Page 37 of Ex Marks the Spot

“Don’t be jealous because I’m making friends and you’re not.”

“Padma and Bobby are my friends and I’m not propositioning them.”

“Alexis and Gianna weren’t propositioning me either.”

“Okay,” she says sarcastically.

“And furthermore, why do you care who propositions me?”

“I don’t. I just want you to stay focused on the race, not whose pants you’re getting in.” She turns in a huff and stomps in the direction of the clue box.

Not to be outdone, I stride past her.

So she runs.

And then I run.

By the time we reach the clue box, we’re sprinting. At the last second, Hartley shoves my shoulder, which, combined with my momentum, sends me flying a dozen feet to the right of the clue box.

“Ha! I win!” She does a ridiculous dance as she pulls out a blue-and-orange envelope.

“Only because you cheated,” I say, backtracking to her.

“Don’t be a sore loser.”

Taking my place behind her, I whisper, “Trust me. I don’t lose.”

Our clue from San Ignacio Miní took us to a kiosk in Plaza San Martín in the heart of a city called Posadas. A sweet older woman selling churros gives us our next envelope.

“It’s a solo challenge,” Hartley says.

Who can we count on?

“I’m better at numbers. I’ll do it.”

“Surprise, surprise,” she mutters as I take the challenge card from her.

“What does that mean?

“You’re hogging the solos.”

“No, I’m not.”

Her hands fly wildly through the air before landing on her hips. “I’m sorry, it must’ve been myotherteammate who made espresso in Sarchí and worked at a fish market in São Paulo.”

“You don’t even like espresso, and I seriously doubt you wanted to be up to your elbows in fish guts.”

She opens her mouth to say something but apparently changes her mind and settles on, “Whatever. Have fun counting.”

“Thank you. I will.” I unseal the card, which says:

Go to the Museo de Arte?—

“What? Unbelievable.” Hartley’s arms are back in the air again, but this time she’s pacing in front of the kiosk. “The auto chop shop guy gets to see an international art museum while I get to sit outside, and we can’t switch without taking a three-hour time penalty. This is great. Just. Freaking. Great.”

I hold my palms up. “It saidcounting! How was I supposed to know the challenge would be at an art museum?”

“Ugh!” She completes another paced circle, then stops and aims a finger at me. “The next solo challenge is mine, Courtney. So help me god.”

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