My hackles go up at her not using Yumi’s name. Ijustsaid it. I’m tempted to give a snarky answer, but a glimpse of the camera in my peripheral vision reminds me that anything I say or do will be used against me to build someone else’s dramatic arc. Production isn’t my friend. If I give them fodder for a mean girl narrative, they’ll take it, and I’ll be viciously harassed on social media for years to come.
“That was Yumi’s second try.” I put more emphasis on her name than necessary. “She got to the end on the last try. I’m not sure what was different that time.”
“Huh. I guess she’s just not—” Lucky for both of us (becauseI suspect that sentence would’ve ended in fighting words), Bee trails off as her focus is pulled to Logan. He emerges in a tight-fitting emerald outfit, his crepe button-up barely buttoned up at all.
I sit there, my vision blurring more and more with each passing moment of Logan’s dance. When the music comes to a stop and he’s handed a shiny gold envelope, I can physically feel the two-million-dollar prize slip out of my hands.
Then the Surfers run in. Which is bad. And fifteen minutes later, the Influencers. Which is worse. They’re followed shortly by some of the crew including Aliona, and I want to cry at the sudden realization that everyone is now in Buenos Aires. We’ve just blown an hour lead.
There’s cold comfort in the fact that the sit-outs from these new teams, the Surfer Dude and the Influencer Girl, are much nicer than Matt and Bee. The Surfer Dude, Joe, tells me that he and his girlfriend, Brooklyn, are from Southern California. She’s not much of a dancer, he says, but she’s pretty good at moving her body if I know what he means. The way he says it is goofy, rather than creepy, so I give him the courtesy of a laugh. Meanwhile, my eyes are fixed on the curtain, willing Yumi to make an appearance.
Rania and Kendell, the red team, turn out toactuallybe influencers, though she tells me they prefer “content creators.” I don’t give myself too much credit for correctly identifying them—there’s really nothing else they could have been. They have, and I quote, “a shit-ton of followers” that they call the Rankenphiles. Rania presents this to me like it’s funny, but if it’s a joke, I don’t understand it. Like I said, she’s nice, but I’m wary of them.High-energy teams, especially those with jobs that require performing for a camera, always do ten times more yelling than necessary.
My suspicions are confirmed when Kendell returns in even less time than it took Morgan, a literal professional dancer, and Rania shrieks like she’s been electrocuted. “Go, Kenken!” she cheers as he starts the dance by leading his female dance instructor into a spin.
I’ve seen this dance performed four times now, and not once has it started with a spin.
Rania cups her hands around her mouth and stands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “You got this, Kendycane! Woo!”
I like to think of myself as resilient.
Yes,The Adventureversehas been stressful. I’ve had to talk myself down off several panic-spiral-shaped ledges. And yet, thus far, I’ve persisted. But Kendycane? Kendycane breaks me.
As the instructor tries to stop him, Kendycane prances around her. I didn’t know that the tango was something you could doatsomeone. But here it is, happening right in front of me until Kendell finally lets his instructor drag him backstage.
Yumi finally comes out for her third attempt, and I grimace, recognizing the look on her face. It’s the look she gets after her relay team is DQ’d for someone else’s false start and she’s about to botch her individual race because she’s distracted by frustration. It’s the look Yumi gets after her sister, Mila, hits her kart with a red shell and Yumi falls off Rainbow Road just before the final lap. Repeated failure puts her off balance. She’s tilted. And Yumi always loses when she’s tilted.
If I don’t break the cycle, there’s no doubt we’ll get sent home today.
“Can I help her?” I ask Aliona, who stands beside one of the Sit-Out Cam operators. Sit-outs aren’t supposed to interfere with individual challenges. Teams have been awarded significant time penalties for so much as pointing out a dropped item in a delivery challenge. I want to help Yumi, but if Aliona doesn’t approve it, I’d be putting us in an even worse position.
Aliona shrugs, chin propped on her fist as she watches something on her tabletanddeftly telegraphs her impatience with me at the same time. Multitasking girlboss.
I press, “It would be good TV, and you did say it was our job to make good TV.”
“Fine. Go.”
I don’t even thank her, fearful that any further interaction might cause her to change her mind. I bound over to Yumi, tapping her dance partner on his shoulder. “Do you mind? Just one second.”
He glances at Aliona, who nods permissively. The man steps aside.
Yumi’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “What are you doing? Sit back down.”
“Don’t worry,” I murmur, placing an arm across her shoulders. I try not to notice the dress. It doesn’t work. Desperate times call for desperate measures. “I got permission, bossy.”
She shudders beneath my touch and I shouldn’t be so cocky about it, but they’re popping bottles in my brain’s executive office. I’m not even the one wearing a sexy outfit.
“If you’re not leading in tango, you’re following,” I say quietly into her ear. “All you have to do is move when I move. And stay close.”
Yumi makes a squeaking noise, pulling back to look me in the eye. “When did you learn to tango?”
I laugh, gesturing for her to get close to me again, waiting for her to fill the empty space in my arms for the starting pose. Once she’s settled herself before me and tucked her hands into mine, I say, “I didn’t. Trav says it to Trenise in Season Three, Episode Fourteen, ‘It Takes Two to Tango.’ ”
“Oh my God,” she scoffs a laugh. “You watch a single tango challenge and suddenly you think you can dance like Trav?” Yumi turns to look at me over her shoulder, exposing the long line of her neck.
“Dance? I’m not gonna dance with you, who do you think I am? I’m just hitting the reset button.”
“The reset button?” she repeats, confused.
