Page 115 of Tourist Trap

"I just think—" he starts, and again, she cuts him off.

"Maybe you should worry about your own employees before worrying about mine," Helen says, tipping her chin toward his team, two of whom are fighting in an escalating volume.

He groans, then moves toward the two beefheads who look like they're about to throw blows. Brad moves quickly toward them, breaking it up but almost getting hit in the process, and I fight a laugh as I watch it.

Miles pulls me to his side, pressing his lips to my hair. "We've got this in the bag, babe."

* * *

Each event for the beach games is a bit different, but at the end of each one, each team is assigned points based on their ranking in that game: first place gets ten points, second place gets eight, and so on, until last place gets zero points.

Six teams are registered in total, all vying for the title ofbeach games champion. This seemed alarming to me, and I asked Miles what happens ifneitherof them wins the games. But according to him, they only have to beateach other.

Since I’m head lifeguard, I have to work the event, which we decided was best because I can run my chaos in the background and make sure the other team plays by the rules, even if we plan to bend them a bit.

The first event is a tug of war game, and after the Locals beat two other teams, they’re up against Surf. I expect Paul to be at the front of their line, facing off against Miles, but I should have known Brad would want to face down Miles.

“Are you ready to lose?” Brad asks Miles with a wide smile. Paul stands behind him, while Miles has Grant at his back. The rest of the team is in line behind him, ready to pull.

“I’m ready to play,” Miles says, not giving in to the taunt.

Brad opens his mouth to speak, but the referee starts his countdown.

“Get ready…set…tug!” the referee shouts, and the teams begin pulling. There’s a line in between the two teams that if either steps over, they lose, and I watch it like a hawk. With the first tug, Miles takes a small step closer to the line, and my heart sinks. But the smile on his face when Brad lets out a laugh tells me Miles might have some mischievous plans of his own.

“Let’s go, Miles!” my dad yells from behind me, sitting in the sand with my family. “Make that asshole eat sand!”

Miles’s smile goes wider, but he doesn’t say anything or even shift his focus.

“It’s going to be a shame, Claire’s family watching you lose everything today,” Paul says through gritted teeth, clearly trying to egg on Miles despite struggling to pull.

But Miles stays silent, tugging at the rope, and I watch him take a step back as Brad and his team tug a bit closer to the line. My heart starts to pound, my hands sweaty as I jump in place to try and get rid of the nervous energy.

“Because you are going to lose everything, you know,” Brad adds. It’s clear he’s goading Miles, but his cocky attitude is faltering as he’s pulled another inch closer to the line in the center. “I can’t wait to tear down that piece of junk,” Brad says through gritted teeth.

Miles’s smile widens then, and he shouts, “Now!” booming and loud, and I realize then the team wasn’t putting all of their strength into it. Lainey, Jonah, and June go red as the muscles on Grant, Deck, and Miles all strain, tugging hard and quick.

It happens then and it happens quick: the team is pulled over the line, but not only that, Brad falls face-first into the sand, just like my dad predicted, his hands still on the rope and unable to catch himself.

I give Miles a wide smile and a thumbs-up as the team cheers, and I slowly reach Brad. We decided early on that if something like this happened, I would have to do my job and make sure the other team was okay before I celebrate, so Brad wouldn’t have a reason to argue since I’m technically working today.

“You okay, Brad?” I ask as he slowly sits up. There’s a small cut beneath his nose, but he doesn’t seem injured, just a bruised ego. He brushes sand off his face, eyes glaringly locked on the jumping Locals who won the first game. Paul offers him a hand, but he slaps it out of the way before standing and brushing off the helping hand.

“I’m fucking fine,” he grumbles. “Let’s get the next game going.” And as he walks back over to where his things are, I watch the scoreboard—yes, it seems Brad rented a wholescoreboard—turn, giving The Locals ten points and Team Surf eight.

We’re off to a good start.

The afternoon goes on, and even though I'm on the clock and it should be a stressful time, it's some of the most fun I've had all summer. I love watching Miles and my friends all compete, beating the assholes at their own game. Half the town is here cheering on The Locals, and even the people who came to cheer on Surf seem to be switching alliances with each round as Brad somehow makes himself more and more unlikable.

His team got first place in the water balloon toss, getting himself ten points to our four (it seems none of our guys have soft hands and popped every single balloon that came their way, something that even though it was disappointing, I laughed so hard at, I couldn't breathe) and got six points to our eight during musical beach towels, though they lost whatever small portion of the cheering section they had when Brad pushed a kid to the ground to win and made her cry.

Next up is Beach Twister, for which we chose former gymnast June to be our contestant. She lasts long, until it's just her and some beefy guy on Brad's team left. I’m not quite sure how the man made it this far, but I don’t think he’ll be in much longer, not when I spot Benny stepping over with a bucket set a foot from the edge of the oversized Twister mat. I roll my lips between my teeth as I watch him conspicuously dump the bucket in the direction of the game.

Six hermit crabs come tumbling out, including Big Gina, still in her bedazzled shell, though I've given her a bunch of new ones to choose from. Clearly excited to be out and about, they start scrambling along the sand, making their way to the colorful mat.

I catch Jonah's eye and wink at him as he gives me a thumbs up, and then I hear June call out too loudly to be natural, "Is that a hermit crab?"

"What? Where?" the guy twisted next to her yells.

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