I lift my marker up and pull the trigger; the teal paintball to his stomach seems to do a thorough job of shutting him down. He stumbles backward with the impact, and I prep my marker andpull the trigger once more for good measure, helping his descent to the ground, until he’s sprawled on the jungle floor.
“What were you about to say?” I ask as I lean down and grab his marker, shooting his remaining three paintballs into the dirt. “Looks like your time’s up.”
A strand of expletives streams from his mouth, but this time, it’s Missy’s paintball that silences him.
“Ow,” he grunts.
“I knew I had one more in there.” She pats her marker like one would a puppy that’s been on its best behavior.
Seconds later, a horn sounds, signaling the end of the game. I push my mask up. Without another word, the disgruntled Tearjerker clambers to his feet and stomps away. A drone follows him while another lingers behind to watch us.
Missy pulls her face mask off, and I walk to the base of the wide tree and reach my arms up for her. She plants her hands on my shoulders, and I ease her to the ground.
I narrow my eyes at her in jest. “Of course you’re a good shot.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me, Colton Downing,” she teases.
I brush a thumb across the smooth skin of her unbandaged cheek, feeling her warmth beneath my fingertip. “I’m looking forward to finding out.”
I bend my knees, scooping Missy up and cradling her between my arms. Without hesitation, her left arm makes its way around my neck, and I position her closer to my chest. She feigns an adoring smile.
As we walk back to where we started the challenge, we discuss the happenings of the last ten minutes. I’m surprised to find that I like Missy and me talking animatedly about our day, her soft, sweet scent surrounding me, the way her leg bounces up and down as I carry her, as if she just can’t contain her energy. Somehow, I feel like I can fully breathe around her, and yet, Ican’t breathe at all. It’s a heady combination—one that’s bound to end in disaster.
Chapter 18
MISSY
· DAY 12 ·
I lie in my bunk bed, staring up at the bars above me that hold up Colton and his thin mattress. I can’t help the smile that blossoms on my face. Despite a throbbing ankle, I had fun today. After today’s Mayday Challenge, everyone seemed to be in high spirits. Well, with the exception of Legend and Silver, who’d lost an ally when Team Ruby was eliminated from the game.
Not only did Tearjerker and Heartbreaker end up coming in last in the paintball battle, but they were also ranked lowest in America’s votes, which meant there was no Black Box Elimination tonight. I didn’t know I could feel so relieved watching someone be eliminated from the game as I hadTearjerker and the stupid wink he sent me before stepping off the platform. My body trembles at the thought. Never did I imagine I could be played so hard by someone in this game, but then again, that is sort of the theme of my life. Trusting only to be trampled on.
I shake my head. Those are thoughts for another time. Tonight, I want to focus on the day’s wins. Like how Colton and Tyrone taught me, Joseph, Bill, and Maria how to play a game they learned at summer camp called “bunny bunny” that had us all in fits of laughter, or the way Maria stood guard over me during Mayday Challenge Three like an avenging angel, ready to protect me at all costs, or how Colton and I came in second in America’s votes tonight, or how Bill and Maria got the much-deserved win today by having the least amount of paintball splatters on their clothes, allowing them to choose an upgrade in the form of a time advantage for the next Mayday Challenge.
With happy thoughts to warm my insides, I pull my blanket up to my neck, attempting to warm my outsides against the island’s trade winds. After tonight’s Black Box Meeting, a few of us had gone and washed off the day’s grime in the ocean before heading to bed. Now, with damp hair and a partially dried swimsuit, I am regretting that decision with every tropical gust that feels like icy winds against my body. By the sounds of rustling plastic mattresses from the neighboring bunk beds, I’m not the only one struggling to get comfortable.
“Oh man.” Tyrone moans from his bottom bunk.
“What’s wrong?” I hear Maria’s concerned voice through the darkness.
“It’s the pizza,” Tyrone says with a dazed voice. “It was just so good.”
All at once, boos and groans erupt from the rest of the airplane. Apparently, we’ve all been awake.
“The gooey cheese!” Tyrone yells through the grumbling voices.
I see a shadow of something soar from a top bunk bed and land squarely on Tyrone’s face.
“Aw, Bill, I was just thinking I needed an extra pillow. Mmm, it even smells like you,” Tyrone says.
I can’t help but chuckle.
“But you know what else smelled good?” Tyrone adds.
“No!” multiple people say in protest.
“That warm bread. Mmm, so tasty.”
