Page 44 of Ex Marks the Spot

“I accept your offer, but we need to make this official. Raise your right hand and repeat after me.”

His lips hint at a bemused smile, but he does as he’s told.

“I, Court Mueller

Do solemnly swear

To let Hartley Billings

Kick me in the balls after she bungee jumps.

So help me New Zealand.”

The fact that I’m genuinely smiling by the end of our makeshift oath gives me hope I can do other impossible things like surviving a one-hundred-thirty-four-meter freefall into a canyon or even just another two and a half weeks on Xtreme Quest with Court.

Before I lose my nerve, I lead the way into the jump pod. Court and our camera crew stand behind a railing along the back wall while I’m guided to a chair in the front that resembles something I’d see in a dentist’s office. A chair, mind you, that’s all of three feet from the edge. If I lean to my right, I’d fall over and roll right out of this damn pod.

Why do people think this is fun?

An employee who looks like he’s barely out of high school kneels at the base of the chair to fasten padded straps around my ankles. “What’s your name, champ?”

“Hartley.”

“Nice to meet you, Hartley. I’m Oliver and I promise you’re in good hands, so don’t worry. Is this your first time jumping?”

I will absolutely worry because I’m in the hands of a child. “Yes, this will be my first and last jump.”

“Then I guess we’d better make it worthwhile.” His lips curve into a flirtatious smirk that’s about ten years too late and one hundred thirty-four meters too high.

“As long as you make it to where I’ll survive, I’ll be happy.”

“What are you talking about? This is going to be the best sixty seconds of your life.”

Not even anxiety can keep me from looking at Court and saying, “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Excuse me?” One brow rises slowly, and his jaw kicks out to the side. “You were supposed to wait untilafteryou jump to kick me in the balls.”

I shrug while maintaining my death grip on the sides of the chair. “We’ll count this one as a practice kick.”

“Only if you admit that you owe me twenty-seven dollars and twelve cents. Otherwise, I rescind my previous offer.”

“You can’t rescind your offer. You already took the Oath of Ball Kicking.”

“And you broke the terms of our agreement by kicking early. I think thereal question now is whether your one opportunity to inflict pain on my most prized physical possession is worth twenty-seven dollars and twelve cents.” He leans forward on the railing. “How badly do you want to hurt me?”

“Very,” I say before my brain even registers the question. “Extremely. It will be my honor and pleasure.”

“I accept payment through most money-transferring apps. Also, your platform awaits.” He lifts a hand and gestures to the ledge beside me.

“I still need to get hooked—oh.” I glance at the umbilical cord of elastic connected to my harness and GoPro camera attached to my wrist. When did that happen?

“You ready, Hartley?” Oliver asks.

I wiggle my feet. “Are you sure everything’s attached properly? It’s not too loose?”

“It’s perfect. Up you go.” He extends a hand to help me off the chair before shuffling me to the platform. “See that strap at your ankle?”

I nod.