Dean smiles back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah.”
He’s been off all morning. In fact, ever since yesterday. No, since I vented to him about everything at stake with Umma. A familiar worry creeps up along the back of my skull, whispering into my ear that I’ve scared him off. I don’t remember everything I said that evening, but Dean probably heard,Hey, remember how I said you should team up with me because I’m really strong? Guess what, I’m actuallynot!
No, no, come on. That’s not fair; Dean is my friend. He’s proven he doesn’t think that way of me, even in my lowestmoments.
Carter groans, interrupting my doom-spiraling and Garrett’s millionth take. “Can you hurry up?” he snaps.
Garrett slumps in defeat. He tries to, at least, but it’s difficult with the pink floaty tube around his waist. Did I forget to mention the pink floaty tube? Yeah, that’s because I’m trying to pretend it’s not there.
Finally, we get rolling.
Players, congratulations on making it to the semifinals. It’s a good thing you packed your swimsuits, because things are about to get—
… I’m receiving word from my executive producer that I can’t say that things are going to get “wet.” But I digress.
Today’s challenge is the Aquatic Showdown: a three-part race across the lake. The first part is what I call the Tubes of Terror. Your first task is to hold on to a speedboat as our totally licensed driver takes you very safely to the floating dock in the middle, where the second leg of the triathlon begins: the Leap ofLake! Like, “leap of faith,” get it? There, you’ll put your physical skills to the test in this inflatable course, get to the dock on the other side, and swim the remaining half mile to shore for the third leg of the race.
Only three of you will be moving on to the finale after this. However, our friends at the bottom of the scoreboard don’t need to worry, because there aremajorpoints at play here. The first person to reach the shore wins… wait for it…wait… forty points. Second place gets thirty. Third gets twenty. And fourth, ten. Meaning, it’s still anyone’s game. How you perform today could bring you from dead last to the top of the leaderboard, and vice versa.
Everything rides on this challenge. And it’s a swimming competition.
I’ve never gotten so lucky in my life.
Dean raises his hand.
“Yes?” Garrett calls on him.
“I would like to split from my alliance with Seyoon.”
Huh?
My brain whirs to a slow, stalling, tripping to make sense of what I think I’ve heard.
I turn without being aware of it, as if somebody else is steering me by the shoulders. Vendredi’s jaw nearly unhinges as she stares at us. Even the crew members look shocked. One of the sound operators drops their mic and hurries to pick it back up. Carter looks ahead, uncaring. Dean doesn’t meet my eye.
Garrett’s grip on his floaty loosens, and it squeaks down his legs. “Excuse me?”
My senses stumble back into me with the force of a slap on the back. “Dean,” I say. A short laugh hiccups out of me. “Stop kidding around.”
He turns to me, having the gall to look apologetic. “We both knew this alliance would have to end sometime.”
“Well, yeah, but this is not the time! What are you thinking?” I gesture across the vast expanse of water in front of us. “You seriously don’t want to split points with me on this challenge? I’m a state-champ swimmer. You can barely doggy-paddle.”
“Seyoon—”
“I know I mooched off your points last challenge, but I’m going to make it up.” I step forward and reach out for his hand. He pulls away with a wince. Hurt digs spikes along my skin. “What happened to wanting to work together?Becauseof everything?” I throw his words back at him.
Cameras swarm us on every side, nudging Carter and Vendredi out of the way. I feel claustrophobic, stuck between a dozen empty black lens reflections and the cold, empty glaze in Dean’s eyes.
The muscle in Dean’s clenched jaw jumps. “Seyoon,” he grits out, like it pains him. “This is for the best.”
For a second, grief overtakes me.Just like that?I want to say.It’s over?
“But,” I utter quietly. Pathetically. The sadness burns my throat like a gulp of salt water. “I thought we were friends?”
I hate myself as soon as the words escape my lips and enter the dozens of mic feeds surrounding us. Dean winces and inhales deeply.
“Wewere. But now we’re rivals,” he says. “I’m… I’m sorry, Seyoon.”
