For Real(74)

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “You were terrified of that sheep. You thought it was going to eat you. That was, hands down, the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Samir has struggled back into a sitting position, but his face is now several layers of red, embarrassment on top of frustration on top of fury. “For the love of God, get off your lazy ass and help me, Claire! We’re about to get eliminated because of a bunch of sheep. How do we get them to move?”

It takes five more minutes for the sheep to make their own slow, meandering way off the road. Samir spends most of that time leaning on the horn and shouting threats that involve the word “mutton,” and Robby keeps the camera right in his face the whole time. A line of cars starts backing up behind us, and they add their horns to the mix, which doesn’t seem to bother the sheep at all but makes Samir even angrier. By the time our wooly friends decide to amble back into their pasture, Samir has almost no voice left.

When we peel into the nearly empty parking lot of Drumlanrig Castle thirty minutes later, four other Around the World cars are waiting to meet us. There’s no need to run at this point—we’re obviously in last place—but Samir does, so I do, too, just to make things easier for Robby. Together we sprint through the gate, across the wide oval lawn, and toward the double staircase at the front of the castle, where Isis is standing. The enormous, brick-red building looms behind her, its chimneys and dome-topped turrets shining a soft gold in the light of the evening sun. I’m glad my elimination point is a beautiful one. With my head held high, I step into the spotlights that surround our host and her archway of flags.

“Welcome to the Cupid’s Nest, Samir and Claire,” Isis says. “You’re in last place. Your race around the world has come to an end.”





Samir lets out an unearthly howl as he hurls his pack onto the ground and kicks it. “This is all your fault!” he screams at me, flecks of spit flying from his mouth. “I hate you and your stupid panic attacks and your terrible directions and your total inability to retain basic information! I could have won this if it weren’t for you! I swear to God, you could not have been a worse partner if you’d wanted to lose!”

The other teams were resting along the edges of the lawn when we arrived, out of sight of the cameras, but Samir’s making such a scene that everyone creeps closer for a better look. I wait until I’m sure Miranda’s within earshot, and then I turn back to Samir.

“I did want to lose, you idiot,” I say. “You think I’m really as incompetent as I seemed today? I thought you were a theater major. Can’t you tell when someone is acting?”

I’m pretty sure the vein in Samir’s temple is going to explode and spray me with blood at any moment. “You sabotaged us on purpose? What the hell, Claire? If you couldn’t handle the race, you could’ve just quit! You didn’t have to throw away my chance at a million dollars. Don’t you ever think about anyone but yourself?”

The way his words echo Miranda’s is a little disturbing, but this time, I know I’m in the right. “Actually, I do,” I say. I point to the Team Revenge logo on my filthy T-shirt. “Do you see what this says, Samir? It’s not a joke. You can’t treat people the way you treated Miranda and expect to get away with it.”

His eyes bug out. “What happened between Miranda and me is none of your freaking business!”

“When you love someone, her happiness is your business. You messed with me when you messed with her. That’s what loyalty means. But I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that.” I glance over at Miranda to make sure she’s listening, and she is. “After what you did to my sister, she shouldn’t have to look at your smug face for one more second. It’s time for you to go home.”

When I look around the lawn, I see shocked expressions on every face. Will is staring at me, but my eyes skate right over him and land on Miranda. My sister’s lips are slightly parted, and her forehead is furrowed like she’s trying to reset her brain. And for the first time since I was in middle school, I feel like she’s actually seeing me. I’m exhausted and smelly and covered in soot and dirt and dried pudding, but I have never felt so powerful as I do right now. Even with all these eyes on me, I’m not the least bit stiff or embarrassed. I’m not even blushing. I want everyone to look at me, the girl who’s wily and smart, the girl who stands up for the people she loves, the girl who nearly fell apart but rebounded stronger than ever.

Isis looks a little baffled, but she recovers quickly. “Samir, do you have anything to say for yourself?” she asks.

“If you’re taking suggestions, you might consider apologizing to Miranda,” I say.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look as pissed as Samir does right now. “Screw all of you,” he snaps. He turns on his heel and stalks off, leaving his pack behind. A producer tries to intercept him as he storms toward the parking lot, but he brushes right past her. “I don’t have to listen to you anymore,” I hear him say. “What’re you gonna do, eliminate me?”

Isis squints past the floodlights that surround us. “Where’s Miranda? Could you come over here, please?”

Miranda steps out of the shadows, but when she gets close enough to touch me, she holds back like she’s not sure she’s welcome. There’s a lot we need to work through, but at this moment, all I want to do is hug her. I reach out my arms, and she throws herself into them. We’re both sticky and filthy, but neither of us cares, and we cling to each other.