Page 64 of The Summer Show
The judges sent one of the fishermen home.
Now we were eight.
“This is the strangest game show ever,” I said.
“That is why it is so popular,” Memo said. “Nobody ever knows what to expect.”
My tzatziki was garbage. I was sure I had messed up half the ingredients, and it never occurred to me to grate the cucumbers, so I spent ages chopping them into tiny pieces.
“I’d eat it,” Nick said, clearing his throat. “Who gives a shit if it’s authentic?”
My eyeballs felt hot and damp as if tears were on their way. I swallowed hard and tried to think happy thoughts. I was still in the game, with another three thousand bucks in my pocket. Maybe next year I’d be able to get Dog Man and Captain Underpants for the book fair.
“I did the best I could, given that I’ve eaten it maybe twice in my life.”
His eyes scanned my face. “I bet it’s better than anyone else’s,” he said, his voice thick with fierce emotion.
I blinked in surprise and pulled away slightly, shocked at how deeply he seemed to care about tzatziki and my cooking skills.
“Thanks,” I whispered, but I didn’t think he heard it, because at that moment Pretty Monkey sidled up to him and fit herself to his side like a kitten. Without so much as glancing at her, he pulled away and stalked off to wardrobe to ditch the hoplite costume. Something fluttered in that hollow space between my ribs and stomach.
Butterflies.
twenty-four
After the episode, everyone traipsed back to Hotel Ble to blow off steam. The bar was decked out with a buffet of snacks: fruits on sticks, nuts, seafood, a dozen different cheeses, breads, tiny cakes. Drinks flowed. Everything was on the show’s tab, Memo assured me.
This was my idea of hell.
I wanted to be a fun, cool person who was sophisticated enough to know about what wines went with my cheeses. But really I was more of a goblin who wanted to load up a plate with snacks and hide in a quiet corner, hissing at anyone who looked sideways at my treasure.
As I cut through the gathering of contestants, crew, and other show related people, with that snack buffet as my destination, I craned my neck searching for Nick. He had vanished after we went to wardrobe to change back into our street clothes.
I piled snacks on my plate and wandered out onto the balcony, where the sea breeze was slowly raking its fingers through the air. The fifth floor bar was only one of the resort’s bars, and for tonight this one was reserved for Greece’s Top Hoplite people only. The balcony’s floor was glass or something like it, and surrounded by ropes of fairy lights. Far below, the lazy river pool glittered like it was filled with magic. Beneath the surface of the music, there was a kind of peace that we never experienced at home. Day and night, my world was filled with noise. Cars slowed but the hum of automobiles never fully stopped. There was always someone honking at nothing or speeding to nowhere.
Nick wasn’t out here either. Everyone else was accounted for except him. But he was the only one I wanted to spend time with.
Why, oh why hadn’t we swapped numbers?
Maybe it wasn’t my place, but I made up a second plate and carried both to the elevator.
With no free hands, I had to get creative. I used my nose to press the elevator’s buttons. I bonked Nick’s door with my head.
No answer.
Maybe my head was too soft.
I tried again, this time with my knee.
“Did you just knock on my door with your head and knee?”
And there was Nick, striding toward me along the hallway, carrying a six-pack. He was out of his hoplite costume and wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt.
Honestly, he was a vision. The butterflies in my stomach were freaking out, and I was hoping I could compel them to chill harnessing the calming power of cheese.
I grinned at Nick. “Necessity is the mother of invention.”
“You’ve got a key.”