As he zips down and passes me, he smirks. Something in his hand flashes.
It’s the gold utility tool he had back at camp. A beam of sunlight glints on a sharp edge.
The realization of what happened helps me suck in a gasp of air, enough for me to put my hands in the dirt and push myself up to stand. Ahead of me, Sunburn hops gracefully off his rope and trots across the finish line.
Fuck!I can still get second, at least, if—
Where the hell did Dean go?
Instead of wasting time like me, Dean’s already up and racing toward the finish. A symphony of metallic whirring and whizzing surrounds me as the other contestants catch up, some zooming ahead, others shouting in complaint as their cables lead them through long, winding detours. Several others zip to the finish line now.
Fuck fuckfuck.
I kick up clouds of dirt. The straight shot path is like any hundred-meter dash I’ve run a million times before, but now it feels as if I’m sprinting through water. My breath escapes in uneven, jagged gasps. My tailbone and back twinge in pain every time my right foot hits the ground. Two more people fly past me on their cables, and I barely dodge getting rammed into by another coming in hot from behind. Everyone’s ahead of me—but there’s still a chance. Twenty feet ahead. Fifteen.
I’ve never had this view before. I’ve never been this far behind.
I can’t lose. I can’t be aloser.
Adrenaline screams through every vein, every muscle, every joint in my body, and I push myself faster than I ever have. I hurry past three people who are slow hopping off their zip lines.Come on. What if Appa sees this? You have to prove himwrong.
Mere feet away from the finish line, I catch up to somebody who’s running hard, but not as hard as me. Because I want it more. Ineedit more.
I lean forward on my very last stride and cross the finish line just in time. Seconds later, a few people run after me. I glance around and count.Two… Five… Seven…
My knees nearly give out as relief washes over me. I came in eighth. I made it.
Shame licks at my sides like hot oil. I tried so hard, yet I barely made it.
I may as well have lost.
7
YOU WANT ME TO HAVE YOUR BACK? THE THING THAT GOT JULIUS CAESAR KILLED?
DEAN
I watch Seyoon out of the corner of my eye, examining her splotchy flush and her exhausted stance, bent over and gripping her knees. Her gaze is fixed on the dirt between her shoes. She’s so stiff, I’m not even sure she’s breathing. I’ve never seen anyone run that fast.
More unfathomable than me placing second in a race isherscraping to make the cut at all. If I wasn’t still trying to calm my heartbeat, I’d rub it in her face. With class, of course. Not like she would.
Garrett blows his whistle in a happy tune. “Campers, I’m impressed! I—wait, wait, wait, hold on.” He straightens his blazer and turns so the closest camera gets his good side. He starts again.
Campers, I’m impressed! You all demonstrated some serious skill and agility. Well, those of you who didn’t fall in the pit holes, get washed down the creek, or fall off your zip lines. The rest of you? Nice work. We’re in for a seriously cutthroat season.
Unfortunately for those who came in last, this was your last hurrah with us. An assistant will show the four of you to the Loser Limo; your bags are already inside. That’s right, get out of here. Shoo!
One of the people who didn’t make it in time, a girl with dyed purple hair and watery eyes, sniffs. “Like, now?”
“No,” Garrett concedes. “We still have to film a going-away outro for you guys when we’re back at camp. Stick around for now. Just… maybe out of my shot.”
For the remaining eight of you, congratulations! You’ve made it through your first challenge. Now, for the exciting part: How many points have you earned? Let’s turn to the handy-dandy tally board that my buddy Luke has put together for us in real time.
A blond, lanky man who must be an executive assistant of some kind and doesn’t seem pleased about earning the title of Garrett’s “buddy” picks up a large board. The left side is numbered with places from first to eighth, while the right side has the points column. In between are tiny pieces of wood with our names carved on them, slotted into place.
