“Ha ha. Swift’s been laying all his smooth moves on a clueless VIRGIN. Wait ‘til I tell the guys at home. They are going to give him such shit.” — Plate, Team One Percent, The World Races
“Someone please, please, please shoot me now.” — Clementine, Team Beauty and the Geek, The World Races
To my vast dismay, the zip line did not break and plunge me to certain death, thus saving me from an ultra-embarrassing conversation with Swift. I did contemplate just bailing – leave the race, my twin, everything. Run away into the wilds of Norway and become a goatherding nun. Or something.
But I didn’t. Instead, my cheeks burned with shame as my cameraman hovered and the attendants unbuckled me from the zip line. Someone handed me my next clue – half of a World Races disk.
I tucked it under my arm and walked away.
I needed to play this casual. Cool. Calm. Collected.
Yeah, like that was going to happen.
Then Swift was zipping down the line, and there was no more time to run.
I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to look busy and impatient as they pulled Swift out of the million and one zip line harnesses. Then when he was free, he marched right over to me. So did his cameraman.
“That,” he hissed, “was a hell of a thing to announce and not give me a chance to respond.”
“Well, I wasn’t trying to announce it,” I snapped back. “Can we talk about this some other time?”
“I cannot believe I have been macking on a virgin! What the hell, Tiny?”
Now I was starting to get irritated. “You make it sound like I’m twelve, not twenty-eight. What’s wrong with being a virgin?”
“Who the hell gets to twenty-eight as a virgin?” He threw his arms up. “And how is it you made it to twenty-eight a virgin and your sister is Georgie freaking Price? She’s a cover model!”
My hands clenched into fists and I stormed away. I was not having that conversation right there. Not with everyone staring at us and wondering. Bad enough that everything else had been gotten on film. I just wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole. Maybe we’d get lucky and our taxi would drive off a pier or something. I brightened at the thought. That sounded more promising than riding back with Swift.
“Hey,” he called as I stalked off. “Wait up! I need to get my clue.”
“Then get it,” I called back, not stopping. “Because I am leaving.”
“Tiny, wait up,” he bellowed. “Jesus!”
I practically raced to the waiting cab, but before I could make it even halfway there, I heard running footsteps behind me. Swift grabbed my hand. “Hey—“
I jerked it out of his grasp.
“What the—Tiny, why are you mad? I’m the one that just had a bomb dropped on him!”
I turned around, wheeling on him. “I am mad because you are making me feel like a freak.” I gestured at the cameras, who were recording every humiliating second of this. “And because it is all going to be on TV.”
“Shit.” Swift’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Let’s just get in the cab, all right?”
Oh, now he wanted to keep things quiet? The cat was already out of the bag. But I let him open my cab door and got in, then stared straight ahead when he slid in next to me.
“Where now?” the cab driver asked.
I looked pointedly at Swift. “You’re the one with so much experience. You tell him.”
“Tiny, hang on,” Swift said, tone soothing. He looked at the taxi driver. “Just give us a sec, man.” Then he leaned in close to me. “We need to talk.”
“I thought we’d said enough.”
“I just don’t understand. How is it that someone like you is a virgin? I think you’re beautiful, Tiny. And so damn smart. And you have great taste in music.”
I softened. Only a little.
“It’s just strange to me that Georgie Price’s twin sister is a virgin at 28. That’s all.” He paled. “Is it for religious reasons? Oh, damn. Have I been bothering you this whole time? Because if so, I really apologize—“
“It’s not religious,” I reassured him. “Seriously. And you want to know why I’m a virgin? It’s because my sister is Georgie Price. Who would look at me twice when she’s around?”
“Me,” he said softly.
I blushed all over again, and stared at my hands, clasped in my lap. I still had the clue next to me on the seat, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to read a word of it right now. And honestly? I didn’t care what it said at the moment. “It’s not religious. It’s just me being a nerd. Whatever Georgie has…it doesn’t translate over to me, you know? She’s got something extra that makes people want to look at her. I’m just the paler copy.” I shrugged. It was something I’d been used to all my life. I didn’t even resent my twin for it. How could anyone hate Georgie? She never did anything with malice. “Just…stop looking at me like I’m a freak, okay Swift?”
“I just felt bad because here, I liked you, and I’ve been trying to say all this sexual shit to you, and—“
“I like you too,” I interrupted. My gaze met his for a moment, and then went to his mouth, where it was easier to look. Easier to focus on his chiseled mouth than those piercing, laughing eyes. “I just might need to go a bit slower than you want.”
“I can go as slow as you want, baby.” He grinned and leaned in, and his lips brushed against mine. “Just as long as I can still kiss you and look at you.”
“Yeah, you can.”
“And occasionally touch you when no one’s looking.” His tongue flicked over my lips.
A shiver rippled through me. “I—“
“I am sorry to interrupt,” the driver said. “But did you have directions? My meter is running.”
Oh boy. I pulled away from Swift and decided I needed to look at my clue after all. The clue was cut in half right down the middle, and it was obvious that Georgie would have the other half and it would give us instructions on what to do next.
My side of the disk read:
Bygdov is
Your Next Clue
The Berlin Wall
Gstaad Palace in Switzerland
The Arc de Triomphe in France
Now Grab
An Evening Of
When You Arrive
Enjoy!
I peered at it and read it twice. Huh. Swift was reading his, also. “I thought this was supposed to tell us where to go?” he asked, looking at me.
“Maybe the first two lines are our clue? Bygdov is where Plate and Georgie are. Maybe we’re supposed to meet back up with them?”
He flipped the disk over, examining the other side, and then flipped it again. Swift shrugged. “I guess we’ll know when we get there.”
We headed to Bygdov.
~~ * * * ~~
When the cab pulled up at the Viking ship museum, we could see camera crews racing around, and people in the colorful team shirts we had to wear for the show. Each one wore a Viking hat and what looked like a furry cape of some sort, and they carried big round wooden shields as they raced around and worked on the task. As we got out of the car and headed up the hill, I mentally ticked off teams. There was the blue for Team Daddy, the brown for Team Newlywed, the Green Machine…
And that tall flash of red was my twin, Georgie. Whew. Plate ran past a moment later, his big hand clutching his helmet, and Swift chuckle-snorted at the sight. “He looks like an idiot.”
“How do you think we looked when we went down the zip line?” I teased, elbowing him.
“Like virgins?”
I smacked his arm. “You are so not funny.”
“Baby, I’m hilarious.” He grinned at me and to my surprise, he reached out and took my hand as we raced up the hill.
When we got to the top, the place was utter chaos. It looked as if each team had a station, and each station was comprised of a massive pile of lumber pieces that looked more like Viking Jenga than a longship. As I watched, half of each team was working on piecing their boats together, then remo
ved pieces when they realized they were the wrong ones. Georgie had her prow built…but that was about it. As I watched, she and Plate stood together and whispered, and then they went to work on their separate boats. Good. They were working together.
Off to one side there was a sign and a row of picnic blankets. The sign read ‘Waiting Area’ and there was a picnic basket on each blanket. No other teams had arrived yet, so Swift and I picked the blanket that would allow us to watch our teammates closest.
Swift dug into the basket. “Oh man. Check this shit out. We have a bladder of mead.” He pulled out two drinking horns and laughed. “And cups.”
My stomach growled, reminding me that I should have eaten more earlier. “Is there any food?”
“Some big loaves of bread, some fruit.” He dug around. “Some dried meat. Looks like traditional Viking foods I guess? There’s a container of something called ‘lutefisk’.” He held up a jar. “You want some?”
“God, no.”
He pulled out cheese. “Want to have sandwiches?”
“That sounds amazing.” I smiled at him. “Should we save some for the others?”
“Nah, let them get their own picnic baskets.” He handed her a drinking horn and then pulled out a big knife to cut the bread.
“So unfair,” Georgie called as she puffed past with a gigantic wooden plank. Her face was red and sweaty under the helmet. “You get to eat while we work? Not cool!”
“Hey,” I called back. “I flung myself off a ski jump for you. You’re welcome!”
“You tell ‘er, Tiny,” Swift said, and we began to assemble our sandwiches. I tasted bits of meat before putting the tastiest parts on my sandwich, and the cheeses were all delicious. We poured mead into our horns, clanked them together for a toast, and then chowed down.
All too soon, I was licking my fingers clean of my delicious meal, Swift was polishing off the last of the food (except for the jar of lutefisk) and I was tipsy from the strong mead. “Oh man, that was good,” I breathed as I patted my stomach. “But I don’t think I should have drank all that alcohol.”
“Why not? You’re not driving.” He gestured at Georgie and Plate, still working busily on their tasks. “This is the last task for the day. After this comes a rest period.”
“I could use a rest right now,” I said, and a hiccup escaped me.
Swift patted his leg. “You wanna put your head down and take a nap while they work? I think they’re gonna have to start over again.”
I groaned, because they’d started over twice while we were there. The ship was a big puzzle, and it was clear that it wasn’t an easy one. Other teams were arriving, and the picnic blankets were filling up.
“Maybe just a quick rest,” I said, and snuggled down next to his leg, laying my cheek against his thigh. Mm, he was big and warm and smelled good.
His fingers dragged over one of my braids, toying with it. “You stay there as long as you want, Tiny,” he murmured. “I got you.”
Chapter Fourteen
“You can’t fight everything. Some things, you just gotta let happen. And I’ve got to stop thinking of Tiny as the enemy. If she wins the prize money, I’ll be happy for her. Honest.” — Swift, Team One Percent, The World Races
Georgie and Plate finished their ships at roughly the same time, though I suspect Plate let Georgie finish first since he liked her. It was either gentlemanly behavior or he had the hots for her. Or both. Georgie got her clue first, and bounded over to our spot on the blanket, rattling her Viking gear, Plate trailing behind her.
“Where’s your disk, Clemmy?” She asked, gesturing for me to get up. “Come on, hurry. The other teams are going to finish soon.”
I stood up with Swift’s help, and then wobbled. The mead I’d drank had gone straight to my head. “Woooh.”
The biker’s arm went around my waist, holding me against him. “I don’t think your sister can handle her alcohol.”
I giggled. “I’m good. Really.”
Swift chuckled as Georgie shot him an unhappy look. “It’s fine. We’re probably just heading for a rest area at this point anyhow, right?”
“Well, it depends on what the clue says,” Georgie snapped. “Honestly. Drinking, guys?”
“The show provided it,” I said meekly, but held my clue out to her. She snapped the two of them together, and then all four of us leaned over it to read.
My side had said:
Bygdov is
Your Next Clue
The Berlin Wall
Gstaad Palace in Switzerland
The Arc de Triomphe in France
Now Grab
An Evening Of
When You Arrive
Enjoy!
Georgie’s side of the clue read:
The last place in Norway
Is your partner’s
Is not the next place to go
Is where you want to be
Is a red herring!
Your Partner For
Relaxation and Fun
You have an entire day to relax and enjoy yourselves!
Together, it read:
Bygdov is the last place in Norway
Your next clue is your partner’s
The Berlin Wall is not the next place to go
Gstaad Palace in Switzerland is where you want to be
The Arc de Triomphe in France is a red herring!
Now grab your partner for
An evening of relaxtion and fun
When you arrive you have an entire day to relax and enjoy yourselves!
“Huh,” I said. “So we go to Switzerland?”
“That’s what it says,” Georgie said, pulling me out of Swift’s supporting arms. “Come on. Time to hustle to the airport, Clemmy. Plate, get your drunk partner.”
Swift snorted. “It’d take more than that to get me drunk.”
I giggled again, because everything was funny. Well, everything but the unhappy look Georgie shot me. That made me sober, and I stuck my lower lip out as she ushered me towards the waiting taxis. We split up, with both of our drivers instructed to head to the airport, and then Georgie let into me.
“What is wrong with you, Clemmy? Drinking? Really?”
“We finished our task,” I said quietly. “Why’s drinking a little something so bad?” Heck, Georgie had been known to party hard. Why was it so bad if her nerdy twin was the one having a good time?
“Uh huh. Did he give you that drink or did you suggest it?”
“He gave it to me.”
She leaned in, her eyes furious. “Never ever ever take a drink from a guy, Clemmy. You don’t know what they’re up to.”
Huh? This was just Swift. Then my eyes widened as a new thought occurred to me. Swift really really wanted to win and he’d made that quite clear over and over again. “You think he’s trying to sabotage us?”
“I don’t know. But we’re not their partners, Clemmy. We’re working together right now because that’s in our best interest.” Her lean arms crossed over her chest. “What if the clue had said ‘Keep racing on until the next challenge’? You’re freaking drunk.”
I shook my head, but a hiccup escaped me anyhow, defeating any sort of protest I might have made. I gave up and sighed. “I’m sorry, Georgie. I wasn’t thinking.”
She put her arm around my shoulders, pulling me against her. “You’re just entirely too trusting, Clem. I don’t want to see you get hurt. That’s all.”
I snuggled down against my twin in the back of the taxi, feeling guilty that I was being so irresponsible.
I was simply going to have to play a better game.
~~ * * * ~~
One plane and several hours later, we were taking a train in Switzerland to Gstaad Palace. Georgie and I had ended up at the back of the plane, with the men at the front. The other teams had piled out, and there’d been a mad rush to the train station, and we ended up missing our connection by five minutes.
We were the only ones on the second train. The guys hadn’t wa
ited for us. I didn’t blame them. They’d probably panicked at the sight of all the other teams flooding onto the trains…but still.
It made me think about that drink that Swift had given me earlier. Had it been harmless? Or was there an ulterior motive?
I hated that I had to question everything. That I couldn’t just trust the guy I was crushing on because we were in a game for a million dollars. Georgie was right. We might be working together, but if the finish line stood between the two of us, I knew what he’d pick. He wanted to win, and he wanted to win for his dad. I got that, I really did. I couldn’t fault the guy for having family loyalty. It was sweet.
But the memory of Georgie telling me not to trust him and the fact that they hadn’t waited for us at the train had put me in a crap mood. Unlike my twin, I didn’t think Swift was out to sabotage me. I knew if I thought about it logically, it just made sense that he’d handed me a drink, and the drink happened to be alcoholic. He didn’t know I was such a lightweight, and neither of us had thought about the possibility of another task. Heck, we’d both thought we were heading straight for the next rest area, not the airport.
But that was logic, and logic wasn’t easy to hold onto when hurt feelings were around. And the hurt feelings had taken precedence the moment the first train had pulled away and no one was left at the station but me and Georgie.
I kept nursing that hurt as the train disembarked at Zweisimmen and we switched to a taxi that would take us the rest of the way through the mountains and to Gstaad Palace. Gstaad itself was the exact image of what a Swiss village should look like, tiny chalet-type buildings nestled amidst cobblestone streets and surrounded by green mountains. If I hadn’t been so awash in confusion, I might have enjoyed the sight of it.
“Is that the palace? It looks like a gigantic hotel,” Georgie observed, peering out the window as we studied a map of the area.
It did kind of look like a hotel, I thought. A big, white boxy one with a lot of floors. But it was pretty and looked posh and I was all for a day’s relaxation at a swanky hotel. “I hope that’s where we’re sleeping.”