Page 57 of Wild About You
For once, the forest is quiet, even the wind pausing to see what happens next. The fate of this season of Wild Adventures. When Burke alerts us that the minute is up and we can remove our blindfolds, I can barely hear him over my own heartbeat in my ears. While my right hand holds the switch sign upright and steady, my left hand shakes nearly too hard for the task of dragging the piece of fabric off my head.
When I do, the first thing I see is Finn’s boots, which have taken a couple steps into the circle and now angle toward me. My eyes drag up his long form, pausing next on the sign he’s holding up. In his left hand.
Stay.
I let my own sign of choice fall, my gaze darting before I can stop it to my partner’s face, the one that’s looked at me with everything from mild irritation to emotional vulnerability to tender affection. What I see in it now is new, but utterly unforgettable. In those deep, dark eyes is a feeling of even deeper, darker betrayal.
Chapter Twenty-Two
No one has ever worn a tree-climbing harness quite like Finn wears a tree-climbing harness. It’s a combination, I think, of the surprisingly muscular thighs hidden under those khakis, the not-surprisingly tight backside I’ve spent plenty of time watching in front of me on the trail, and, oh yes, the smoldering glare his handsome face is now permanently set in.
That last one’s my fault. As I adjust the straps on my own tree-climbing harness, I go over the past couple hours in my mind.
My second mistake, after raising my right hand instead of left in the first place, was the next thing I’d said to Finn post-Swapportunity. A hastily blurted out, “Why didn’t you do what I thought you were gonna do?”
It was a flurry of chaos in the wake of The Big Switch. Or The Big Switch That Wasn’t. In the end, only Zeke, Enemi, and I opted to switch, meaning there was no other team for those two to swap partners with, so all teams stayed as we are. Basically causing a bunch of drama and hurt feelings for nothing—nothing but the good TV that comes from drama and hurt feelings.
Finn’s scoff made the trees shake. “Have you listened to anything I’ve ever said to you, Natalie?” he’d near-shouted, out in the open for the cameras and Burke Forrester and god herself to hear. “How did you possibly think I was going to choose to switch?”
“Of course I listen!” I’d pleaded back, scrambling to justify my choice and also to make us less of a spectacle. “You said I’ve been screwing you out of a chance to win this, and you were right. You deserve to go on with a partner who can help you win.”
“That’s not—I didn’t mean it like—” He let out a frustrated sigh-groan. “I was trying to tell you that you’re capable of winning, that you have done amazingly already, and not to let all that other noise in your head get in the way now.”
I’d clutched at my tightening chest. “That other noise in my head is my feelings and concerns and anxiety, Finn. It’s not all stuff I can ignore. I can’t grumpy robot my way through life like you can.”
Finn shook his head, already starting to walk away. “No, there you go again. Filtering out what I’m actually saying, picking and choosing what words you can patchwork together into the lies you want to tell yourself. You know I support you, believe in you, will validate you to the end of the AT and back. But what am I supposed to do when it never seems to stick?”
“Finn…” He waved a hand before sulking off and has been avoiding me ever since. Which is a tough job when “ever since” involved a brief, tense lunch, then hiking four miles as a big group to the site of our next challenge. The vibes were the weirdest they’ve ever been, even for the two teams that both chose stay, all of us hiking with a few strides between each person. Finn stayed at the very front, back in his comfort zone of not engaging with anyone.
We arrived here, a place called Newfound Gap, to find a cheerful Burke Forrester demonstrating absolutely no ability to read a room. He’d explained that since today’s challenge requires a bit more specialized skill, the crew was going to help us don the equipment and practice using it before we began filming. Thus, the harnesses. We’ve each been able to practice using them to support ourselves in shimmy-stepping up and down tall hardwood trees.
It’s nerve-racking, to be sure—plenty of opportunity to fall to my death, even if the professional arborists say the whole point of the harnesses is to prevent that. But I’m trying my best to keep it together, for Finn’s sake more than anything. He’s officially stuck with me now, and I want to do right by him more than I want to be right about my own incompetence.
I’m also motivated by Harper and Evan, the two people with a track record of not handling heights well, but who have already shown they’re determined not to let it stop them today. The tree climbing only takes us to half the height of the observation tower, but I still want to cover my eyes the first time a nervous Harper goes up.
Nerves that prove unnecessary when she comes back down with a smile on her face.
“That was much better than the other day,” she declares. “I trust my own legs way more than I trusted that rickety ladder or piece of string I had to slide down.”
Evan’s verdict after they try it is similar, which is extra reassuring. Team Hevan is once again doing more good for my mental state than either member of Team Finnatalie.
Producers call for us to circle up, requiring Finn to stand next to me at last. Does he feel the electric charge in the foot of air between us, like I do? Or is that just steam coming off of his body from his fiery fury at me?
“Co-EdVenturers!” Burke says once we’re filming. “Welcome to Newfound Gap, the lowest pass over the Great Smoky Mountains, straddling the Tennessee–North Carolina state line. We’re standing on storied ground, as on September 2, 1940, President Franklin D. Roosevelt came to this pass to dedicate Great Smoky Mountains National Park while he stood with one foot in each state. So in today’s challenge, ‘Newfound Knowledge,’ we’re going to honor the park’s great history and legacy by testing your trivia skills—and hugging its trees.”
I smile at his description of tree climbing, but it’s the fakest smile I have to offer. A Burke Forrester smile, a performing-on-opening-night-when-you-have-food-poisoning smile. And my stomach feels just as uneasy.
Burke goes on to explain the challenge, in which each team will be assigned to a different tree with a platform secured to its trunk about twenty-five feet off the ground. On every platform is a stack of wooden blocks with trivia questions on them. One at a time, teammates will climb up to the platform, being careful not to topple the block stack. Once you reach it, pull a block out of the stack, anywhere but the top row, and call the question out to your partner on the ground. If your partner gets it correct, climb back down and let them take their turn. If they miss it, pull another block. The first team to correctly answer five questions without toppling their stack of blocks wins. If your stack falls, your team must rebuild it and start over completely.
This sounds stressful enough on its own, but then we learn it’s an immediate elimination challenge, with the last team to get five correct answers going home.
I’ve used my lavender rollerball sparingly, what with all the warnings about scented things attracting predators. But I roll it halfway up each forearm while the camera crew gets set up by each tree, taking long inhales with it right under my nose, to boot.
“It’s going to be fine,” Finn grumbles at my side, making me jump. “Ginger says the questions are multiple choice.”
“Oh good,” I sigh, words laced with sarcasm. “We’re absolutely crushing it with choices today.”
A growly noise is his only response before he walks away.