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“Horseshit!” one of the players yelled, pounding his stick against the sand.
My heart hammered as I pressed both hands over my mouth, rooting for Archer for the first time in eight years. Other women yelled encouragement to their partners, but all I could do was watch and silently hope.
Suddenly, Archer hunched his shoulders and took off. Rather than hitting the puck with the stick, he kept the stick on it, easing it over the sand as he ran.
Other players saw him and imitated his strategy, but Archer kept his head start. When he reached the goal, he shot the puck into it and a red lamp on top lit up. He grabbed the flag and took off toward me.
I thought I might be sick. I’d played volleyball in middle school and would never forget spiking the ball into the net and losing a big game for my team. I couldn’t bear the thought of choking this time, not with so much on the line.
As Archer approached, holding the flag out toward me, I took a deep breath in and let it out.
“Come on, Lo,” he said, passing me the flag. “Keep your head in it.”
I tucked the flag into the side of my bikini bottoms and tied it into a loose knot, wanting my arms free for swimming. Then I ran into the water, hearing other women close on my heels.
Swimming fast was hard. I could see other swimmers in my peripheral vision, but I remembered Archer’s words and focused on every stroke.
Finally, I made it to a floating platform, winded as I hauled myself out of the water onto the wood planks.
Someone was jumping up and down and cheering on another platform nearby—Andrea. I’d known she would win. Frantically, I untied the flag from my suit and attached it to the empty pole, looking around to see how I’d fared.
There were still women in the water. I counted flags. I’d come in sixth.
Sixth!Me. I covered my face with my hands, crying tears of relief. Somehow, I’d done it.
Once the last two teams to finish were confirmed, Josh gave us the okay to swim back. Again, I was gassed when I finished. And damn, was it hot here. I put my hands on my knees and took in a few deep breaths.
“Great job, Lo,” Archer said, patting me on the back.
I stood and gave him an apologetic look. “I lost your lead.”
He shrugged. “You did what you needed to do. We’re still here.”
Josh made a show of telling Rod and Andrea about the prize they’d won, reaching into the wood chest and pulling out pillows, fresh fruits and vegetables, and the kicker—a giant tin of beef jerky.
I groaned, my stomach growling.
“Don’t sweat it,” Archer said. “That stuff’s loaded with sodium.”
He loved beef jerky.
Josh let us fill our canteens from a giant water cooler and then sent us back to camp. We were rationing our rice, so I didn’t even have that to look forward to.
“I was thinking fish for lunch?” Archer said over his shoulder as he led the way. “Maybe with a side of fish, and for dessert, some more fish?”
I smiled. Maybe he belonged a notch above Voldemort on my list of Worst People Ever.
