Chapter 3
Celia
“Okay, team, let’s go over our game plan,” I say, studying my open Notes app, where I have everyone’s strengths clearly outlined.
It’s the day before New Year’s Eve, and I am prepared to win. I spent Christmas Eve and Day with my large family packed into my parents’ small family home. My parents are good people, but they have never had enough resources to care for the seven of us. It was always a “hurry up and eat your dinner before someone else snags it” mentality. We only played sports if they were free and offered through school, and we were all on the state-provided school lunch program. We weren’t impoverished, but we weren’t quite middle class either. Our family hovered right at the poverty line, and all of us know how to make a dollar stretch, which is why I left Ruston for Dallas as soon as a scholarship allowed me to. It didn’t hurt that our longtime friendship meant Brian was willing to share expenses with me.
I’ve done alright for myself as an interior designer. I’m not wealthy, but I live far more comfortably than I did most of my early life. I’d congratulate myself except for the fact that guilt gnaws at my insides every time I think about my siblings still at home. I was born the third of five children in the Martinez clan. I am the middle child and harbor all kinds of indignant feelings about being overlooked. Though to be fair, all five of us battled for our parents’ attention.
When I went home for Christmas this year, I was again confronted with the reality that my little sister, Maria, is just as desperate as I once was to get out of our small hometown. But where I had the grades and a friend to help me, she has neither of those things. I’ve been quietly saving money to help with her college and living expenses, but winning the Ruston Race prize would be enough to help fund her first year out of the house.
I pulled Maria aside after our small Christmas Eve dinner and told her I was working on something to help her and to not give up hope. She didn’t believe me, though, and that punched me right in the heart. I want her to come live with Brian and me in Dallas, but she has her hopes set on LSU in Baton Rouge and its graphic design program.
“Celia?” Katie asks, snapping me out of the memory. And I realize my team is still waiting to hear my game plan.
“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking,” I say, forcing a smile onto my face. “Since we don’t know what the race tasks will be, I thought it best to go over all of our strengths and weaknesses ahead of time. That way, when we come up against a task, we won’t waste time fighting over who should take the lead.”
Katie grins. “You’re so good at this, Cee.”
Her fiance, Jacob, slides his arm around her waist, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Look, if you need someone to take charge of an eating contest, I’m your guy,” Jacob says, trying and failing not to laugh.
We all chuckle, remembering his disastrous attempt to win the crawfish-eating contest at Mudbug Madness. The video went viral after an untethered dumpster rolled across the field and knocked him over, and he fell face-first into cayenne-covered crawfish shells, turning his beautiful brown skin fiery red and puffy. Even Brian breaks his usual reticent nature to laugh.
“Noted,” I say.
“So, we have Jacob taking the lead on athletic and eating activities,” I say with a wink. “Katie, you are a pro at showmanship. If anything involves singing, dancing, or performing, you’re our gal.” She pumps her fist. “My strength definitely lies in design, as well as leadership. And Brian,” I turn to him. He lifts an eyebrow in challenge and curiosity. “Brian is our resident math geek and trivia nerd.”
His eyebrows drop, and I swear a flash of hurt darts across his features. I’m surprised by the reaction and it makes something ache deep inside my chest. This is how we’ve always spoken to each other. Maybe it’s because Jacob is here, too, and he wasn’t part of our original high school posse?
“Questions?” I ask, pushing past the weird feeling.
“What about team events? Like, what if we have to pair up or work together?” Katie inquires.
“Then whoever has the most experience with that sort of task will direct us,” I say confidently.
“And what about deciphering the clues?” Brian asks quietly.
“That’s something we will do together. But Brian, maybe gaming will give you an edge on figuring them out?”
He nods, dark eyes lowering. My stomach flutters at his serious expression.
“Right then. Time to pick our team shirts.”
New Year’s Eve is here, and we are as ready as we can be. Part of the scavenger hunt rules require that we have a team uniform. Katie decided that we should stay away from anything other players might pick, like Mardi Gras gear or LSU shirts, and instead picked out fluorescent tie-dyed shirts for all of us to wear. I even have a matching beanie cap.
“Seriously?” Jacob asks, holding up his shirt.
“We will be able to see each other more easily once it gets dark. And,” Katie says excitedly, “I got these!” She holds up glow necklaces. “Go Team Glow!”
Jacob rolls his eyes, but he still smiles at the woman who holds his heart.
I turn to look at Brian and he’s holding up his loud shirt. He glares at me like, “Really, Cee? Really?” I shrug and pull my team shirt on over my t-shirt. It’s not super cold despite the fact that it’s December 31. The South can be temperamental this time of year, but this evening, the temperatures hover in the low fifties. It’s perfect for running outside in the moonlight.
“We need to head to the race’s starting point to get our first clue,” Katie says excitedly. “It kicks off at 8 p.m. sharp, and we want to be ready to roll.”
Rockets launch in my stomach as adrenaline begins coursing through my veins. The combination of the competition and knowing our win could help Maria is making me giddy.
We walk quickly across the church parking lot to the registration table. Amelia and her husband, Rhett, stand behind it handing out packets and fielding questions. It’s amazing to see how much Amelia’s confidence has grown since I first met her when we were in high school. The same goes for Katie’s shy brother, Rhett. His ruddy hair matches his sister’s, and his handsome features draw more than a couple of lingering looks. But he only ever has eyes for Amelia.
When we approach the table, Amelia catches sight of us and cheers. “Thank you so much for participating! I was worried we wouldn’t have a good turnout, but we have more than fifty teams entered. Can you believe it?”
My stomach flips as I mentally calculate the odds of winning this competition. There’s no way. No, Celia, I mentally scold myself. Someone has to win this. Why not you? Why not us? I stand a bit taller and watch Katie run to her brother and give him a huge hug. He chuckles quietly at something she says, and then Katie trots back over to us, packet in hand.
“Remember, don’t open that until we officially announce that it’s time to begin, or the race judges will disqualify your entire team,” Amelia lightly scolds.
“We will be on our best behavior,” Katie says with a wink.
I hold our packet as we gather around the starting space. The sun sets early this time of year, and it’s already dark outside. Tall lights frame the edges of the parking lot, casting a cozy glow around the space. Anticipation hangs in the air as excited teams of four dance from foot to foot and chatter.
Finally, Amelia steps up to the microphone. “Welcome to the first-ever New Year’s Eve Ruston Race!”
Everyone claps and whoops with excitement.
“Here’s how this is going to work. There are four total sites you’ll be visiting tonight. Each team holds a packet with the first clue inside it. Your goal is to decipher the first clue and figure out where to go. Once you get there, you will have to complete a task in order to receive your next clue. There will be referees at each site, and if you cheat, you will have to sit on a time delay or be disqualified. Because we have so many teams, the starting clues will send groups to different sites to keep things moving. That also prevents some cheating!”
“Aw man!” someone calls out, and everyone chuckles.
“Remember, there is $10,000 on the line for the winning team. This whole event is aimed at helping the community and bringing awareness to different charities around town. So, let’s not act like clowns. Any kind of underhanded behavior, including but not limited to sabotaging another team, purposefully injuring someone, and damaging property, will result in automatic disqualification. The first team to complete all tasks and arrive at the finish line will win the grand prize. There are also opportunities to earn bonus tickets that will advance your final place at the end of the race. So don’t give up! You never know when you’ll come from behind and take the lead.”
Cheers go up at this. I relax, knowing Amelia really has thought of everything. “At the sound of the buzzer, your team can open your packet and read the first clue. Work together to figure out where to go and what you might be doing once you get there. Oh, and flashlights have been generously provided by Edwards Hardware store. Be safe out there, and may the best team win!”
Amelia reaches over and grabs an air horn. “On your mark, get set, go!” she yells and blasts the horn.
My heart is thrums in my chest as Brian runs for a set of flashlights, and I tear open our first clue.
It’s New Year’s Eve, and you’re the star
Get ready to show us who you are
Once a silent movie space
Now a National Historic Place
Head downtown and make your move
Loosen up your hips and get ready to groove.
“This one’s easy!” Jacob whisper-shouts. “This has to be the Dixie Theater downtown. Our band used to play there, and I wrote a couple of stories about it when I worked for The Ruston Daily Leader.”
We run to my car and all pile into the tiny Honda Fit hatchback. It’s zippy and fuel-efficient, if not the best car for tall Jacob and Brian.
As we drive, Brian asks quietly, “So what about the other parts of this clue? Being a star? Get ready to groove? I really don’t like the sound of that,” he says, voice ticking up an octave.
“I’ve got this!” Katie sings from the backseat.
Jacob leans forward and slides his arm around his fiancé’s shoulders. “Katie and I have been on stage with our band more times than we can count. We’ll do this one. Or if we all have to, we’ll take the lead,” he says with so much confidence that Brian’s shoulders slightly relax. My hand begins to slide across the console of its own accord, reaching to comfort him. But when I realize what I’m doing, I stop myself, unsure of why I feel the need to touch him.
When we pull up to the Dixie Theater, another car pulls up at the same time. We all jump out and run in, laughing like a bunch of teenagers. When we swing open the door to the theater, I notice that one of the other team’s members is the appropriately named Christy Dickson, my high school rival who practically spit venom whenever we encountered each other in the past. And, in one unforgettable competition, she nearly sent me to the hospital. But we’re adults now, and high school was more than ten years ago. So I straighten my shoulders and run in with my team, deciding to ignore her completely.
We’re the first to make it to the table set up for the scavenger hunt.
“Hey guys! Welcome to your first clue site of the night!” A young woman with black hair and a peppy disposition greets us. “For your first challenge, you will need to perform a full karaoke number. That means all four team members must sing and dance for an entire song. Only one performance at a time, so other teams who arrive after you will get to watch!” She says this like she just announced we won a million dollars.
Brian groans like someone just stabbed him in the gut with a spear. I turn to look at him, and he seems to have lost all color. I wince, unable to stop myself this time as I slide a friendly arm around his shoulders.
“Perk up, Brian, it will be okay. You and I can stand behind Katie and Jacob and just try to follow along. They will take the brunt of the attention.”
Brian’s only response is to lean into me. I press against him, the heat between our bodies seeping into my skin and touching a place in my stomach that I had nearly forgotten about, a place where butterflies and electricity stir together in excitement. It’s just the anticipation of the task, I decide.
“That’s not fair. We got here first,” a nasal voice whines behind us.
I turn to look and see Christy, hand on hip, eyes shooting daggers at me. I lift an eyebrow. So it’s going to be like that, is it? I guess it’s time to give the performance of a lifetime