Page 117 of Tourist Trap

The sandcastle challenge lasts over an hour while other smaller events continue. The team puts Jonah in charge, and he takes his job seriously. I'm shocked to hear him boss Lainey, Grant, and Miles around during the hour the teams have to build. I have to turn away to hide my laughter more than once, but honestly, the kid is good.

I watch as they make an intricate castle, complete with a moat and seashells, driftwood, and sea glass that Lainey found on the shore, and mentally, I think I want one of them for my shell collection. It's impressive, though I have to admit the other teams have made pretty ones as well.

At the end of the competition, real judges walk by each creation, and I have to wonder just how much money Surf invested in this and if it could ever pay off. I guess a write-off is a write-off, but damn.

They walk up to our sandcastle and take it in. I'm not close enough to hear everything, but I catch glimpses of them talking to Jonah and watch with pride as he beams. No one else on our team talks or gives their own two cents, instead letting Jonah tell every aspect.

When they move to the Surf team, I see their kid team member making a small sandcastle in the corner with some buckets, where June told me she sat nearly the entire time after the other two team members told her to stop messing with theirrealcastle.

God, I fucking hate them so much. I can't wait for them to get what's coming for them. I'mhopingit will be a big fat L.

When it's time to announce the winners, I watch the judges hand out numbered scores. They announce Miles's team fourth, with a pretty solid score of eighty-nine out of one hundred that has Miles giving Jonah a high five while Grant pulls him in for a one-armed hug. They move through the crowd and give out another score, and by the time they make it to the Surf Club, my heart is pounding because there is only one castle left, and no one has beat eighty-nine.

"Come on," I whisper, eyes on the judges.

"And the score for Team Surf's recreation of a mermaid…" the judge says, then smiles wide before saying, "Eighty-five!"

"Oh my god!" I shout, then stand and run over to them. “Jonah! You did it!” Our team moves around the boy whose cheeks have gone bright red, despite his wide smile.

"Jonah! Jonah! Jonah!" June and I start to cheer, and soon everyone around us is joining in. Miles and Grant grab him, lifting him onto their shoulders as we all cheer his name, laughing and warm with joy at his win.

I look over to where there's a shout and see Brad pushing his teammates over into the sand and then destroying the sandcastle like a kid who lost a T-ball game, and I fight the urge to laugh before refocusing on cheering for Jonah.

The final event is beach volleyball, with four nets set up and teams rotating through them. Two people from each team enter the game, and Miles and Grant are the two for Team Locals. They quickly won each round, beating each of the teams they had gone up against before. Finally, it's them versus Brad and Paul.

With both teams tied at fifty-two, whoever wins this game wins the entire thing, and my nerves are on edge. But as Miles comes to his things to grab a drink of water before the last round, he doesn’t seem nervousat all.In fact, this might be among the most relaxed and content times I’ve seen him all summer.

“Why aren’t you worried?” I whisper as he sets his water down and pulls me in close. “You guys are tied.” Miles shrugs like it’s no big deal, then presses his lips to mine, kissing me quick and hard.

“Because we already won, Claire,” he says.

“Miles—”

“I’m serious. Look around us, babe. Look at this town, at everyone cheering, everyone who came out to support us. We won. What do they have?”

“Possibly your house?” I ask, and he smiles wider, then shakes his head.

“No, they don’t.” He’s so delusionally self-assured, I wonder if maybe he has heat stroke.

“Maybe you should talk to Brad really quick, see if?—”

“No. It’s all fine, Claire. No matter what happens, we’ve got this. I promise.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he kisses me again and steps back, a hand in mine.

“Do you trust me?”

I hesitate, but only for the slightest second. Not because the answer isn’t an all-consumingyes,but because of the look in his eyes.

He genuinely isn’t worried, and I’m not sure if it’s because he has some kind of trick up his sleeve or a plan for what happens if they lose, but I’m relieved to see it all the same. So I answer, “Always.”

He tugs me in once more and kisses me again. “Then let’s win this thing.”

We move together, hand in hand, to the team, where I look at my friends, this little family we’ve created, and put my hands on my hips.

“Okay, you guys, we’ve gotta win this thing. I’m going to do my thing, but we need you guys”—I turn away from Miles and Grant, who will be playing—“to wreak whatever chaos you can. Be loud, be obnoxious, be annoying.”

“June’s specialty,” Grant says under his breath, and his sister reaches out and punches her brother.

---