Page 19 of Ex Marks the Spot
After stowing our bags, we sardine ourselves into the back seat—Court behind the driver, me in the middle, and the sound guy behind the cameraman, who’s sitting in the front passenger seat.
As we pull away from the Giant Eyeball and pass the hotel down the street, Court nudges me and points out the window. Rockville’s cab is stuck behind an SUV unloading what looks to be an entire household onto several luggage carts.
“We’re not in last place anymore.”
I ignore his cocky grin and keep my attention on the view from the windshield instead.
I’m in deep shit.
The deepest of shits.
The Mariana Trench of Stench if you will, because our thirty-minute drive to the airport sparked an unexpected internal battle between biology, psychology, and physics.
Basically, my traitorous body has either forgotten what Court did or absolved him of it and is now fully on board with the Law of Attraction.
It didn’t help that I was practically sitting on top of him in the back seat. Or that he had to rest his right arm behind my head to make room for the left half of my body. Or that on at least three occasions, his fingertips brushed theback of my neck, thus causing a biological response that thoroughly tested the limits of my lightly lined sports bra.
So yeah.
Deep shit.
“Are you okay?” comes a sweet voice from the sink to my left.
I blink and discover a bewildered version of myself in the bathroom mirror. I’m far,farfrom okay, but at least my mini breakdown wasn’t being filmed.
Shoving all thoughts of Court aside, I smile and say, “Sorry, I must’ve zoned out there for a second.”
I finish rinsing the soap from my hands and press them against my flushed cheeks before pulling a paper towel from the dispenser. “You’re Haylee, right?”
She nods. We didn’t get much time to chat earlier between her interview, my interview, and my subsequent cool-off period after Court’s asinine display of martyrdom. I plan on using our pre-flight downtime for intel gathering so I can write notes on the plane.
So far, I’ve talked to:
Treva, a self-proclaimed “crunchy” mom (whatever that means) on a strangers team from Aspen Creek University. Her partner is Boyd, who loves Egypt and is desperately hoping we’ll make a stop there this season. He even has a basenji named King Muttankhamun, AKA: King Mutt. His reason for being on the show is to prove to his ex-boyfriend that he’s not a homebody who’s incapable of being spontaneous. Treva dubbed them Team Kick Asspen, but I think that’s just her way of trying to boost Boyd’s confidence.
Team Loud and Proud is a friends team from Auchenbach State College. Despite his loud Boston accent and type A personality (I heard, “I’m a real go-gettah” about six times in less than five minutes), Oscar’s handshake was akin to a holding a limp fish. His teammate is Janessa, who went in for an unexpected double-cheek kiss during our introduction to “prepare for Europe,” although I think it was an excuse to sort-of kiss Court. She’s been covertly checking him out ever since.
And lastly, friends Alexis and Gianna from Holbrooke University, who have been openly checking him out too (along with Paul Rutherford, a couple of other competitors, and a handful of crew members). Of course, both women have bleach-blond hair, amazing eyelashes, and killer bodies, but something tells me they’re leaning into the stereotype. Team Bombshell is definitely worth keeping a close eye on.
“Is anyone else freaking out yet, or is it just me?” Haylee’s teammate Kadeeja asks as she joins us at the sinks.
“I’m right there with you,” Haylee says, laughing. “I wonder when it’ll hit us that we’re actually on the show.”
“My guess is about two weeks after the last leg,” I reply, tossing my paper towel into the trash. “Also, I think you two take the record for cutest day one outfit.”
They pause in front of the full-length mirror to admire their handiwork—blue crab earrings, knee-high Maryland flag socks, and black-and-gold tutus that match their Chesapeake Bay University shirts. Not surprising they’re Team Old Bay, on account of the actual jars of Old Bay seasoning they brought with them.
As for me and Court, shortly before our interview ended, Wendell declared us Team Hartbreak. That’s fine with me since it just reinforces the crap Court put me through.
“Took you long enough,” the devil himself says as we exit the bathroom. “Are you constipated?”
“Au contraire. The only one full of shit is you, Courtney.”
Haylee and Kadeeja laugh and lead the way back to our gate.
It turns out, it didn’t matter who was in last place on the way to the airport. There are two flights going to Costa Rica tonight. The first left fifteen minutes ago with two teams. If they manage to make the thirty-minute connection and successfully change planes, they’ll land in San Jose at 8:15 tonight. The rest of us are on the nonstop flight that gets in at 9:07.
Court pushes off the wall and we follow the girls around the corner and down the concourse. When we pass by the sundry shop, he quietly snorts to himself.