Page 35 of The Amazing Date

One of the kids falls in beside the blonde lady, his voice heard over the claps. “Who are you?”

The lady sneaks a peek ahead, lowers her chin down toward the kid, and in the gravelliest voice I’ve ever heard, says, “Carol Channing.”

When the kid scrunches his shoulders, she laughs. “Yeah, go ask your grandmother.”

I press my hands into my hips in shock. Roberto is standing on the bench, clapping and whistling at them. Ronnie spots him and tips an appreciative imaginary cap in his direction. They march to the It Takes Two poster, too far from us to be heard. Sound isn’t required—Thelma leaps in the air as Juanita hands her the next clue. Ronnie waves to us as the pair disappears inside the Starbucks restaurant.

“Third place,” Roberto whispers, stealing a peek at my runner’s watch. “Two minutes and we can race back before Trey and Brooke arrive. We’re still in decent shape.”

I stretch my legs out in front of me in a wide V and prepare to run. I use it as a distraction so I don’t snap at Roberto. That could’ve been us moving forward if he had only taken thirty seconds and listened.

Two long minutes later, Juanita walks over, gives Roberto a warm smile, and waves her arms. “You can return to the Underground. Good luck.”

I pull Roberto by his elbow before he begins a thirty-minute conversation with his future wife. My feet move as quickly as possible, not only wanting to get back to the race but also to make it impossible for Roberto to talk to me right now.

In the short time we were gone, a line has formed at the entrance. Due to the cramped quarters underground, they space out the attendees. We already have tickets, so I lead Roberto around the line. I spot Trey and Brooke in line to purchase tickets, and I bite my lower lip. Our lead is almost gone.

We approach the turnstiles, and I hand the usher my ticket. He looks it over and raises his palm. “This is not the all-day ticket.”

I turn to Roberto, not sure what the usher is asking. “No, that one was twenty dollars more. We were just in there. It’s okay.”

The usher raises his hand again and points to a sign on the wall. “I’m sorry,” he says. A large white sign with black block letters frames the entrance. All Exits are Final. “If you had purchased the all-day ticket, you could come and go as many times as you wish.”

Roberto takes a threatening step toward the usher, the frustration of the day on his face. I hook my arm inside his elbow and pull him away. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of. All exits are final except when you buy our ridiculously overpriced all-day ticket, in which case exits aren’t a thing.” He’s mumbling like a five-year-old, trying to figure out algebra. It’s pointless.

He’s right, but it’s a battle he won’t win. “We don’t have time for this,” I say and nod back toward the line.

“This is ridiculous,” he shouts before taking a step back with me. “I saw the all-day ticket, but I know we have to watch our funds.”

I nod. “I get it. Let’s just go buy another ticket and get through this challenge.”

His shoulders slump, and I know he’s beating himself up over this. But we are partners—we celebrate victories together, and I won’t let him wallow in defeat alone. “No worries. Remember how poorly Trey and Brooke read maps? It’ll take them an hour to find the Starbucks.”

He avoids my gaze, “Sorry about the tickets. I’m just a total screwup today.”

I bounce my shoulder into his with a playful jab. “I’ll wear my flannel pajamas and avocado face cream tonight so you can actually get some rest.”

An appreciative snicker escapes his lips. “Yeah, that’ll help. Next we’ll have to work on erasing the image of you dancing to Sir Mix-a-Lot from my mind.”

Our laughter hides the fact that we are now in last place again. Every step forward is followed with a step back. I’m going to follow Roberto’s advice and the example set by the old heads. I’m going to try to stay present and enjoy the moment.

We fall in at the back of the line, two dozen people in front of us. I begin to hum as we slowly make progress. Roberto’s hands rest on my shoulders, and he begins to twist them in time with the tune I’m humming. I bop my head, and he joins in, the whisper just for my ears, “I like big butts, and I cannot lie.”

We giggle like kids on a field trip. We’ve been knocked down again, but there is still plenty of sunlight in this day and plenty of fight left in us.

Chapter 22

Roberto

I won’t ever tell, but Rylee’s list works. Already knowing Sir Mix-a-Lot and Bill Gates were on the list, we only had to scoop them up again and locate one other character, the one that smells like teen spirit.

We exit the Underground with our trio of characters at the same time as Trey and Brooke, and I tug Rylee by her elbow. “We have to go,” she barks.

I wrap my arms around her shoulder. “Hold up.” We’ve been traveling all morning and racing through dark, dirty tunnels, yet I still smell the sweet flowery scent of her soap. “The directionally challenged are right there. Let them make a wrong move, and then we can race to the Starbucks with a lead.”

Rylee twists and follows my gaze. Trey approaches a group of kids in the square and asks for directions to Starbucks. The four kids each point in a different direction. This is Seattle, the home of Starbucks; there is one on every corner. I suppress my laugh. “Now all we need is for math to do its thing,” she whispers.

“Math?” I ask.

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