“Tell that to Logan.” Sydney walks over to the spotlight and shuts it off.
“Hey,” the toothpaste commercial says. “How will he find us?”
“I don’t really care. He wants to stay out for an advantage? Let him stay out all night.” Sydney stomps back to her cot.
Ava stands, stretching.
“Thank you,” Mack says, the words like an offering placed on the altar of an unknown god. She doesn’t know what else to do, how to respond to kindness. “I can get you?” She’s never massaged anyone. But she doesn’t like being in debt, doesn’t like the way she already misses Ava’s hands on her. She can’t owe someone she’s so inclined to like.
“Nah, you look beat. Get some rest. Another day of perfect stillness ahead of you.” Ava’s grin is strained. Mack realizes how tired the other woman looks.
“You sleep at all?”
“Don’t feel safe,” Ava says as she walks to her own cot.
* * *
—
Mack wakes in the middle of the night. She tiptoes silently to the bathroom. Hushed voices catch her attention on her way back to bed. Two figures sit on the edge of the camp. At first she suspects beautiful Ava and Jaden. Then she realizes the man is crying silently.
“It’s okay,” Ava—Mack’s Ava—murmurs. “I’ll sit with you until morning.”
Mack can’t tell who the man is. But the way he’s curled around himself tells a story Mack is familiar with.
“You shouldn’t,” he says. LeGrand.
“Got nothing better to do.”
Mack feels a tug from the center of her chest. LeGrand is in pain. She wants to keep vigil with him. With Ava.
She goes back to her cot.
DAY TWO
Mack beats the alarm. She leaves yesterday’s clothes folded under her cot and snags an extra blanket from the supply table. It’s lightweight, dark color. Perfect.
“Hey, are you allowed to use props?” Jaden asks.
The clipboard guy sits up, rubbing his eyes blearily. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Nothing in the rules against it.” The jewelry woman shifts, her pretty heart necklace falling free of her tank top. She slowly puts on all her rings and bracelets, like suiting up with armor. Checks her bandage. It’s seeped a bit, but not too much. “Besides, one blanket is hardly an advantage.”
Mack feels bad now for not remembering what her name is.
“We don’t know that,” Jaden says.
“Then take one, too,” Ava snaps. Her eyes are red, bruised hollows beneath them. She hasn’t slept at all. “Don’t give Mack shit.”
“Speaking of shit.” Jaden nods to Atrius, who’s at the table, eating, beanie pulled low. “Where were you last night?”
Atrius shrugs. “Exploring.”
“That’s cheating!”
Atrius grins. “Sorry, I mean, I got lost. Someone turned off the spotlight.”
“Yeah, fuck you.” Sydney brushes her hair with vicious force. “If you win, I’ll file a formal complaint.”
Atrius’s grin warms something in Mack. He so genuinely doesn’t care. She heads to the table—blanket in her bag—and nibbles, picking her supplies for the day. Atrius’s hands and arms are covered in a fine mist of dried paint.
He notices her gaze. “Leaving my mark on the competition.”
“And if they don’t use this site again?”
“I do it for the sake of doing it.” It sounds rehearsed. Mack is disappointed. She suspects he wants an audience as much as Sydney and beautiful Ava, just in a different way.
“Okay,” she says.
“It’s a maze,” he blurts, spinning a can of spray paint and shoving it into the back pocket of his sagging pants.
“Your art?” Mack wants out of this conversation as soon as the question leaves her mouth, wishes she hadn’t asked.
He frowns, then pauses thoughtfully. “The art is a maze. The maze is art. Hmm.” He wanders away, back into the park.
“The alarm didn’t go off yet!” Sydney shouts after him. Muttering to herself, Sydney grabs the whole aerosol can of sunscreen and disappears into the predawn dark.
Rosiee has her eyes closed and appears to be repeating directions to herself. Mack suspects she’s heading for the same spot she hid in yesterday. Makes sense. Mack is, too. She isn’t in a rush, though, reasonably confident she can find her spot again. She uses the bathroom, then double-checks her bag.
LeGrand walks past Ava. Neither says anything, but she nods. And, to Mack’s surprise, he nods back. He seems confused and tentative, even scared, as he mumbles, “Good luck,” before ducking into the bathroom.