Page 40 of Winging It with You

“Great.” I groan, placing my forehead against the coolwindow while everyone else starts to exit the van. Jo and Arthur begin setting up their camera equipment, but when I get out I scan the scene searching for any clue as to what we—I—could possibly be getting into. Theo comes up behind me, slinging his big arm around my shoulders and pulling me close to him. “You nervous?”

“I mean,that’snot helping.”

The other contestants begin to join us around the second staging area. Besides the usual sound equipment and cables snaking their way through the grass, there appear to be makeshift individual zones created out of dark fabric hung from PVC pipes, one for each team.

“Here,” Jo says, handing me a laminated card with a block number three written in bright yellow. “Good luck!”

Arthur resumes filming, and though it’s taken a minute, I’ve almost gotten used to constantly having his camera in my face.

We’re rolling.

Theo laces his fingers through mine, the only thing grounding me at the moment.

Camera three on Dalton.

“And we’re back with our next challenge,” Dalton’s voice booms as he steps forward. “But there’s a twist. Behind me are individual mini challenges for each of our teams,” Dalton continues, circling the camera. “We’ve watched in awe as they’ve competed as pairs, but today, we polled our viewers and America has voted on challenges that will be competed individually.”

Pan to the screens.

“Contestants, if you’ll please step forward to the number that corresponds with the card you were handed earlier.”

Theo bumps me with his shoulder before pulling me toward zone three.

Instant dread floods my veins. The best part of all this has been facing the unknown with Theo. But now, whatever lies behind this curtain, I have to face alone.

“On the count of three,” Dalton shouts. “We will reveal the challenge that America has chosen for each of you. One…”

Please be something with math.

“Two…”

I’d happily settle for some sort of puzzle. I look over at Theo, who’s all but vibrating with excitement. I would give anything to have a fraction of his…Theo-ness?All smiles and heaps of unbridled energy.

“Three…”

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

The thick velvet curtains drop to reveal two large glass tanks.

One is empty, from what I can tell, and large enough for a grown man to lie down inside.

The smaller one is filled with something that makes my stomach recoil.

Snakes.

Their scaled bodies press against the glass, twisting around each other and searching for their escape like slippery magicians straight out of every single one of my nightmares.

No, no, no. I cannot do whatever it is that these production pricks have planned. I don’t care that America voted for me to do it, which feels like a giant middle finger to me, thank you very much. But no. Snakes are quite literally my worst fear and the one thing on this planet I’ve actively gone out of my way to never, ever, under any circumstances, be around.

“You don’t look so good, kid,” Arthur’s voice rips me from my inner panic. He’s momentarily lowered his camera—a first.

“Arthur, there’s no way inhellI can do this.”

“That’s just the fear talking.”

“No, you don’t understand,” I say, my heart rate spiking. “I can’t do snakes…”

But before he can respond, we are joined by a man dressed head to toe in every shade of khaki and what exposed skin there is has been tanned within an inch of its life. “Asher, right? My name’s Wyatt,” he says, extending a weathered hand in my direction. I shake it, or at least I think I do. I’m beginning to think I’ve fully lost my grip on reality, and all I can do is stare at the sea of swirling serpents just feet away. “I’m the animal handler on call today, and I’m here to walk you through the challenge, make sure that none of the animals get hurt.”

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