Page 6 of Wandering Wild

That prompts a chuckle from me. “That was set in New Zealand. Hawke’s taking us to Australia.”

Her eyes flare with interest. “Australia? You didn’t mention that before.”

I grimace. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Australia is amazing.” Summer makes a wistful sound. “That’ll be so much better than freezing your ass off in the Arctic Circle, or boiling in some African desert.”

She has a point. But I still say, “I’ve heard everything in Australia wants to kill you.”

Summer waves a dismissive hand. “The survival part isn’t going to be your problem—you’re unnaturally good at all that outdoorsy stuff. It’s the fan aspect that’s going to be your biggest challenge. And... you know...” She clears her throat. “The rest.”

I deliberately ignore the last part of what she said, stretching my jeans-clad legs out as I share, “Did I tell you there’s been over ten million entries since the comp went live three days ago? Thank God it closes tonight. I feel sick just thinking about why so many people have entered.”

Summer’s lips twitch and she relaxes against the railing behind her. “You do realize that at least nine-point-nine million of them want to win because they’re hoping you’ll fall madly in love with them, right?”

I pull a face. “And the remaining point-one mil?”

Her lip twitch grows into a full, wicked smirk. “They’re hoping for something a lot less wholesome.” Before I can reply—not that I even know what to say to that—she sobers and asks, “Have you spoken with your parents about this yet?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “They’re about as thrilled as you are.” That’s an understatement. But they also know how much the role of Titan means to me, and how far I’ll go to keep it.

Carefully, Summer prompts, “And Maddox?”

My gut tightens. “He still won’t take my calls.”

There’s a hesitant pause, before Summer says, “It’s been three months.”

I don’t need the reminder. “You know how he feels about what happened that night.”

Both of us fall silent, neither needing—orwanting—to talk about the night of my DUI. Maddox, especially, doesn’t want to talk about it. My best friend is icing me out, and even though I understand why, I still hate it.

Compassion fills Summer’s eyes, but I don’t want to hear what she’s about to say, so I jump in first to share, “Once the winner is notified—tomorrow, I think Gabe said—I’ll be boarding a plane straight to Sydney, so I doubt we’ll have another chance to talk until it’s all over. But Hawke’s team have pulled some strings and they’ve arranged to slot the episode into their current release schedule, so you’ll at least get to witness my misery almost as soon as it happens.”

“‘Misery’ is a strong word—let’s stay positive here,” Summer says, before catching my skeptical look and quickly moving on. “Do you know when the episode is dropping? And where?”

I rattle off the names of the streaming services, but as for the timing, I shake my head. “It depends on how good their editing team is, but Gabe said they’re aiming to upload the full episode a day or so after we’re done. It’s pure luck that Hawke owed Valentina a favor and agreed to make this happen much faster than normal, otherwise there’s no way it’d be ready within the time the studio gave me.”

“Don’t think about that now,” Summer says soothingly. “Everything is falling into place, and it’s all going to work out perfectly.”

Her conviction has me arching an eyebrow. “I thought you said I was insane for doing this?”

She grins. “I stand by that. But I’ll also be stocking up on popcorn since I’m in dire need of some quality entertainment, and you, my friend, are going to deliver. Four days in the wild with a crazy stalker-fan?” She snickers. “I can’t wait to watch that. On repeat.”

I glare at her. “You’re awful.”

Her grin widens. “Love you, too, Zan. Call me when you’re back in civilization.” She winks, before finishing, “And try not to fall in love with your stalker-fan, or I’ll never let you live it down.”

She air-kisses the screen and terminates our call, missing the eye roll I offer in response to her words.

Combing a hand through my hair, I glance out at my view once more, noting the swiftly darkening sky. I need to go for a run before dinner, but an impulse comes over me, and I tap my phone to activate a new call. As anticipated, it rings only twice before I’m sent to voicemail, like every other time I’ve tried in the last three months.

“Yo! You’ve reached Maddox. Leave a message.”

When the beep sounds, I begin talking automatically, stumbling over the words. “Hey, it’s me. Uh, Zander. I just... well, I wanted to let you know that I’m heading overseas for about a week. Not sure if you’ve seen the media blast, but Gabe’s got me doing this competition thing to help with—” I break off quickly, careful not to bring up my public image problems to Maddox of all people.

“Listen,” I say, quieter, “I get it, man. You know I do. But please... call me back.” I pull out the big guns and add, “I have to go camping, Mox. Four days, with Rykon Hawke and a fan. And I just... after everything that happened...” I pause, take a breath, then finish weakly, “I’d feel a lot better if I could talk to you before I leave.”

I hang up without saying goodbye, already knowing Maddox isn’t going to return my call. No amount of pleading over the last three months has moved him to communicate with me, and any attempts I’ve made to visit him in person have led to him closing the door in my face—the first time—or not opening it at all—every time since then.

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