Page 67 of Revive Me

I sigh. “So, what was the plan, enter me into a competition against my will and revive my love for history?”

Her lip twitches, relief shining in her eyes. “Something like that, yeah.”

I take the pen and paper that our waitress offers us. “The only reason I’m doing this is because I’m incapable of walking away from a sure-fire victory.” Scribbling a few words on the paper, I add, “And when I win those movie tickets, I’m going to make you watch whatever paranormal horror movie is playing in theaters.”

She shudders at the idea. But then she realizes what I was writing and angles her head to look closer.

“The Agony of De Feet?” She gives me an exasperated look. “Really?”

I lean back in my chair, feeling entirely too pleased with myself. “Take it or leave it.”

Huffing a laugh, she slides her drink closer to her and finally takes a sip. “If you end up losing, that’s going to be a really embarrassing choice.”

It only takes her five questions to realize…that’s not going to happen.

“How on earth do you know the answer tothat?” she asks, gaping at me as I’m, yet again, writing on our paper as soon as the host finishes reading the question.

“Probably remember it from some documentary,” I say with a shrug.

She shakes her head as if to clear the haze. “Okay, I can understand knowing World War Two facts, but what documentary could you have possibly been watching to know that the construction of the Great Wall of China began in the 7thcentury?”

“Probably a documentary on the Great Wall of China.”

For a moment, she only blinks at me. Then she sighs. “You’re annoyingly smart, aren’t you?”

I wink. “One of my good qualities.”

“Which two city-states fought in the Peloponnesian War?” comes the next question. I scribble downAthens and Sparta, feeling Lily’s gaze on me as I do it.

“So, why don’t you want to go back to school again?” she finally asks. “Clearly, you’ve got the brain for it. It probably wouldn’t even be very hard for you.”

I tense slightly at the question, despite having a feeling this was coming.

My shrug is stiff. “I just don’t see what it would accomplish.”

She hums thoughtfully, and I suck down half my drink to busy myself.

“Who was the president during the Cuban Missile Crisis?”

I scribble downJohn F. Kennedy.

“I heard you spent a lot of time teaching classes, even when you were fighting,” she says it nonchalantly, swirling the straw around her drink.

I, on the other hand, am immediately suspicious. “Youheardthat? Where?”

She waves me off. “Okay, fine, I readit. But is it true?”

I consider the risk of answering, but eventually nod.

“Interesting,” she muses. I open my mouth to ask herwhatis so interesting, but I don’t get a chance to get any words out.

“You know, when I was training to become a scuba diving instructor, I had to go through an Instructor Development Course,” she says, staring out at nothing as she speaks. “I thought for sure it was going to be a bunch of practice exams, so I studied like crazy during the weeks leading up to it. And then I walk in on day one and realize: we’re not doing anything with academics. It’s all about teaching. They spent two whole weeks teaching ushowto teach. Nothing to do with diving. Somehow, it had never occurred to me, that was a skill in itself. Arguably the most important skill. One that not everyone mastered, because some people flunked the exam.”

She gives me a pointed look, but all I can manage is a bewildered, “You’re a scuba diving instructor?”

Groaning, she drops her head in her hands. “That’sall you got out of that?”

“Uh, yeah, pretty much. That’s one of the coolest things I’ve ever heard.”

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