That’s the first thought I’ve had in the last five minutes that doesn’t hurt my brain.
“Screw this,” I say, stepping back. I wasted too much time trying to figure out the puzzle when I should’ve just picked a path and counted on my speed to get me there before anyone else. If I’d ignored the sign and still gone the wrong way, at least it wouldn’t be because I couldn’t solve the riddle. Now, people will see that Itried, which is worse.It’s better to not try at all than to try and fail.
I shut one eye, lick my thumb, and hold it out to the wind. Eeeny, meeny, miny… yeah, let’s go with that one.
Veering to the farthest right path, I take off as fast as my legs will go. Unfortunately, even with me at a dead sprint, the path seems to go on endlessly into the woods. Shit. Definitely chose the wrong road. My ears warm. That’s fine, Seyoon, just keep running, one foot in front of the other, don’t trip over the pebbles, ignore the camera peeking out behind a tree trunk, watch that turn there—
Finally, I break out of the path and onto a grassy bluff. High above me is an elevated wooden platform. A dozen cables extend from it and disappear into the foliage of the woods below. They’re like zip lines, I realize, but not the kind with harnesses. Instead of being strapped into a seat, you hold on to a rope and stand on a circular disk that rings around the bottom.
My excitement is dampened when I spot Stuart Little’s human counterpart climbing the ladder up to the platform.
“You beat me here?” I yell, making Dean startle and look down at me. His eyebrows jump like he’s just as surprised as I am. I hurry to clamber up the ladder and catch him, but he beats me to the launch platform.
I pull myself up and pause at the row of zip line cables. There’s a wooden sign in the middle with a big redWarning,but like hell I’m going to try and read the rest of it now. Which one am I supposed to take? It might be like the fork in the road, where they all lead to the same place, but through different routes. Dean runs to the one in the center. How does he know which one is right? Was it included in the riddle? Fuck.
He puts one foot on the mini circular disk at the bottom of his rope and glances back at me, still frozen with indecision. He cocks his head.
“You got the riddle wrong, didn’t you? Or else you wouldn’t be looking so confused,” he says.
I grit my teeth and run to the cable on the left. No… maybe the one next to it? “Shut up. I didn’t evenreadthe riddle, so there.”
The corner of his lips turn up, a glimmer of mischief flickering in hazel eyes that have been stoic up until now. I glare at his rope. Thatmustbe the right one.
I need to get on that one.
Dean grips his line and taunts, “Guess you won’t be beating me after all.”
He shifts his other foot onto the disk, and—without thinking—I leap at him and cling to his rope.
My stomach shoots into my throat as we soar over the bluff.
“What the hell!” he screams as the disk swings wildly under our combined weight. “Why would you get on this one?”
“I don’t know!” I shout back, clutching to the rope for dear life. “I figured you’d choose the right one!”
“Well, get off!”
“I can’t now, genius!”
The cable above our heads ducks below the line of foliage. We glide through a cleared row between the trees, hovering a few feet above the ground as the wind whizzes past us. My guess was right; I can see where the other cables twist and turn in longer paths before becoming parallel with ours again. This was the most direct route.
Because of how narrow the disk is, Dean and I are nose to nose, stepping on each other’s toes to stay on. I hold myself closer to the rope, wincing when my palms sting. Dean’s hands are practically ontop of mine, gripping so tight that his knuckles turn white. The line swings, and I bump against his chest.
“Shit,” he gasps.
He falls back. Before I can think, my hand shoots forward to fist in the fabric of his hoodie and pull him back on. The gash on my palm tears open at the movement, but I hardly notice, distracted by Dean’s wide-eyed look of shock. My face burns. I wrap my fingers around the rope again, focusing on the path ahead.
I see it now, a few hundred yards away: the end of the race. Camera crew, Garrett, and Blake cheer and holler behind a checkered banner. In front of them is a low platform where all twelve cable lines brake, and then a short dash to the finish line. Glee bubbles up my throat and escapes as laughter. No matter how much better at riddles or reading instructions or any of that boring stuff Dean is, I’m faster.
I’m going to win.
Then the cable above us snaps.
We scream as our line gives out. It’s a short drop, but the air still punches out of my lungs as my back smacks the forest floor. Dean is flung farther, rolling and tumbling to a stop ahead of me.
Through the ringing in my ears—did I actually hit my head this time? Damnit—the metallic whizzing of a hanger gliding down the neighboring cable makes me twist up from the ground to see who it is.
It’s Sunburn.
