For Real(63)

I tuck the apple under my chin and set off across the field as fast as I can. “Do not drop that, or Samir will steal me back,” Miranda calls after me, like I’m planning to sabotage her or something.

As we do our first transfer at the other end of the field, I realize this isn’t the first time my sister and I have played this game. Our hometown used to have a lot of festivals with relay races when we were kids, and Miranda was always my partner, since I was too shy to interact with the other kids. Even though I’d forgotten all about those games until this moment, my muscles remember exactly how to work in sync with my sister’s. It only takes one smooth motion for her to grab the apple from me with her chin. Of course, those ridiculous, fumbling, giggling transfers with Will would have been well worth finishing the race a few minutes later.

Samir keeps a close eye on us the whole time, ready to steal Miranda back the moment we screw up, but we get through the first three laps without dropping our apple. The last swap is pretty difficult, but when I lie on my back and Miranda stands over me, balancing herself with my hands, we manage the knee-to-knee transfer. She waddles quickly down the field, and when she crosses the finish line, I expect her to cheer or at least crack a smile—she’s safe from Samir for now. But she just gives me a businesslike high five and snatches the next envelope from our referee.

Make your way to the Pegasus fountain in Korinthos Square, where each team will find a wheelbarrow full of pomegranates. At Greek weddings, it is traditional to smash pomegranates on the ground—the scattering of seeds symbolizes fertility and abundance. You must smash your pomegranates until you find the one that has a small Around the World in Eighty Dates flag in the center, which you may exchange for your next instructions.

Miranda grabs her pack and dashes toward the car, and I have to sprint to keep up with her. Before she slides behind the wheel, she pulls a map out of her bag and shoves it at me harder than necessary. “Navigate,” she says.

“I have my own map. Why do you always assume I’m not prepared?”

“Just hurry and tell me which way to go, okay?”

We talk of nothing but left and right turns until we arrive in Korinthos Square—the air in the car is so thick with our unaired grievances that it’s difficult to breathe, let alone speak. The plaza around the Pegasus fountain is sunny and bright and full of laughing locals with drinks and ice cream, and it seems impossible that such carefree people could exist in the same dimension as my sister and I right now. Six wheelbarrows full of pomegranates are spaced at regular intervals around the fountain, and a small crowd has gathered around the one where Martin and Zora are enthusiastically smashing fruit. The juice seeps into the tan paving stones, making dramatic, bloody stains.

We pick the first wheelbarrow we come to, and Miranda snatches a pomegranate and throws it with both hands. It’s overripe, and it explodes against the ground, sending a shower of red juice onto my shoes. I smash the next one, and it’s surprisingly cathartic to watch seeds and pulp fly in all directions. After I throw a few more, unleashing my physical anger starts to loosen my tongue, and I turn to my sister. “So, is there anything you want to say to me right now?”

She doesn’t even look at me. “Um, not really. What are you talking about?”

“How about ‘I’m sorry’? That would be a good start.”

Miranda smashes another pomegranate, then stomps on it violently when it doesn’t break all the way open. “Seriously? You think I owe you an apology?”

“Yeah, I do, actually. You knew how much I wanted to be Will’s partner, and you saw how well we were doing together, but you just swooped in anyway and split us up like you were totally entitled.”

“I was entitled,” she says. “Swapping partners was the whole point of that challenge.”

“You could just as easily have chosen Martin or Zora, and that would’ve been the more strategic move if you wanted to get ahead of Samir, because—”

Miranda throws a pomegranate so hard half of it flies up and hits me in the leg. “I didn’t want Martin or Zora, Claire! I don’t care about strategy and getting ahead right now! I’m having the crappiest day ever, and I just wanted to get away from Samir and find a partner who might actually understand what I’m going through and sympathize with me a little! But I guess that’s too much to ask for from you, isn’t it? I kept dropping that stupid apple on purpose and waiting for you to step up and separate us, and you just ignored me and carried on with your happy little lovefest!”

Oh God, of course she was dropping the apple on purpose. I probably should have picked up on that. But after the fuss Miranda made about the dance challenge, her anger seems completely unfair. “That is such a double standard! Why would you expect me to help you when you just made this huge deal yesterday about how pissed you were that you helped me?”

“Because even if it hurt me, I did it anyway!”

“But I didn’t ask you to, Miranda! That was your choice! You can’t decide to do me a favor and then hold it against me!”

My sister grabs a whole bunch of pomegranates and throws three in a row, splat splat splat. One of them is so ripe that it squishes in her hand, and the bright red juice drips down her forearm like she’s just ripped out someone’s heart. “You’re the one who said we were allies no matter what, and I was trying to be a good team member and actually look out for you. But I guess that doesn’t work both ways if it means spending two seconds away from your precious Will Divine.”