“Of course. Whatever you want, we’ll do it together.”
“Always? You promise?” I say, with all the trust in the world.
“Promise.” But in that moment, Mama’s eyes dart away from mine, sadness tugging at her tired features.
I should have known then, but it wasn’t until I watched her through the back of my aunt’s car, tears streaming down my face, that I knew why Mama had looked away that day. She’d had no intention of us being an “always.”
As my aunt and I passed the neighboring mobile home of the Lowreys with their four wild kids, and grumpy Jim, who was forever sitting on his broken-down wicker chair, I’d called for Mama again and again, not caring what my neighbors or aunt thought of me. I just wanted her. Mama. But she never looked at me. Not once. Her face was a stone mask as she kicked the small mound of dirt that was once a patch of petunias outside our single-wide. Then she opened the screeching front door and disappeared inside.
A pathetic whimper breaks loose, bringing me back to the present. I don’t know if it’s the pain-filled memory or the pain in my foot that causes me to tremble, but the wooden block beneath me starts to teeter. I nearly cry out with how much it hurts.
I’d seen challenges like this onSunsets and Sabotagebefore. More often than not, I’d sit on my couch and remark on how simple the challenges seemed or how the losing contestant could have held on a little bit longer or that the pain they were feeling couldn’t be that bad, but boy, is it bad.
I stabilize once again. But my breaths thin into short, shallow gasps. I want so badly to give up on everything, just like I did when Mama sent me away.
In a panic, I look up and make eye contact with Maria, who’s sitting next to Bill in her amber-colored seat. She gives me a small thumbs-up as she mouths the wordsSeason Nineteen.
Season Nineteen?I think back, recalling the season that consisted solely of sets of twins. In my brain, I sort through all the important events and people during that season and come up with a name. The Channing twins. Or more importantly,Charlie Channing. He’d been part of a Black Box Elimination in which he’d had to balance both of his feet on two ropes until he or his opponent fell. The challenge was long, and it was clear from both the contestants’ strained faces that it was also painful. However, Charlie had used an interesting method to keep his mind off of the challenge. He told jokes, refocusing his attention to things of a lighter nature rather than getting trapped in the pain of it all. That’s how he won.
Paige’s laughter fills my mind. I remember us sitting on her bed as we watched that episode, laughing until tears streamed down our faces. It was a brilliant strategy. But what can I do? I can’t tell jokes. I can’t tell stories.
I think of what Paige would do in this situation, and the answer comes easy. Paige would sing, so that’s what I do. I sing, loudly and wildly off-key.
Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” streams from my mouth, whitewashing the gentle rustle of trees and the hum of jungle insects. One glance around the half circle of contestants tells me that I’m better off keeping my gaze fixed on Maria, whose mouth parts open excitedly as she scoots to the edge of her seat. I imagine a little Pomeranian tail wagging happily behind her for all the joy she exudes.
A rush of adrenaline courses through me, making the pain in my foot fade into the background. Juliet from Team Violet breaks her concentration and looks in my direction, her face scrunched in confusion as she wobbles ever so slightly.
And then I hear it, the voice of a male tenor sounding from behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know that it’s Colton’s voice joining in on the chorus. Our voices sound like a pair of dying donkeys, but they are quickly joined by Maria, then Bill. Soon, Joseph starts clapping along and Tyrone beatboxes, adding a little oomph to this nearly unrecognizable rendition of Dolly’s classic.
I can seeSunsets and Sabotagestaff members chuckle behind cameras, unable to contain their laughter. Even Heartbreaker and Tearjerker manage to smirk and bob their heads along to the beat. And Team Fuchsia, well, they’re Team Fuchsia. They’d only be smiling at me if they had me in a chokehold.
To my surprise, Juliet begins to sway. All singing stops as everybody homes in on the contestant from Team Violet. And before I know it, Juliet’s feet hit the ground.
Niall’s voice swoops in the moment she touches the wood platform. “Team Violet is eliminated. And Team Teal lives to see another sunset!”
I immediately hop off the block of wood and flex my foot, feeling my indented skin scream out in agony. But it’s over.
Without losing momentum, the Black Box Meeting rolls forward. I feel torn as I watch Team Violet exit the stage, never again to set foot onSunsets and Sabotage. They are so sweet. But the show leaves no time to mourn their loss. Quickly, Colton and I are motioned to our teal seats, where we are one of only five teams remaining—Amber, Lime, Ruby, Fuchsia, and us.
Soon after, we watch as Team Ruby chooses their reward for coming in first in the Mayday Challenge today. They take their time deciding whether they want a team upgrade in the form of food or to sabotage another team for the next Mayday Challenge. For a moment, their eyes scan the remaining teams, and I grip the armrest, not knowing if Colton and I can survive another organized sabotage like the bungee cuffs. But to my great relief, Team Ruby chooses the upgrade, allowing them to get a day’s worth of airplane meals.
On the walk back to base camp, I try to tell myself that we’re safe. That our spot in this game is secure. But even though Colton and I survived the day, there is every possibility that America could rank us last again. If we don’t change something soon, we’re as good as sunk.
Later that night, I find myself nestled between a sea of sand and a sky full of stars. Nearby, a fire blazes brightly in its respective pit, casting a gentle light over me as I sit farther down the beach where the ocean kisses my toes.
While I’d normally join the other teams as they gather and talk around the firepit, I choose this moment to recenter myself, to breathe. From the coconut hunt, to the bungee cuffs, to the foot-throbbing Black Box Elimination, it’s like I’ve lived an entire week in a single day. But here, at the water’s edge, with the salty sea breeze combing through my hair, time slows.
I wrap my arms around my knees and tilt my chin up until my world feels consumed by the diamonds sparkling in the sky. Back home, in Pine Lakes, I live right up against the Rocky Mountains, which affords me a pretty spectacular view of the stars every now and again, but these stars on Sabotage Island are so bright and sparkling, they easily put my Lucky Louis to shame.
“Can I join you?”
My eyes flick behind me to see Colton standing several feet away. Despite taking an insanely long wash in the ocean this afternoon, that had no doubt fallen short of his cleanliness standards, a stripe of dried mud still runs from his neck to just behind his ear.
I nod, and Colton takes a seat next to me. For the first time in a long time, I don’t have anything to say to him. Nothing snarky or immature comes to mind—I just feel blank inside. Because really, what else is there to say after I laid out my disdain for Colton so clearly in the jungle? We were two volcanoes, and nowthat we’ve both erupted, there’s nothing left inside of us to spew out.
For several long moments, nothing but the crinkles of my windbreaker mar the soft sounds of the ocean. I end up tilting my head to the night sky, once more taking in its beauty. Colton does the same.
“Scorpius,” Colton says softly, without any additional explanation.
