Page 7 of Sweet Surrender
Oh no. A large wave rose right behind her.
Allie wasn’t sure what to do. Should she surf the wave? Did she even know how? Nope. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut and ducked beneath the water, letting the wave crash over her. A few quick moments later, she broke through the water’s surface unscathed and quickly scanned ahead again.
Barra was right there. She was maddeningly within reach. But what would Allie do if she caught up with her? Would she yank her arm back and demand an apology? But which apology? By now there were several that she owed Allie.
Allie didn’t have time to think this through because the water shallowed abruptly and then her knee knocked something hard. Pain shot up her leg. She reached for her shin to check if she was bleeding, but the waves shoved at her hips and tugged her sideways. She prayed there weren’t sharks around that would be drawn to fresh blood. She felt like a fucking rag doll.
“Barra’s out of the water!” Vivian called from the shore. Allie snapped her head up to see Vivian standing by the flag. She funneled her hands in front of her mouth like a megaphone and yelled, “So are Elodie and Margaret.”
Allie barely noticed pink-haired Elodie and the woman running beside her. Her focus was entirely on Barra, whose long legs took graceful strides across the sand.
“Here comes Tilly,” Vivian shouted just as a woman with ice-blonde hair burst out of the surf like she’d been launched from a cannon. She whipped right past Allie, who came splashing out after her. “Allie’s out. Another newbie!”
At the sound of her name, Allie’s chest bloomed with hope. She was fifth. She was going to make it, although she had no idea how. Her legs were feeling so heavy that she wasn’t sure how she was going to manage a sprint. She’d never actually sprinted in her life. She prayed adrenaline would kick in. She’d heard stories of mothers lifting cars off injured children and hoped this was the same biological phenomenon.
But then... her foot caught in the wet sand.
At the edge of the rainforest, the flag whipped from its bamboo pole in a blur of crimson and sun-bleached black fabric. She barreled toward it with her arms pumping and her eyes locked on the target. Then, without warning, she was airborne. Her face hit the sand first, and the force of it knocked all the oxygen from her lungs.
From somewhere that felt far away, she heard Vivian’s voice. “Allie’s down! And Juniper has just shot past her.”
And she was down. She was lying on her stomach, completely stunned as the ocean roared behind her. Someone’s foot pounded past her shoulder, and she suddenly had an image of Mufasa being trampled in The Lion King.
But she wasn’t going to die. Not today.
So, she spat sand out of her mouth and shoved herself up onto her knees. Her hair was hanging in wet ropes over her face, and her blouse, a lightweight ivory silk Magda Butrym that production had approved, was now clinging to her like a second skin. Down below she could feel her knee throbbing. If she were bleeding, she didn’t know. There wasn’t any time to check. She had to get to that flag.
“And we’ve got our first six!” Vivian called.
Allie snapped her head up toward the flag only to spot Vivian clapping her hands as six women stood gathered around the pole. One of them was Barra.
Chapter Five
By the time Barra’s breathing had settled and her lungs felt somewhat normal, Vivian was already halfway through announcing the pairings.
Barra wasn’t going to lie, she preferred picking stones. Leaving it up to fate felt easier to do, and frankly, the whole choosing thing felt painfully like high school. Barra hadn’t particularly enjoyed high school. Lila Greet, who was now known as Lila Whitaker, had made sure of that. Blessed in the chest, Lila had hit puberty two full years before Barra had, and she’d wielded that advantage like a sword. She’d decided Barra was weird because her name was Barbara. “Only old ladies are called Barbara,” Lila had said. “Were you born an old lady?” And because she didn’t flirt with boys, which made sense years later when Barra had kissed Megan Russo in a booth at Shake Shack over a smokehouse burger dripping barbecue sauce and melted cheddar. And also because she’d spent a concerning amount of time sketching buildings in the margins of her notebooks. She wasn’t drawing arrow-pierced hearts or brand logos like everyone else. Nope. She’d copied the brownstone facades along Lexington Avenue and drawn the art déco crown of the Chrysler Building from memory.
It hadn’t mattered how fast she could run, how strong she was; thanks to Lila fucking Greet, she’d been picked last for every single kickball game, gym dodgeball, and intramural volleyball match.
“Elodie picks Anna,” Vivian announced, tossing a bruised purple buff toward a woman wearing a black Guns N’ Roses T-shirt with a faded denim overshirt tied at her waist.
She watched Elodie hug Anna and thought only to herself that Elodie had made a grave mistake. Surely a winner shouldn’t be picking another winner. She’d basically painted a big red sign on her back sayingVOTE ME OUT. But then again, Elodie had been a very clever player in her season. She’d let others burn themselves before making her move. Whatever her plan was, Barra was smart enough to be wary.
“Next up is Tilly,” Vivian said, pointing toward the woman with the ice-blonde hair and pale white skin that wouldn’t have survived two minutes in the Flinders Ranges. If she’d applied two seasons ago, Barra was sure the casting director would’ve given her a firm no. Too much risk.
Tilly didn’t hesitate for even a second. “I choose Toph,” she said, grinning with all her teeth. And she had lots of them. Or at least a smile that showed all of them.
Barra’s heart sank just a little. She was dead set on picking a newbie. But if she were going to intentionally shoot herself in the foot and pick a former winner, Toph would’ve been the one she’d do it with. Her game in Season Three, which had taken place on the wild, wind-lashed coast of South Africa, had been admirable. Not only was she a physical threat—she played softball for the Carolina Comets—but she was also extremely intelligent. She worked for NASA as an astrophysicist. Her name had popped up in Scientific American several times. Barra was a mild fan.
“Barra,” Vivian called, yanking Barra back to earth. She smiled so sweetly that Barra had felt a whiff of nostalgia. Season Five ofOutlast Herhad both given and taken. “Who would you like to pair up with?”
Barra scanned the four people who were left: Connie, who had arrived second-to-last at the flag. Her usually long, flamingred hair was in a pixie cut. Beside her was a woman with hair so black it was almost blue, and she had equally as dark eyes. She wore a loose white T-shirt printed with a vintage sunflower and the wordsGood Vibes Onlyin curling letters on the front. Beside her was a dark blonde, and then next to her... Allie.
Barra didn’t let her gaze linger on Allie. In fact, she barely spared her even a glance. Though the less she looked at her, the more guilty she felt. Not just for the wedding, but for her behavior at the airport. Allie deserved an apology. Two. Maybe even a third for taking so long to apologize. But honestly, it would have to wait just a bit longer.
“I choose her,” Barra said, pointing toward the blonde who had her hands on her hips. She was tall, lean in that way that might imply a volleyball player, and her mouse-blonde hair darkened to honey where it clung damply to her temples. She had a sharp, straight nose and strong thighs that were dusted with sand. Her sneakers were identical to Barra’s. There was also the uncanny resemblance between her and Dominique, though Barra put that down to pure coincidence. She was absolutely not picking her teammate just because she could be Dominique’s doppelgänger.
“Hazel,” Vivian said, smiling. “Come on up and fetch your buff.”
