For Real(50)

“Yes. That’s exactly what I want to do right now.”

“You first. Do Troy.” She looks down at her watch and times out a minute.

When it’s time, I clear my throat and recite:

“There once was a stripper named Troy,



Who acted quite dumb as a ploy.



He took off his pants,



Did a butt-shaking dance,



And said, ‘Viewers, I hope you enjoy!’ ”



Miranda laughs. “Nice,” she says. “My turn.”

“Do Isis.”

She thinks for a second. “No fair. Nothing rhymes with ‘Isis’ except ‘crisis.’ Which is kind of ironic.” We both look over at our host, who’s dressed in a crisp linen suit without a single wrinkle. A crisis wouldn’t dare get close to her.

“Yeah, you’re right. Do Steve instead.”

When a minute has elapsed, she says,

“There once was a fellow named Steve,



Who everyone thought was na?ve.



But he’s sharp as a tack,



Not a geeky sad sack—



He has proven that looks can deceive.”



“Oh, reeeeeally,” I say. “What happened during your hour in the Love Shack? Did the sparks fly?”

My sister laughs. “Oh God, wasn’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen? And no, of course nothing happened. We just ended up having a ton in common, which was surprising, you know? I thought he would, like, babble on about Dungeons and Dragons for an hour, but we actually spent most of the time talking about Russian novels. And he’s really funny. I was totally impressed.”

“That’s awesome, Mira. I’m glad you guys had fun.”

“I’m going to pick him again for the next leg, if I can. He was a great partner.”

That makes me think of Will, and I scan the plaza for him, but he’s still nowhere to be found. I haven’t seen him since the elephant challenge this morning; Philadelphia’s probably slowing him down with all her inane flirting. If she gets him eliminated, I will seriously gouge out her eyes with my fingernails, glitter eye shadow and all. I bet that would boost ratings.

“What’re you looking at?” Miranda asks.

“Nothing. Just trying to see if anyone else has gotten here yet.”

“You suck at lying. You’re looking for Will, aren’t you?”

I shrug. “Okay, so what if I am? He should be here by now.” Miranda gives me a look, half knowing and half concerned. “What? Spit it out.”

“I just don’t want you to get too attached to him, that’s all.”

“I’m not attached to him. I just like him, okay? If you and I can’t race together, we should race with other people we like, right? You like Steve. I like Will.”

“I don’t like Steve the same way you like Will. Steve and I both know it’s a game. I’m afraid that maybe you forget about the game when you’re with Will.”

I think about how he looked at me when I was in my underwear, how his hand felt as it settled against the skin of my bare waist. “Well, not everything is a game, okay?”

“It is when you’re on television.”

“He likes me, Miranda. He does. You haven’t seen what he’s like when we’re alone and the cameras are off. The stupid ‘steamy challenges’ are a game, but that other stuff is real.”

“I mean, I can’t tell you for sure that it’s not. But you should try to keep your defenses up, or you’re going to get hurt.”

“I don’t need to defend myself from him!” A couple walking by turns to stare at us, and I lower my voice. “Do you not believe someone could like me that way? Is that the problem?”

“Claire, no. But he’s an actor, and this is a show. I have a lot of experience with actors, and I know what they’re like. Trust me.”

“You can’t assume that all actors suck just because one of them does! Will isn’t like Samir!”

She sighs. “Listen, I hope you’re right. And if you want to race with Will, I can’t stop you. But we’re not actually here to find our soul mates, okay? We’re here to—”

“I know why we’re here,” I snap.

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“Fine.”

“I don’t want you to think that—”

“I said fine, Miranda.”

“Okay. Good.”

Awkward silence stretches out between us, so thick and palpable I feel like I could poke it with my finger and watch it wiggle like Jell-O. I want everything to go back to how it was ten minutes ago, and I think about asking her for another limerick topic, but now the atmosphere is all wrong for our lighthearted game. I suggest finding something to eat instead, and we wander around the plaza until we find a food stall. Neither of us says much of anything as we eat our pakoras. I tell myself everything’s still fine, that we’re just tired. But Miranda’s words grate on me, and I don’t start to feel better until I spot Will and Philadelphia checking in with Isis. As soon as he spots me, Will smiles and waves. I know my sister’s wrong about him. There is something real going on between us. She’ll see.