Page 31 of Ex Marks the Spot

It takes less than ten minutes to get to the factory. Ignoring Court’s stupidgloating smirk about the time we saved, I head to the assembly area across from the main entrance to the building and drop my backpack at the workspace next to Padma and Bobby, who are nearly done with their cart.

“Is it hard?”

“There are a couple of tricky parts, but it’s not bad. You shouldn’t have any problems,” Padma says with a reassuring smile.

I open my mouth to tell her thanks, but the sound of clattering boards cuts me off. “What are you doing?” I direct at Court, who’s going back for more wood from our pile of supplies.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m building an ox cart.”

“How about we check out the example so we know how it’s supposed to look.”

“If you want to waste time, by all means.” He gestures grandiosely at the finished example near the factory entrance, then fills his arms with more wood.

I lift my eyes heavenward and release an exasperated sigh. “I’m so glad I have a partner who’s averse to common sense and directions.”

“I’m not averse to either of those things when necessary. Right now, it’s not.”

Right now, I want to smash his big toe with our hammer. Instead, I march over to the finished cart to study the little details, like which direction the nuts and bolts are facing. You know, the stuff contestants don’t realize they’ve screwed up until it’s too late.

Padma’s just called for a check, and I haven’t seen Moe and Randall so either they’re still in a helicopter or they took the “ox” version of the challenge, both of which mean we don’t have time for preventable errors.

I’m turning to head back when I notice one more important detail: I’m standing about twenty-five feet away from the work area. That’s the farthest I’ve been from Court since arriving in Dallas. Do I handle this like a mature adult? Of course not. Instead, I plant my feet, cross my arms, and fill my lungs with asshole-free air like the rulebreaker I am.

“I thought you were in a hurry,” he calls.

“I highly doubt taking five seconds to enjoy a reprieve from your presence is going to make or break our current standings.” I say this with a victorious smile because although it’s petty, throwing his words back in his face feels so,sogood. He just shakes his head and gathers the last of our supplies.

By the time I return, the Niles are donning their backpacks. Padma tosses an encouraging, “Good luck!” over her shoulder, and then it’s just me, Court, and a haphazard pile of materials.

“We should start with these,” he says, toeing a stack of one-by-two boards.

“Those are for the side walls.”

“I know.”

“We don’t need them yet. We should build the base first.” I shove a few boards off a metal axle and attempt to remove it from the pile. “Help me with this.”

Court steps around me and collects the skinnier boards. “Or you could help me with these. Once the walls are built, we can do the frame and pop the walls on.”

“Orrrwe can build the base first so we have something to attach the walls to.”

“No.”

I clench my hands into fists while wishing I could do the same to Court’s neck. “Why do you insist on being so stubborn?”

“I’m beinglogical,” he says as though he’s a frazzled parent explaining the basics of bedtime to a toddler. “If we assembly-line the walls now, we won’t have to stop and build them once we get the frame done.”

THE. AUDACITY.

“So let me get this straight—me having a different opinion on how to start this project automatically makes me illogical? God, I feel bad for your girlfriend.”

He pauses his...whatever the hell he’s doing with those damn boards and squints up at me. “My girlfriend?”

“Well, you’re not wearing a ring.” Not that I was looking per se, it’s just more of an overall observation.

He holds my gaze for another few seconds, then goes back to...seriously, what the hell is he doing?

“Grab those boards,” he says gruffly.

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