“What the fuck was that?” Arno had been sleeping fitfully for a few hours, but when he heard the yowl outside the tent, he was definitely awake. Greta and Mickey sat up, and they all peeped outside. Prowling the campsite were four or five mangy-looking dogs.
“Coyotes,” Mickey said.
“No, just wild dogs,” Arno said. He scooted out from the palm tent and grabbed one of the sticks they had been using to tend the fire. He thrust it into the remaining embers, so that the end caught into flame. He waved it back and forth at the dogs, who howled at him but didn’t come any closer.
Arno grabbed one of the many pieces of leftover fish and threw it far into the night.
“Now git!” he shouted, sounding more cowboylike than he had meant to. Or than he thought was capable of. The dogs scattered after the fish. Arno took a seat by the fire, feeling revved. He stayed there, long after Mickey and Greta had gone back to sleep. He thought about them in the tent by themselves, and how Mickey might be making a move. He thought about loneliness, and lots of other weighty topics that usually never occurred to him, or, frankly, ever touched on his everyday life. After a while, when he was very tired and convinced that the dogs weren’t coming back, he crawled back into the tent and shut his eyes.
He felt beat and capable and much better about himself. As his mind faded into dream, he felt Greta turn in her sleep and curl up against him. That’s right, he thought, in their subconscious minds all girls, even the ones with boyfriends, dream of me.
“All right, sailors, race begins in half an hour!”
The little group camped high above the rocky cove stirred but didn’t fully wake for several minutes. Mickey snored lightly, and Greta was still wrapped up in Arno’s arms. When Stephanie made her second bullhorn announcement, they all lurched up and quickly assumed some new position. Stepping out of the makeshift tent, they saw that it was still early dawn, the sky rosy and the air crisp and new.
The Ariadne was far closer to the island than when the survival test had begun. They could see Stephanie’s motorboat circling the island and waking up all the other teams. The staff had collected all the dinghies during the night, and they had to wake up quickly for the race back to shore. Arno felt like something had happened during the night, like he was more focused and competitive and inside his own body now. He also thought that Greta looked entirely adorable, stretching to wake herself up and combing her hair with her fingers.
He watched Mickey moving foggily around the camp. It didn’t really seem like competition to Arno.
They stamped out the embers in the fire, collected their survival kit, and headed down to the shore. When Stephanie shouted through the bullhorn, “On your marks. Get set. Go!” They all waded into the water, gasping at the cold and cursing themselves for having signed up for the test.
Perhaps because it was still so early in the day, they concentrated on their swimming and didn’t think about the depth of the water, or how tired they were. They swam harder for several lengths, and when the three of them reached the Ariadne, in unison, just as the rules instructed, they popped out and saw that they were the first team to arrive. The crew threw down ladders from the top deck and they climbed back up to comfort and safety. When they reached the deck, they saw Barker and his guests, and Patch, who looked deeply bored, behind them.
“Team fifteen!” Barker boomed. “An excellent morning swim! You come in first place for the final segment of the test. Now go get yourselves cleaned up. We have breakfast on the deck in forty-five minutes, and as soon as we get all the teams on board we set sail for Barcelona.”
They slapped hands with Patch, and Greta gave him a kiss on the check, and then team fifteen headed to their individual cabins to clean off the cold memory of Barker Island.
When they reached Greta’s cabin, Arno put his hand on her waist and said, “You were great today. And you should know that you look gorgeous all wet and flushed like that.”
“Uh, thanks,” Greta said. Arno winked and started walking down the hall.
Mickey looked after him furiously. He quickly kissed Greta on the cheek and then followed Arno down the hall.
“What the fuck was that?” he shouted after Arno. He didn’t turn around, and when Mickey caught up to him he shoved Arno’s shoulder. “I said, what the fuck was that?”
Arno did the eyebrow thing at him, which always made Mickey crazy. He ran at the wall behind him, bounced off it, and launched himself into Arno, who artfully dodged him. Mickey smacked into the opposite wall.
Arno continued to walk toward his room, but Mickey came after him growling. “Hey man! What’s wrong with you? Why are you always after the girl I like?” he shouted.
“Maybe I like her,” Arno said, shrugging. He pointed at the door of cabin 164. “That’s me. Thanks for keeping up with me in the race today—I was pleasantly surprised, actually.” He stepped inside, then waved at Mickey, who looked like he was about to detonate. “Oh, and Mickey? Try and behave yourself.”