A knock on the door cuts through Missy’s dramatic moment. “You two okay in there?” Ji asks. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t having a funeral without me. I’ve got experience planning those things, you know. Also, Mrs. Delgado is gone. You’re safe to come out.”
“Thank goodness,” I breathe in relief.
“Well then, I think we’re done here.” Missy pierces me with a hefty dose of contempt before motioning to the door. “Go ahead.”
I eye the brass doorknob. “No, I insist. Ladies first.”
“No, really, I want to see how Colton Downing opens a bathroom door.” She raises her eyebrows in challenge, taking full advantage of my phobia. “You know, I’ve always found it interesting how people touch the faucet handles with dirty hands, then wash their hands, then touch the same dirty handles to turn off the water. I bet we’re carrying those germs all over the house. Starting with that doorknob.”
I clear my throat and look away from her. Then, I pull a tissue from the box next to the sink, wrap it around the doorknob, and pull the door open, as per my usual bathroom escape method.
“Oh my stars.” Missy’s eyebrows hike up her forehead. “You do know there will be no Lysol wipes on the island, right? How are you going to survive in the jungle for eighteen days?” She pesters me as she follows me out of the bathroom and to the kitchen where I discard my infected tissue in the trash can.
“I think the more appropriate question is how am I going to survive living withyouin the jungle for the next eighteen days.”
Chapter 3
MISSY
· THREE WEEKS LATER ·
If someone told me I’d be entering the Denver Airport for an eighteen-day trip with nothing but a backpack that wasn’t even full, I’d say they were telling tall tales. But with Marie Kondo as my guide, I managed the impossible, narrowing down all my belongings into whatSunsets and Sabotagedeemed “the necessities.” And by necessities, they mean three preapproved personal items, any doctor-approved medications, glasses/contacts, and the clothes on our backs. And no, I didn’t forget to mention hygiene products. Besides basic bathroom toiletries, all other hygiene products “must be earned” on the show.
I rub my fingers against my palm. Ever since the black SUV dropped me and Colton off at the airport tonight, I feel like my hands have already acquired a layer of grime and sweat. I can only imagine the hardcore cringe Colton is experiencing as we walk farther into the germ pit that is the airport. I smile to myself. That is one aspect of this partnership that I am looking forward to watching. High-quality entertainment, if you ask me.
I hoist my special editionSunsets and Sabotagebackpack farther up my back, my three personal items jostling around as I do. When it came down to it, I’d chosen two four-by-six-inch photographs as my first two items: a picture of my friends all squished into one picture at Paige and Jordan’s wedding last year and a picture of The Red Curtain building standing tall behind a hundred community volunteers that gathered underneath its awning for a picture before adjourning inside to celebrate the participants of last year’s Pine Lakes Special Olympics. There was no better community staple than that building, and I was going to keep it that way.
Both pictures are the perfect motivation to get me through these eighteen days as the victor ofSunsets and SabotageSeason Twenty-Three.
And the third item, well, that was easy—a razor. Sorry, Lucky Louis, but I wasn’t about to go all Chia Pet on national television. I’ll have to pick up a new lucky item when I get to the US Virgin Islands.
I look over at Colton, wondering what he’s chosen as his three items, and find his backpack looks as empty as mine. As teammates, we look nearly identical in our matching show-issued outfits that feature our team color: teal.
We both wear white tennis shoes with a fitted shirt, swim trunks (or, in my case, a one-piece swimsuit with swim shorts), and a windbreaker, all of which are black and lined with bands of teal, but only the windbreakers sport a largeSunsets andSabotagelogo on the back. Looking at our outfits, I’m suddenly thankful that our team color is not yellow, or else we might be mistaken for two bumblebees.
We also have on teal bandanas that we must have somewhere on our person throughout the show. Colton’s got his bandana wrapped around his arm like one would tie a tourniquet. Mine is tied like an ascot around my neck, making me feel like Robert Irwin’s cute little sidekick. It’s giving all the wilderness survivor vibes, and I’m here for it.
Colton and I finish checking into our flight at the airline’s kiosk well ahead of schedule. We’re in the process of making a leisurely stroll to security when we hear a loud, and very echoey, cheer coming from a nearby lobby. I swivel toward the noise, not believing my eyes when I do. It’s nearly ten p.m., yet just outside of the security line stands a group of people I know all too well, holding a massive white banner that has “Good luck, Colton and Missy” painted across it in giant teal letters.
Colton chuckles beside me and instantly heads for the large group with a big ole smile on his face, but I can barely move. I scan the cheerful crowd, finding so many familiar faces—Ji, Miles, Katie, Jordan, Paige, Jordan’s mom and stepdad, Colton’s parents, as well as some of his extended family, some neighbors, old high school teachers, and of course, Mrs. Delgado. It feels like half of Pine Lakes is here. The sight overwhelms me, bringing a sheen of tears to my eyes.
I watch Colton get absorbed into the mass of friends and family that drove forty-five minutes from our hometown just to see Colton and me off, and I finally step forward, slack-jawed, with nothing but shock running through my veins.
I only make it halfway to the group before Paige and Ji run to me.
“I can’t believe you guys came to see us off!” I squeak out in disbelief.
“Of course we’d come see you off.” Paige beams, but her smile quickly fades. “You okay, Missy?”
“I’m just … I can’t believe it!” I echo, wide-eyed.
Ji chuckles. “Why are you always so surprised when we come to support you?”
A lump of emotion rises in my throat. I wrap my arms around Ji and Paige, and subsequently Paige’s adorable little baby bump, and hug my friends tight, knowing that one day these wonderful people will go their separate ways, and it’ll just be Missy against the world once more. But for now, I soak in this moment with all the gratitude I can muster.
By the time I’ve extracted every ounce of serotonin from my friends, I let them go.
Paige rubs her belly, every inch of her face glowing. Pregnancy looks fantastic on her. “You better be taking a million mental pictures.” Paige’s features turn serious as she points a finger at me. “I want every. Single. Detail. Every single one! I want to know what it smells like on Sabotage Island. I want to know the consistency of the sand. Powdered sugar or pebbly? I want to know all the behind-the-scenes hidden secrets that the show doesn’t tell. And you better be bringing me Niall Bose’s autograph on a banana leaf.”
