Chapter 19
I can see from where I’m standing that the Queen Ego symbol is indeed, at the top of every sheet. I could kiss him.
‘You star, Josh!’ I gush, clutching his arm with excitement.
‘Don’t mention it, sweetheart,’ he says, looking delighted. ‘Careful, Elliot’s jealousy might get the better of him if you don’t unhand me. And I’d like to live a little longer.’
I let go of him but Elliot completely ignores him anyway. ‘Question now is, how do we actually get up there?’ he asks, nodding up at the paper.
‘Oh, it’s not that high,’ Josh replies airily. ‘Just give me a little boost and we’ll be done in a jiffy.’
Elliot glowers at him. ‘You? Why don’t you give me a boost?’
‘I can barely lift a bowl of soup. What makes you think I could lift you?’ Josh asks very seriously. ‘You actually go to one of those gym places and throw balls around.’
Elliot visibly falters. ‘Fine.’
I’m willing to bet he hadn’t expected to lift up so many people today.
We decide it would be easiest for Josh to sit on his shoulders to unlock maximum reach potential whilst maintaining some semblance of safety.
I’m just thrilled they’re both here. If Hennie and I had been alone, I have no idea how we would have reached up there.
Elliot crouches down for Josh to clamber on awkwardly – his tall, willowy frame towering high above me as Elliot stands up slowly.
Elliot grits his teeth as he guides them both carefully towards the fence.
‘That’s great, Ell. Okay, I can reach them, I think – that’s perfect,’ he shouts as he reaches up towards the tabs, but his expression changes when he actually reads them.
‘They all have different messages written on them,’ he says, his voice shrill. ‘What do we do?’
Elliot is almost shaking under the duress of holding Josh up already. ‘Just pick one,’ he bites out.
‘One is in French,’ Josh notes with mild interest.
‘Not that one, then.’
Josh looks down at him indignantly. ‘My French is quite good, actually.’
‘Ham!’ I shout, trying to hurry him.
Without further hesitation, Josh rips one off cleanly. ‘Got one! Ready for my smooth landing.’
Elliot grunts and carefully crouches down to let Josh climb off him.
‘No more lifting for you today,’ I say, patting Elliot’s arm consolingly as he shrugs his shoulders with discomfort.
‘I hope that was worth it?’ he asks, turning to Josh, who is staring at the slip of paper with a blank expression.
‘Beats me,’ he replies, holding it out.
It simply reads:
Eighth and Farthest.
‘Huh. That’s helpful,’ Elliot utters.
‘What the hell are we supposed to do with this?’ I exclaim with a disbelieving laugh. ‘You can hardly call this a clue?’
Josh merely crosses his arms and seems to go into deep thought. ‘I suppose there’s a number of places it could direct you to. There’s Pitstop 8 in the Route 16 area, which is like a relaxation tent, and the area that’s furthest out would be the Light Tellers, I guess.’
‘I mean… it’s something.’ I’m happy with any ideas at this stage. ‘I’m starting to worry this hunt will never end… I’m so sorry this is taking up so much of your weekend, Josh.’
‘Enough of that,’ he says sternly. ‘Do you think I am having a bad time, Nora? Do you think I am devastated to be in this position? Running around on a treasure hunt around my favourite place on this earth with my friends? This might be the most fun I’ve had in decades,’ he insists, his eyes ablaze.
‘You have nothing to apologise for, cherub.’
I try to hold myself back from throwing my arms around him. And then I do anyway.
‘I guess we have two options, then,’ Elliot says, a light smile playing on his mouth as Ham lightly ruffles my hair in response.
Owen’s voice rings out and I turn to see Hennie still on his shoulders. ‘Tell me you have good news!’
Josh holds up the strip of paper in response, resulting in a happy yowl from Hennie.
‘Thank God, I was starting to get travel-sick sitting on Owen’s shoulders.’ Hennie says, stumbling off him.
Elliot and Josh fill the pair in on the latest clue and possibilities for the next location.
‘Well… if you’re thinking what I’m thinking, Ham,’ Owen says, rubbing his chin with a smile.
‘I think I might be thinking what you’re thinking.’
‘Care to share what you’re thinking that Josh is also thinking?’ Hennie demands.
‘We may well have some impeccable timing here,’ Owen says with a sly smile. ‘If we just happen to be searching around Pulse, we may also happen to hear Green Noise’s set, which starts at seven-fifteen.’
‘Impeccable timing,’ Josh echoes.
The name Green Noise instantly rings a bell and I look down at Hennie. Her expression is perfectly neutral, but I know her better than anybody.
I will never deprive her of the pleasure of drum and bass.
‘You’re going,’ I inform her.
She frowns, and I can tell she’s guilt-ridden. ‘I don’t have to.’
‘Yes, you do, actually. Legally,’ I whisper, sweeping her into a hug. ‘I insist on it.’
‘Hennie is a big fan too, you guys should all go together,’ I announce, then turn to Elliot with a grim look. ‘Which means you’re stuck with me again, I’m afraid.’
I know the situation can’t really be helped at this point, so at least I don’t feel quite so awkward about it.
I had also strangely savoured this afternoon with Elliot and don’t completely hate the idea of more time alone with him.
If I were to actually observe us as a pair and the interactions we’ve had today, we might even have looked like friends.
Are we friends?
He nods without a word, an almost undetectable smile still teasing his mouth.
We agree to stay in touch via the group chat, and make our way to the Jungle exit together before going our separate ways.
It’s quicker for the others to get to the Light Teller’s through the Firecrest stage area, whereas Elliot and I opt for a quieter route through the Yellow Camp towards Route 16.
It feels strange to be walking next to him without the drumstick linking us together.
And it’s even stranger that a part of me misses it – the feeling of safety and comfort that comes along with sharing it.
Keeping me tied to his orbit. I’ve gotten so used to him leading us through crowded pathways and directing me through more difficult areas that I can’t help but feel untethered now.
Without much further consideration, I pull the drumstick back out of my backpack and hold it out to him.
Raising his eyebrows a fraction, he takes his end without any comment and I ignore the small, warm glow of relief that swells inside me as we walk in tandem once again.
The sweltering sun starts to cool and I finally feel like I can take a deep breath, my grateful lungs expanding to their fullest. And I realise that I actually feel more at ease within the festival than I ever have.
Steering clear of large areas and densely packed crowds is easier thanks to Elliot’s navigation and efforts, and I know I always have the opportunity to stop and take a pause if needed.
It does still feel like an exercise in bringing my adrenaline to its limits, but it feels a little like I’ve found a way to live inside of that feeling here.
Elliot and I fall in and out of easy conversation, and when we walk in companionable silence, it feels oddly… comfortable.
When I realise we haven’t eaten for a while, I eagerly steer us in the direction of a glossy camper van that has the words churros lit up in lights.
‘I desperately need sustenance,’ I beg, dragging him behind me.
‘I thought we were in a hurry to win your tickets?’
‘We are, but I need sugar. My life hangs in the balance.’
He lets me lead us confidently to the counter, but steps in front of me when we arrive at the front to order a large portion for each of us; with chocolate sauce for me, salted caramel for him.
They’re handed to me shortly after, wrapped up in crisp, white paper, speckled with brown sugar and glistening in a dark-golden hue. I nearly moan with anticipation.
‘Letting go?’ Elliot asks, gesturing down at the drumstick.
Ignoring him, I desperately attempt to lift the casing up to my mouth to try to take a bite of one of my churros.
‘Oh my God,’ Elliot murmurs with an exasperated laugh, tucking his own churros under his arm to reach over and easily pluck out one of mine, holding it in front of my face.
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ I’m mildly horrified but find myself giggling when he points it closer to my lips.
‘Hold still, princess,’ he commands, his voice wobbling with mirth as the churro moves unsteadily towards me.
I open my mouth wider as he places it gingerly into my mouth, and I can’t resist bearing my teeth when I bite down on it and shaking my head wildly, not unlike a rabid animal. His blue eyes alight with mischief, he grins and throws the rest of it into his mouth. I gasp in mock outrage.
‘That was mine, you cad!’
He shrugs, happily chewing on my churro. ‘Well, I do have a reputation for “stealing” from you,’ he says with air quotes. ‘I thought that was just our thing?’
‘Seems to be. Honestly, I long for the days when I didn’t have a thief attached to my person.’
‘Well, you shouldn’t have such valuable goods,’ he says lightly with a cocked brow.
There’s a small fire in my belly as he studies me, with what looks like a challenge in his piercing eyes. I lick the sugary residue off my lips and narrow my eyes back at him.
‘You knew I caught it first, didn’t you?’
He shakes his head resolutely. ‘I never said that.’ He dips his head to snatch another churro from his own wrapper with a grin.
His smile is infuriatingly infectious. For some reason I can’t stop my own smile from growing as our eyes remain fixed on each other.
‘I think you know it to be true.’
He shrugs again. ‘I don’t claim to know anything.’
‘Your story would never hold up in a court of law,’ I say.
‘I really shouldn’t be talking about this without my lawyer present,’ he replies through a mouthful of churro.
‘You’re so annoying,’ I spit back, wrestling the drumstick from his grip to quickly shove it under my arm for safe keeping. I immediately pick up a fresh churro and dip it proudly into his salted caramel sauce.
‘Hey!’ he objects, but doesn’t pull it away.
‘Yeah, I know,’ I tease, biting off a mouthful. ‘Hurts, doesn’t it?’
‘Hmm. Feels fine, actually,’ he says. ‘We’re just sharing, after all.’
‘I just stole precious caramel from you. Stealing is not the same as sharing.’
‘No, of course not. And yet, it feels like it is with us,’ he notes thoughtfully, pointing the end of a churro at me.
He is baffling, and this leaves me no choice but to throw the last bite of my churro at his head.