For Real (26 page)

Attention, racers! This challenge is a HEARTBREAKER! If you spot a team waiting out a penalty during the relay, you may swap your own partner for either penalized racer, who will become your new partner for the rest of this leg of the race. You must start the relay over with your new partner. Each person may initiate only one swap. Are you cruel enough to break your partner’s heart?

Well,
this
clearly doesn’t apply to me. Why would I want to switch partners when I have Will? “You’re not going to trade me in for Philadelphia, are you?” I ask jokingly as I hand him his card, and he laughs and rolls his eyes. I’m pleased to discover that thinking about her doesn’t make me feel the slightest bit insecure anymore. I tuck my Heartbreaker card into my back pocket and forget about it.

The field is divided into lanes, with little Venus-on-a-clamshell statues marking the boundary lines. Each lane also has a referee with a whistle and a red flag. We pick a lane, and Will asks, “You want to go first?”

“Sure.” I tuck the apple under my chin, and I’m off.

My neck starts to sweat against the plastic almost immediately, and the apple threatens to slip, so I slow from a run to a smoother speed-walk. Will trots along next to me, cheering me on. I’m only about a quarter of the way across the field when I hear the shriek of a whistle. “Who has a penalty?” I ask, careful not to move my chin too much.

“Your sister,” Will says. “Keep going. You’ve got this.”

I manage to make it to the end of the lane and circle the statue without dropping my apple. Will moves in to make the transfer, and we both tip our heads to the right, as if we’re about to kiss. I pray I haven’t made the apple too sweaty to hold. “I don’t have a very good grip,” he says when he manages
to grab it. “Could you nudge it in there more tightly somehow?” I end up using my nose like a seal with a ball, to help him reposition the apple, and the whole thing is so ridiculous that we both end up giggling hysterically.

We set off in the other direction. Miranda and Samir are still sitting down in their lane, waiting for their penalty to be up, and I notice that my sister is staring at me very intently. I shoot her a sympathetic smile, but she doesn’t smile back. When her referee blows his whistle and lowers his red flag, she and Samir leap to their feet, and Miranda tucks her apple back between her knees. But before she’s taken three steps, it shoots forward like it’s been launched from a slingshot and rolls across the grass.

“
God
, Miranda, what’s
wrong
with you? When did you get so freaking
clumsy
?” Samir snaps as they sit back down. I hate that he’s yelling at her, but I have to admit I’m surprised, too. My sister’s usually really coordinated.

Will has no trouble keeping the apple in place under his chin. He reaches the end of the lane just as Tawny and Troy arrive, and he slowly crouches until his face is level with my thighs. I brace my hands on his shoulders, squat, and stick out my knees, and after a minute of awkward maneuvering, I manage to grab the apple between my legs. It stays there for a total of eight steps, and then it bounces off my shin and rolls into the next lane. Martin drops his apple at almost the same moment, and both our referees blow their whistles and raise their red flags.

“Sorry, I thought I had it,” I say.

“Don’t worry,” Will says. “It’s no big deal. You’re doing great.”

Miranda’s penalty ends moments after I sit down, and she immediately raises her pink Heartbreaker card high in the air. “I want to switch partners!” she yells.

Her referee jogs over, followed by a producer. “Who do you choose as your new partner?” he asks.

I expect her to pick Martin—it would be the best strategic move, since it would knock him and Zora out of first place. But instead she says, “I choose Claire.”

If this had happened while we were in Java, I would have been thrilled and flattered that my sister wanted to be with me. If it had happened yesterday, when I was with Troy, I would have been relieved. But everything is different now, and for the first time, the thought of racing with my sister actually makes me unhappy. This swap benefits her, but it doesn’t help me at all. Miranda knows how much I like being with Will. Is she trying to separate us on purpose, as payback for slowing her down yesterday?

“That’s not even allowed,” Samir says. “The teams have to be boy-girl, right?”

Miranda shoves her card in the producer’s face and points at the small print. “It says right here that I can swap my partner for
either
penalized racer. I want Claire. I can have Claire, right?”

The producer takes a step back, obviously put off by her aggressive tone. “Yes, same-sex partners are allowed for this challenge. Claire, Miranda is your partner for the rest of this
leg of the race. Samir, your new partner is Will. Please join him in the far lane.”

Samir looks anguished. “I have to race with a
guy
? Are you
kidding
me?”

“I can’t believe she’s separating us,” I say to Will. “This sucks.”

“She’s probably just intimidated by the hazardous level of awesome radiating from our lane.” He reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Thanks for an amazing morning, Dominique.”

I’m not sure if he’s referring to the kiss or the pastry licking or the fact that we’re near the front of the pack. But in any case, he looks genuinely sorry to be separating from me, which makes me feel warm all the way through. I hang on to his fingers for as long as I can. “We’ll be back together soon,” I say. “There’s probably just one more challenge after this one. I’ll try to beat you to the finish line so I can pick you for the next leg.”

He gives me a sly smile. “Oh, please. As if you could possibly beat me. This is my million dollars, after all.”

“Claire, let’s go!” Miranda calls. She sounds incredibly pissed, so I smile at Will one last time and run off to join her. I haven’t even made it to her lane before Tawny drops her apple and Will swoops in to steal her, leaving Samir to partner with Troy.

“Look how pissed Samir is,” I whisper to my sister gleefully.

“Let’s get this stupid relay over with,” she snaps, like I haven’t said anything. “Roll your pants up above your knees.
The apples are less slippery if they’re against bare skin.” She starts doing the same with her own.

If Miranda and I hadn’t been separated at the starting line, would she have been this bossy and demanding for the whole race? And why is she so pissed
now
, when she’s successfully gotten rid of Samir? For a minute, I consider using my Heartbreaker card to steal Will back as soon as I have the opportunity—I shouldn’t have to put up with my sister’s attitude when
I’m
the one who deserves to be upset. But Samir could pull ahead if we waste any more time, and neither of us wants that. I can suck it up for one more challenge.

I tuck the apple under my chin and set off across the field as fast as I can. “Do
not
drop that, or Samir will steal me back,” Miranda calls after me, like I’m planning to sabotage her or something.

As we do our first transfer at the other end of the field, I realize this isn’t the first time my sister and I have played this game. Our hometown used to have a lot of festivals with relay races when we were kids, and Miranda was always my partner, since I was too shy to interact with the other kids. Even though I’d forgotten all about those games until this moment, my muscles remember exactly how to work in sync with my sister’s. It only takes one smooth motion for her to grab the apple from me with her chin. Of course, those ridiculous, fumbling, giggling transfers with Will would have been well worth finishing the race a few minutes later.

Samir keeps a close eye on us the whole time, ready to steal Miranda back the moment we screw up, but we get through the first three laps without dropping our apple. The
last swap is pretty difficult, but when I lie on my back and Miranda stands over me, balancing herself with my hands, we manage the knee-to-knee transfer. She waddles quickly down the field, and when she crosses the finish line, I expect her to cheer or at least crack a smile—she’s safe from Samir for now. But she just gives me a businesslike high five and snatches the next envelope from our referee.

Make your way to the Pegasus fountain in Korinthos Square, where each team will find a wheelbarrow full of pomegranates. At Greek weddings, it is traditional to smash pomegranates on the ground—the scattering of seeds symbolizes fertility and abundance. You must smash your pomegranates until you find the one that has a small Around the World in Eighty Dates flag in the center, which you may exchange for your next instructions
.

Miranda grabs her pack and dashes toward the car, and I have to sprint to keep up with her. Before she slides behind the wheel, she pulls a map out of her bag and shoves it at me harder than necessary. “Navigate,” she says.

“I have my own map. Why do you always assume I’m not prepared?”

“Just hurry and tell me which way to go, okay?”

We talk of nothing but left and right turns until we arrive in Korinthos Square—the air in the car is so thick with our unaired grievances that it’s difficult to breathe, let alone speak. The plaza around the Pegasus fountain is sunny and
bright and full of laughing locals with drinks and ice cream, and it seems impossible that such carefree people could exist in the same dimension as my sister and I right now. Six wheelbarrows full of pomegranates are spaced at regular intervals around the fountain, and a small crowd has gathered around the one where Martin and Zora are enthusiastically smashing fruit. The juice seeps into the tan paving stones, making dramatic, bloody stains.

We pick the first wheelbarrow we come to, and Miranda snatches a pomegranate and throws it with both hands. It’s overripe, and it explodes against the ground, sending a shower of red juice onto my shoes. I smash the next one, and it’s surprisingly cathartic to watch seeds and pulp fly in all directions. After I throw a few more, unleashing my physical anger starts to loosen my tongue, and I turn to my sister. “So, is there anything you want to say to me right now?”

She doesn’t even look at me. “Um, not really. What are you talking about?”

“How about ‘I’m sorry’? That would be a good start.”

Miranda smashes another pomegranate, then stomps on it violently when it doesn’t break all the way open. “Seriously? You think
I
owe
you
an apology?”

“Yeah, I do, actually. You knew how much I wanted to be Will’s partner, and you saw how well we were doing together, but you just swooped in anyway and split us up like you were totally entitled.”

“I
was
entitled,” she says. “Swapping partners was the whole point of that challenge.”

“You could just as easily have chosen Martin or Zora, and that would’ve been the more strategic move if you wanted to get ahead of Samir, because—”

Miranda throws a pomegranate so hard half of it flies up and hits me in the leg. “I didn’t want Martin or Zora, Claire! I don’t care about
strategy
and
getting ahead
right now! I’m having the crappiest day ever, and I just wanted to get away from Samir and find a partner who might actually understand what I’m going through and sympathize with me a little! But I guess that’s too much to ask for from you, isn’t it? I kept dropping that stupid apple on purpose and waiting for you to step up and separate us, and you just ignored me and carried on with your happy little lovefest!”

Oh God, of
course
she was dropping the apple on purpose. I probably should have picked up on that. But after the fuss Miranda made about the dance challenge, her anger seems completely unfair. “That is such a double standard! Why would you expect me to help you when you just made this huge deal yesterday about how pissed you were that you helped me?”

“Because even if it hurt me, I did it anyway!”

“But I didn’t
ask
you to, Miranda! That was your choice! You can’t decide to do me a favor and then hold it against me!”

My sister grabs a whole bunch of pomegranates and throws three in a row,
splat splat splat
. One of them is so ripe that it squishes in her hand, and the bright red juice drips down her forearm like she’s just ripped out someone’s heart. “You’re the one who said we were allies no matter what, and
I was trying to be a good team member and actually
look out
for you. But I guess that doesn’t work both ways if it means spending two seconds away from your precious Will Divine.”

I shush her—Will and Tawny have arrived and are throwing pomegranates on the other side of the fountain. “He has nothing to do with this. Leave him out of it,” I hiss.

“How can I? This whole race is about
him
to you. I stupidly thought you were here because you actually cared about
my
feelings. But now you’re too busy making goo-goo eyes at Will to even ask me whether I’m all right!”

Will and Tawny let out a cheer—somehow they’ve found their pomegranate flag already. When Miranda sees me looking at him, she hurls a pomegranate directly at my foot. “You’ve known him all of one week, Claire! Is that really where your loyalty lies?”

“Are you seriously talking to
me
about loyalty?” I yell. “You sell me out every time we get in front of a producer! ‘Doing romantic challenges is going to be a
huge
stretch for Claire. There’s no way she can possibly deal with intimate situations.’ ”
Smash
. “ ‘I’ve spent my entire life jumping in to save my incompetent baby sister when things get too overwhelming for her.’ ”
Smash
. “You told that stupid fitting room story on camera! What were you
thinking
? Can’t you see how they’re going to use that to portray me as a naïve idiot?”

“It’s not like I made any of that stuff up, Claire!”

“But none of it matters! It’s not holding me back! We’ve been on this race for six days now, and there were literally five minutes that freaked me out! I’m not the scared little kid I was when you were seventeen, okay? And if you’d made
any effort at all to know me since you went away to school, you’d realize that!” There are hot, angry tears spilling down my cheeks now, and I don’t even bother to wipe them away. “God, what is it going to take for you to stop patronizing me long enough to actually
see
me?”