switch me?” Colton says, already crouching forward.
“Gladly.” Without question, I direct the oars into Colton’s hands and stretch out the ache in my palms as we, once again, awkwardly dance around each other, keeping our centers of gravity as low to the middle of the boat as possible before resuming our previous seating arrangements.
To anyone watching us from the drone’s vantage point, we likely look like a pair of dancing pheasants during mating season.
I hope Niall is watching because that’s as close to a showmance as Colton and I will ever get on this show.
Once Colton has a good grip on the oars, he goes double time on the rowing just to keep pace with Tearjerker and Heartbreaker. Team Ruby may be jacked, but they’ve never met a Downing with toxic perfectionism before. Go, perfectionism, go!
By the time Colton and I reach one of many crates bobbing in the ocean, Team Ruby is just behind us, busy opening a different crate with their crowbar.
Just behind them, several other teams trudge forward, gaining on our boat.
We need to make our stop at the upcoming crate as quick as possible if we want to beat the other teams to Sabotage Island.
I clutch the crowbar and ready myself to open our first crate, when I find that Colton is not slowing down.
In fact, he’s nearly leaning off his seat, heaving as his arm muscles strain against the confines of his white dress shirt.
I watch as his eyes nervously glance over my shoulder, and I turn to see a fuchsia boat pulling up beside us.
Legend paddles with fervor, and the fuchsia team blazes past the crate closest to them, their eyes trained solely on Sabotage Island.
It’s clear they don’t plan on stopping for any supplies, but rather, being first to the island.
Risky. I’ve seen this show long enough to know that the food and survival items obtained in the first challenge go a long way in helping contestants survive the season.
“Colton,” I shout as he continues to propel our boat farther past the crate. “What are you doing? We need to stop and get supplies.”
“We need to make it to the island before everyone else.” Colton keeps rowing; all the while, his gaze darts around us, keeping constant tabs on the other teams.
“No. We need to stop at a crate first,” I say, my voice rising with irritation.
“We can scavenge for food when we’re on the island. Right now, we need to be focused on coming in first place and getting that reward.”
We are just approaching another lit-up crate when I realize that, with or without my input, Colton’s planning on rowing past it.
“Colton, stop!” I yell, gripping the oars in his hands and slowing our movement.
Colton finally looks up at me, his brows scrunched in frustration. “What are you doing? We need to keep paddling.”
“How do you expect us to last the next couple of weeks on what we find on the island? I know this show, Colton, and it’s going to be a lot better for us if we take the time to gather supplies.”
“Staying safe from the upcoming elimination is priority right now. We need to get to that beach first. I promise that once we get there, I will find us food.” He looks at me like he’s a hunter and gatherer from 10,000 BC and not the guy who attended a $10,000 per plate benefit last month.
“Colton, you don’t even like coconut. What food do you plan on finding on that island?”
“I’ll eat the coconuts. I don’t care. Let’s just keep rowing.” He tugs on the oars we both hold onto, but I keep my ground, not willing to let our chance to get supplies slip by.
Suddenly, panic flashes in his eyes, and I look next to me to see that both Team Ruby’s and Team Lime’s boats are nearly level with us.
“Missy, we have to go. Now,” Colton grits out.
Fortunately, Team Ruby stops at a second crate just as Team Lime does the same. I throw an arm out in their direction. “Colton, they are stopping. Let Legend and Silver win this one. We can still get food and supplies, make it to the island, and avoid coming in last.”
Colton huffs impatiently, his blue gaze boring into me. “You have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” The man who’s been a constant pain in my derriere since high school. The man who insulted me on live television a half hour ago.
“Missy, listen. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye. And I know what I said tonight was …”
Rude, mean, thoughtless, I want to say.
“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” he says, his damp hair curling against his forehead.
I push back the embarrassment I feel remembering the interview. This is not the time for emotional replays. This is the time to give this show everything I’ve got.