For Real(56)

“Greece,” he breathes. “That is so awesome. Come on! Let’s go!”

I love his boyish enthusiasm—it almost makes me forget about Miranda and Samir. Even the insane ride through the camel-and-monkey-and-cow-filled Delhi traffic doesn’t seem so bad, now that he’s the one next to me in the cab.

The earliest flight out is at six in the evening on Qatar Airways with a two-hour layover in Doha, and all twelve of us end up on the same flight. As soon as we’re on the plane, I remind Will to do the breathing exercises I taught him, and when I offer him my hand, he takes it eagerly. I was hoping for a continuation of the Question Game, but staying up most of the night has left me sleepier than I thought, and I drift off the moment we reach our cruising altitude. Even with the help of a large coffee in the Doha airport, I don’t feel fully alert again until we’re standing in the customs line in Athens. I hate that I’ve missed out on so much valuable time with Will, but honestly, last night was worth it.

We stumble out into the cool night air—somehow it’s midnight again—and find a cab. Our driver seems to be in the mood to practice his English, and he asks a million questions about the race as we zip down the highway. When he gets tired of that, he serenades us with some of his favorite American songs, all of which are by Lady Gaga—it turns out her music is way more entertaining when sung by a pudgy Greek man. He finally lets us off at the beach around one in the morning, shakes our hands, and gives us his card in case we ever need a cab in an emergency. “Wherever you are, I come for you like the wind!” he promises.

We follow a winding path between a bunch of beachside hotels, but when Will finds the rickety gate that leads out onto the sand, it’s latched and locked. He pulls a tiny LED flashlight out of his bag and reads the sign. “The beach doesn’t open until sunrise,” he calls.

A couple teams are spreading out their sleeping bags and settling in to wait for dawn, and I spot Troy a little farther down the fence, alternating between sets of crunches and push-ups. Miranda and Samir don’t seem to be here yet. Maybe she’s off burying his dead body in the sand somewhere.

“What do you want to do?” I ask Will. “Should we nap?”

He shrugs. “I slept on the plane, so I’m okay. How about you?”

“I’m actually feeling kind of wired.”

“You want to walk around?”

I know we’ll only be killing time, but it almost feels like Will just asked me on a date. “Definitely,” I say.

Our crew guys look exhausted, and since our walk isn’t race-related, Will convinces them to rest instead of tagging along. He acts like he’s just being nice, but it seems like he wants to be alone with me. We leave our packs with the cameraman and head back up to the road. Will keeps his hands deep in his pockets, but he walks close enough to me that our arms occasionally brush. Neither of us speaks as we amble through the nighttime streets, looking at the darkened storefronts and cable car tracks in companionable silence. This unhurried time feels like a gift.

“Hey,” I finally say to Will as we turn down a cobblestone sidewalk that’s shiny and wet from an earlier rain. “Why are you really here?”

A crinkle of confusion appears between his eyebrows. “Um … because the beach is closed?”

“No, not here on this street. I mean here on the race. Why’d you try out? You’re not really a CEO’s son who’s trying to escape some evil corporate destiny, so what’s the real story?”

He shrugs. “I just wanted to. That’s all.” But he doesn’t meet my eyes.

“Oh, come on. You’re totally hiding something. People don’t just randomly try out for reality shows. You must’ve had a reason.”

He’s quiet for a minute, and then he says, “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“I’m, like, the queen of embarrassing. I can handle it.”

“I know you can handle it, but—”

I cut him off. “When we were on the plane to Java, you made me tell you a secret, and you never told me one back, so now you owe me. It’s only fair.”

He sighs. “Fine. But you can’t judge me.”

“I’d never judge you.”

“Okay. So, one of my friends is a PA for this show, and when she started working on it back in the winter, she told me all about it. And I mean all about it.”

It takes me a second to figure out what he’s saying, but then my mouth drops open. “You knew this was a dating show?” No wonder he didn’t look surprised when Isis revealed the twist at the starting line.

“Yeah. Please don’t tell anyone. They’d probably fire my friend.”

“I won’t. But … I’m sorry, you seriously came here to meet girls?”

“I knew you’d laugh at me.” He looks down at his shoes.

“No! No, it’s just … you couldn’t meet girls at home? You’re in college. In New York City. There are literally four million women there. And you’re”—I make a vague gesture up and down his body—“you. You can’t possibly have trouble meeting girls.” This is more than I intended to say, and I’m blushing like crazy, but I’m pretty sure he can’t tell in the dark.

“Well, I also wanted a free trip around the world, but it didn’t hurt to know that I’d get to meet some extremely kick-ass women. I mean, sure, there are a lot of attractive girls at school, but it’s hard to find someone who’s interesting past the surface, you know? I wanted to find someone deep and adventurous and brave, who’s willing to step out of her comfort zone and try new things, even if it scares her.” He looks right into my eyes. “And I have.”