“I can’t believe you didn’t tell her about it,” Valerie said, packing a stack of wet kindling next to the fire to dry. “She’s your pair.”
Tamera snorted. “Sienna only told me because I forced the information out of her. I caught her with powdered sugar all over her lips. I’m still halfway to forgiving her.”
Sienna rolled her eyes but smiled.
Isla yanked the shoe off her right foot and frowned. “Just because we’re pairs doesn’t mean we aren’t competitors. In fact, we were each other’s biggest threats. I didn’t tell Safiya because if I get to the end, the Final Council will vote for whoever’s actually played the game.”
Adrienne hadn’t thought about it that way. Not for a long while, at least. Her eyes drifted to Valerie, whose face was illuminated by the dancing firelight. Valerie was her biggest competitor. She would be the absolute last obstacle between Adrienne and the title ofUltimate Outlast Her. The thought lodged icily in her chest and then dragged itself down to the tips of her toes.
Valerie seemed to ponder the enormity of what Isla had said, too. She paused with a piece of dry kindling hovering over the flames. She looked a little green.
“This game is twisted,” Tamera murmured, drawing her knees up to her chest before she wrapped her arms tightly around them. “Has anyone readLord of the Flies?”
Isla snorted. “None of us are losing our minds.”
“Yet,” Sienna said, then peeled herself off the ground to her feet. “Bedtime,” she added. “I have a feeling the next few days are going to get crazy.”
“Me too,” Isla said, letting out a massive yawn she didn’t bother to cover. “Probably best to get some sleep before Safiya puts a crab on my head.”
There were a few soft chuckles, then only Adrienne and Valerie were left around the fire pit. There was no way Adrienne could sleep right now. If she closed her eyes, her brain would conjure up a million scenarios of her and Valerie standing in front of the Final Council. And then she wondered, who would stab the other in the back first?
“Do you want to go for a walk to the limestones?” Valerie asked after a minute. “I promise we won’t talk about anything serious.” She held up three fingers, palm facing out. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you ever actually a scout?”
“Thunderbird Troop Forty-two from ages eight to ten,” Valerie said, grinning. “My vest was covered with badges. First Aid, Outdoor Adventure. You name it. For our big winter badge, the troop leaders took us out in the Tongass and made us build a quinzee.”
“Quinzee?”
“It’s a mix between a snow fort and an igloo.”
“Adorable,” Adrienne said. Then she waited for Valerie to walk past before she followed.
Together they walked along the shore, feet in the water until the dark sand gave way to the shelves of limestone. Adrienne sat down, rested her feet on a makeshift ledge, and ran a palm across the rock. Above, a cloud was drifting over the stars, snuffing half of them out. She could hear the faint scuttling of a ghost crab darting across the rocks. Or at least she hoped it was a crab.
“You seriously want to build a house in Sitka?” Adrienne asked, only because the crab made her think of Valerie in Alaska where there were literal bears that could peel a car door open like a tin of sardines, but also because she was tallying the deal breakers and the list was already growing. Reason number one why it would never work: Valerie wanted to live in Sitka.
“I do,” Valerie said. “For myself and my parents. I’ve spent so much time away from them, even while my mom’s been sick. I don’t want to do that anymore.”
Reason number two: Valerie wanted to live close to her parents. Adrienne loved her parents, yes, but from a distance. She went on bi-annual ski trips with Elisabet and Dixon, where they’d meet for après-ski drinks before retreating to separate wings of the chalet. But if she had to stay within a five-mile radius of them, she would lose her mind.
“I understand,” Adrienne said.
Valerie picked up a stray pebble and clutched it tightly in her fist. “I wasn’t going to join this season,” she said after a while. “Elise sent me an email ages ago asking if I wanted a second shot, and I didn’t. I had a full year of charters lined up aboardThe Valentine. I planned to make enough money to get the construction started. I didn’t want to come back onOutlast Her.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Would you believe it if I said you did?” Valerie asked, turning toward Adrienne. Her face was becoming harder to readnow that the moon was hidden by a cloud. “That night after you told me you were going onOutlast Her, I wrote Elise back and asked if she still had a spot for me.”
For a second Adrienne thought Valerie was joking, and her first reaction was to throw one back at her. “You know you could’ve just asked for my number, right?”
But then Valerie sighed and glanced ahead again, and Adrienne knew it was more than that. “I didn’t want to speak to you,” she said. “It was more like the thought of you winning something I couldn’t was nauseating. I guess my pride couldn’t take it.”
Brutal honesty. Adrienne had to admit it hurt. But only in the same way a splash of high-percentage glycolic acid hurts for a minute. “Thank you for telling me.”
Valerie let out a self-deprecating huff. “I’m the worst.”
Adrienne scooted closer until her thigh touched the outside of Valerie’s knee. “You’re not the worst,” she said and meant it. “And honestly, I’m a little flattered.”