Nico

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Alaric repeated, his voice flat with disbelief. "What are we, twelve?"

I shrugged.

"Goodness," he rubbed his forehead. "For goodness’ sake, Park, we are stranded in a Maldivian monsoon, about to enter this ridiculous rain, and you want to play a children’s game to decide who holds the umbrella?"

"Unless you have a deck of cards or a racing simulator in your pocket, De Villier, it’s the only fair option. If you are not going to do it, then let me hold the umbrella," I snapped, my fingers still locked around the handle.

Alaric shook his head. "Hell no!" he yelled. "There is no way I am letting you hold the umbrella."

"You two can hold it in the rain and—" the driver tried to suggest, but we turned to face him and yelled at him at the same time.

"Shut up!"

The driver let out a groan but said nothing else and just watched us.

Alaric let out a sharp, frustrated breath, released his grip on the umbrella, and balled his hand into a fist. "Fine. Best of three."

"No, just one round. Winner takes all," I countered.

Alaric nodded in agreement.

The driver watched us with a look of pure exhaustion as we held our hands out in the cramped space of the Thar.

"Rock... paper... scissors!" I shouted.

I threw rock. Alaric threw scissors.

A surge of triumph, more intoxicating than when I win a race, rushed through me. I yanked the umbrella out of his hand and gave him a sharp, toothy grin. "That was easy," I boasted. "Try to catch up so the rain won’t beat your ass," I told him.

Alaric cursed under his breath as he shoved the door open and stepped out into the knee-deep mud and the blinding curtain of rain, his expensive silk shirt turning translucent within seconds.

I followed him, popping the umbrella open. It was small, barely enough to cover one person properly, let alone two athletes with broad shoulders. I held it high, pouring all my strength into it because the wind had nearly wrenched it from my hand.

The driver didn’t stay to argue because the second our feet hit the ground, he reversed the jeep, the taillights disappearing into the grey curtain of rain like two fading embers, leaving us utterly stranded in the mouth of the abyss.

I cursed under my breath as I watched him leave, then turned back to Alaric, who was in front of me.

"Get under here before you catch pneumonia and blame me for your shitty lap this season," I yelled over the roar of the storm.

Alaric didn’t want to. I could see the struggle in his shoulders, the way he wanted to march off into the rain alone just to spite me. But a massive crack of thunder shook the ground, and the rain intensified into a literal wall of water.

"Fine!" he yelled back as he stepped toward me until our shoulders were jammed together under the tiny canopy of the umbrella. "This is only because the rain is getting heavier," he said.

"Uh huh," I responded.

We started walking, and we hadn’t even taken two steps before Alaric started complaining. "You are holding it far too to the left," he grumbled, his arm brushing mine, sending that familiar, unwanted jolt of electricity through my skin.

"I won the game, I set the position," I shot back, though I shifted the handle slightly to cover him more.

We continued walking and turned on our phone lights to help us through the absolute abyss of the jungle path, and because it wasn’t silent, I decided to try to get words out of Alaric yet again.

"Nice choice of footwear for a hike, Alaric," I mocked as he stumbled over a slick root. "Did you think we would be walking a red carpet when we arrived here?"

Alaric scoffed. "At least my shoes didn’t cost more than my cars, Park," he snapped back, his hand reaching out instinctively to grab my upper arm to steady himself. His touch against me was burning hot despite the cold rain. "And for the record, do you have any idea where we are going?"

"The driver said high path! This is high!"

"This is a cliff, you idiot!"

My eyes widened when I realized what he had said. We were standing at the edge of a fork in the trail, the mud sliding beneath our boots. "Maybe we should go right?"

"Hell no!" Alaric refused. "There is no way I am taking directions from someone like you."

I scoffed and turned to face him. "This is because you were walking like an old man, De Villier," I mocked his style of walking. He had one of his hands on his hip while he walked.

"Oh, fuck you, Park. It’s because of the rain. I do not walk like that."

I rolled my eyes and then pointed to the right direction. "We go this way."

"No," Alaric shot back. "We go left."

"Based on what, De Villier? Your champion’s intuition?" I adjusted the hood of my soaked sweatshirt. "The driver pointed right, and that’s where we are heading." I started moving, but Alaric didn’t, and he pulled me back, making me slam into his chest. "What the hell is your problem?!"

Alaric raised his hands angrily and pointed at me. "The question should be what the hell is wrong with you, because we are in this situation because of you! We are like this because you wouldn’t listen to me no matter what I say!"

"Listen to what you say? Who the hell do you think you are?" I demanded, bumping my shoulder into his.

He grabbed me by the collar of my hoodie. "Don’t test me, Nico Park!"

I scoffed, ready to drop the umbrella, and grabbed him back. "Or what, Alaric De Villier?"

Alaric frowned at me, and then he let go. "Since you are refusing to do what I want, then let us settle this as we should."

I gave him a questioning look, confusion etched on my forehead. "And what is that?" I asked, but he didn’t answer.

I tried to think of what he meant, and then when I realized it, my eyes widened in shock.

"No way, De Villier!"