“I suddenly understand why you love it so much in the wilderness,” I say in a facetious tone. “It’s the only place big enough for your giant ego.”
“I do not have a giant ego.”
“You most certainly do,” I say. “You’re by far the most arrogant, smug man I’ve ever met. And I know Kanye West.”
“Really? Of the two of us, you thinkI’mthe one with an attitude?” Will lets out a frustrated chuckle. “That’s rich coming from someone who’s probably never even seen a washing machine.”
“You know what?” I ask, clearly looking flustered. “Shut up!”
“Great comeback, Arabella,” Arthur says, oozing sarcasm. “You really showed him.”
On screen, I continue yelling. “…I can’t bear another word of your self-satisfied, know-it-all commentary about the jungle and survival and… and… me! You don’t know the first thing about my life, so just shut up already.”
“Let’s get one thing straight. This is my show.” He stabs himself in the chest with his thumb. “Mine. And in case you hadn’t noticed, you need me, and not the other way around, so don’t tell me to shut up or to do anything else for that matter. Because if you do, I’ll happily leave you here to get eaten by leopards.”
My father turns from the screen and just glares in Will’s direction. Fuck me, this is the worst idea I’ve ever had.
“Oh really?!”
“Really!”
“You think that’s going to scare me?” I scoff. “I’d actually rather be torn apart by a pack of hungry leopards than have to suffer through another minute of listening to you drone on and on with that smug smile on your stupid face.”
“For your information,” Will says, “Leopards rarely travel in groups, and if they do, it’s either called a leap or a prowl. Not a pack!”
“She’s not wrong about the know-it-all thing, is she?” Father asks Arthur.
“Not a bit.”
Will turns and storms off with me stomping along behind him, imitating his voice. “I’m sorry. You probably don’t know what rent is. Oh, that’s rich coming from someone who’s never seen a washing machine.” Now, I’m holding up both middle fingers and scowling at his back. “I’ve seen washing machines, thank you very much. I own a television.”
I sink down into the couch while Gran hoots with laughter. “This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen! You made a complete arse of yourself, child.”
Onscreen, Will is telling me we have to rappel down a cliff to get to the place we’re going to camp for the night.
“I’ll go first so I can help you if you run into any trouble. Unless you want to go first? I don’t want to be sexist about it.”
“Just go.”
“Gladly. If you could just lean over the edge and film me while I make my descent, that would be very helpful.”
Shaky footage by me shows him confidently rappelling down the cliff while I mutter, “Show off.”
“Okay, your turn. I’ll film you and you go,” he calls.
“Perfect,” I murmur. “Make sure you get lots of footage of my sweaty arse in these baggy pants while I slam into the side of the cliff repeatedly. Or better yet, when my arms give out and I fall, killing us both. At this point, I’d welcome death so long as I take you out with me.” More footage of the ground while I grope around for a vine and say, “You don’t want to be sexist. Sure you do, BLEEP-BLEEP. Everything out here can kill you. Don’t touch anything and don’t drink anything and don’t eat anything except these putrid larvae. Oh, and don’t be here because I don’t want you here.”
I turn to Will with a sheepish grin, and he winks at me. “Don’t worry about it. I had it coming.”
My father decides now is a good time to chime in with, “I should say you did.”
Lovely. Thanks, Dad.
The footage switches to Will’s camera and he can be heard muttering, “Don’t fall and break your neck, Your Highness. It would be such a tragedy to rid myself of your royal uselessness.”
Brilliant.
* * *
