Instead of responding, Matt shrugs off his pack, helps Morgan remove hers, offers her his hand, and transforms into a different person.
The worry lines on his face melt away as he leads her to the empty area in front of the check-in desk. By the time they’ve posed, feet turned out, and Matt begins humming a tune I vaguely recognize from amusement park commercials, he’s grinning.
And I think I see it then, too. More. The love she pulls out of him. His animated expressions, the way they move perfectly in sync, the confidence with which he meets our eyes like we’re a panel of judges.
Yumi lets out a whoop when Matt spins Morgan out, and he fuckingwinksat her before his eyes settle back on Morgan. He draws his partner in close, and they fly across the shiny tile, avoiding the crowd they’ve involuntarily attracted.
Without breaking his rhythm for a second, Matt easily flips Morgan over his shoulder, spinning to catch her hands the moment she lands and launching right back into a bouncy shuffle that she mirrors.
It’s mesmerizing. The moment it’s over, I want to watch it on repeat.
They bow to the clapping crowd of strangers as it disperses, Matt looking over at Morgan, pride shining in his eyes. He twirls her one last time, bending down to give her a kiss on the forehead. When he looks up the scowl is back, like we’re all Morgan’s shitty ex-partner and he just proved us wrong in the most badass way.
That’s when I really see it. The love is the grumpiness. Morgan and Matt both wear their hearts on their sleeves. It’s just that Morgan’s is a friendship bracelet and Matt’s is a smartwatch. And I wasn’t looking for a watch. I was looking for a bracelet.
As I reflect on this shift in worldview, I notice Matt andMorgan’s cameraperson filming them intently, even though they aren’t doing anything. Their connection is so obvious, it practically radiates off them. I scan the other two couples, finding Ashley behind Marina with his arms wrapped around her, and KC and Gabriel chatting softly with their heads bent together.
But me and Yumi? We stand a foot apart, not talking. Not even interacting. We aren’t in love. And it’sclearthat we aren’t in love. We need to change that.
Chapter 14
Get Out There
The flight to Paris isnearly ten hours long, and while that does mean we get a brief respite from the cameras as the crew take their union-mandated breaks from us, I’m sure I don’t have to explain how much my ADHD bodylovessitting still for prolonged periods of time without any distractions. The entertainment screen is off-limits for “social isolation purposes,” though I’m not sure how much insightDungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieveswould actually give me into Parisian culture. We’re also not allowed to so much as look at the in-flight safety pamphlet, lest it contain some secret treasure map directly to Jonathan St. Pierre.
Wanting as little to do with me as possible, Yumi nodded off against the window before the flight even began taxiing out, or at least she pretended to. She’s truly knocked out now, though, with her head slumped at a neck-stiffening angle, snoring softly. And I’m reminded how broken our dynamic is every time I get up to use the bathroom—my only respite from literal bone-aching boredom—and pass the Dancers playing card games or the Cowboys curled up into each other.
I can’t even sleep because I’m terrified to take my eyes off our bags for too long. Way back in Season 5, one team fell asleep on aplane and didn’t realize until disembarkation that their packs had been stolen, passports included. I intend to run this entire competition with my backpack strap twined around my leg like a maypole ribbon.
I resort to watching the toddler across the aisle play a fruit merge game on his dad’s tablet until he falls asleep. Then I’m left with nothing but the little graphic of our plane, inching across the Atlantic painfully slowly. Adventurers always say the waiting is the worst part of the show—waiting for transportation, for your crew to finish their bathroom break, for other teams to be done with their interviews—and while I’d believed them, I hadn’t trulyunderstooduntil now. No challenge could be worse than this. On this plane, I am an unmagical thing, impatiently waiting.
By the time the captain announces our initial descent, I’m so full of kinetic energy that I don’t even mind the way the clouds have congealed into one dark, ominous blob over Paris. It’s the kind of sky that promises rain and delivers on that promise violently. We hurtle through a curtain of water, droplets exploding against the glass and obscuring the outside world, which I suppose rules out the possibility of the clue being seen from the airplane like it was in Season 19’s Beirut challenge.
Yumi wakes with a jolt at a particularly rough wave of turbulence, her head bonking against the window. Dazed and half-asleep, she blinks softly at me once before the gentle, beautiful face I recognize hardens into one that’s become more and more familiar lately. Her lip curls, cheeks sucking inward—my very existence sour on her tongue.
Then she spots the camera, peeking above Petter’s and Bo’s seatsin front of us like a nosy neighbor spying over a garden wall. She startles, her expression flickering in a Goldilocks-esque hunt for the right feeling. Too resentful, too kind. Scared, and then scary.
“Bad dream?” I offer.
Relief splashes across her face. “Worst dream I’ve ever had,” she says, shaking her head. “We here?”
“Just about.”
On cue, the fasten seat belt sign dings on, and shortly after, wheels hit tarmac. The landing isn’t smooth by any means, but given the Biblical-level deluge outside, I’m just grateful the plane didn’t skid off the runway, break into a million pieces, and kill us a fiery tragedy that would put an end toThe Adventureversefranchise forever.
I pull my bag into my lap, trying not to let the constellation of worries I have show on my face. It’s the first challenge and I’m already nervous about money, about time, about whether we chose the right task. We can’t go home first. It would be worse than not coming on the show at all. If we get to the Checkpoint—the designated finish line of each Adventure, where one team gets sent home—and JSP tells us we’re last, I’ll be taking a full break from reality. A vacation in the void, and with any luck I return home with amnesia.
We can’t lose now.
We can’t lose ever.
I glance at Petter and Bo, making sure they’re ready to go. The sound of the rain battering metal is distracting. My leg bounces, driving the top of my pack into my chin as I survey the other passengers. The old couple a few rows in front of us willprobably be slow getting up. We can cut them off, but if the camera gets separated from us, will we be penalized?
“Little warm in here, huh?” Yumi prompts out of nowhere, her tone suspiciously casual.
The rain is so loud, it’s hard to think. But yeah, I guess it is kind of hot.
“You want the fan on you?”
