“Lauren and Brad!”
Thank You, God.
Lauren—blonde, perfect highlights, probably has never had a bad hair day in her life—squeals and drags her boyfriend to the center. I recognize him from the meet-and-greet party and the Blue Ox team roster. Brad’s laughing, shaking his head like he already knows this is going to be a disaster.
They’re pulling up chairs. Setting up. Everyone’s laughing.
Maybe we’re safe. Maybe Maya will pick another couple, and we can just watch and?—
Derek takes the basket.
Oh…no.
His hand pauses inside. Fishing around. He pulls out a card.
Unfolds it.
His eyes meet mine.
And there’s something in his expression—calculating, testing—like he’s waiting to see if we’ll pass whatever test he’s set up.
“Brody and Chloe.”
Of course.
Ofcourse.
The room absolutely loses it. Cheering. Whistling. Someone shouts, “Let’s go, Candy!” And I’m going to die. Right here. We’re in deep…deep trouble.
I know it’s not right to pray for God to help you lie…but I’m half tempted to toss a prayer up for good measure.
Brody’s hand finds the small of my back. The touch sends electricity up my spine, jumpstarts my racing heart.
His voice is low next to my ear. “You okay?”
I nod because what else am I supposed to do? Say no? Explain that I’m legitimately having a minor panic attack because we’re about to be tested on how well we know each other? Our get-to-know-you date was cut short because of his dad’s hospital visit. Give a girl a break!
We make our way to the center.
Pull up chairs.
Sit.
Lauren and Brad are to our left, Maya and Derek facing us like game show hosts, the entire room watching.
Cool. Just relax.
Maya is practically vibrating with excitement as she pulls out index cards. At least someone’s enjoying this. “Okay, here’s how this works. There are five questions. Two for the boys, two for the girls, and one last one for you both. When I ask you the question, you’ll both write down your answer. You get points if you match. Most points wins.”
Someone hands us small whiteboards and markers. The kind teachers use. Very official. Very terrifying.
Brody’s knee presses against mine. Warm. Solid. He gives me this look—quick, assessing.How much do you remember from Barcelona? From Monday night. Fromanyof the conversations we’ve had.
Spoiler: probably not enough.
“First question!” Maya announces, holding up a card. “Ladies, this one should be easy for all of you. What is your partner’s jersey number?”
Oh. Easy.
