The Theory of Second Best (Cake #2)

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The Theory of Second Best (Cake #2) Page 15

by J. Bengtsson


  “You’re right. What do you suggest?”

  “I don’t know, maybe the Fucked Four.”

  I laughed. That little tagline, as accurate as it was, was most definitely not going to make it on TV.

  “I think we need something a little less in-your-face.”

  “You think?” he grinned. “I mean, it’s got to have some meaning, you know.”

  “I agree. We are an odd grouping and deserve a grand title.”

  “What’s another word for four?”

  “I don’t know if there is another word,” I said, as my mind searched my brain. “Oh wait, quadruplet… ooh, we could be called The Quad Squad.”

  “No, that sounds too middle school girl chic.”

  I nodded my agreement.

  “I got it,” Kyle burst out, excitement playing out over his face. “The Dork Quad!”

  I laughed loudly. It was the perfect name for our perfectly imperfect group.

  TV Confessional

  “Yeah, I’m really only into yoga for the pants.”

  —Kenzie

  19

  Kyle: Nerd Speak

  Dale and I had been relentlessly searching for the idol since the first day of play. It wasn’t as easy as pinpointing a location and going to check. In fact, we were spending way more time warding off tails than looking for the damn thing. Just yesterday, we’d almost made it to the tree Dale had deemed a possible hotspot when Bobby peeked out from behind a rock. My eyes flicked toward Dale and he nodded as we continued on our way, never getting the chance to search.

  Spending time with Dale was surprisingly fun. He was my very first nerdy friend. We were complete opposites, yet somehow we meshed perfectly. I was just as big an anomaly in his world as he was in mine. He surrounded himself with intelligent, driven people. My lackluster approach to life was difficult for him to comprehend and he took to mentoring me. And when I say mentoring, I mean he felt the need to explain how every little thing in the world worked. I had to admit, sometimes, when he went on and on about smart people stuff, I’d just tune him out. But we did have a nice little give and take. The more time I spent with Dale, the smarter I felt; and the more time he spent with me, the funnier he got. Dale was brimming with geeky humor that was just begging for an audience.

  “So have you always wanted to come on this show?” I asked him as we wandered through the woods.

  “God, no. This is the last place I ever thought I’d be.”

  “But you’ve been analyzing the game for years. How could you not want to put your theories to the test?”

  “I’ve mastered World of Warcraft, too, but that doesn’t mean I want to visit Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms.”

  Dale said a lot of thing I just didn’t understand. Sometimes I gaped at him as the words left his mouth, trying to determine if the language he was speaking was even of this world. In the beginning, I’d ask him for clarification, but he would just follow his comment with more mumbo jumbo that I couldn’t comprehend, so I stopped trying to figure it out and just chalked it up to nerd speak.

  I realized early on in my interactions with Dale that he liked fantasy worlds… like, a lot. He was always talking about some warrior or planet or gryphon, whatever the hell that was. I’d never had the patience, or the attention span, to follow the complex story lines of fantasy-based video games. I didn’t need much to have fun in my gaming world. If you just gave me a ball to dribble or a pimp to shoot, I’d be a happy camper.

  “Okay, so why did you come on the show, then?” I asked, curiously.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m the most predictable guy you’d ever meet. I guess I just felt the need for a change.”

  “A midlife crisis,” I nodded, like I had him all figured out. “Next thing you know you’ll be driving a sports car and bagging a hot chick in a bikini.”

  “I said I needed a change, not a fantasy makeover.”

  “Gotta dream big, my man.” I offered up my twenty-something wisdom and slapped his shoulder in a manly gesture of friendship. Dale actually winced from the unexpected harshness of the contact. Jesus, he was such a nerd. I loved it.

  “I’m married with children, Kyle. I can’t afford to dream big.”

  “That sucks.”

  “No, that’s what life looks like when you’re a forty-something computer programmer who drives a minivan.”

  “Dale, no! My god. Not a minivan! Have you no self respect?”

  “No!” he laughed. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “I’m begging you, man, you need to buy that sports car as soon as you get home.”

  “I hardly think I have the swag to pull off a muscle car,” Dale laughed, which as always came out sounding like a hyena’s mating call. Every time he did it, he made me chuckle.

  “I have a new mission out here, Dale. I’m going to make you cool.”

  “Oh, yeah? I’d love to see you try.”

  “I admit, I have limited resources on the island, and I’m putting a lot of pressure on myself, but mark my words, by the time this show is over, I will make you the envy of every middle-aged couch potato in America.”

  “Ahh, the grandeur of youth.”

  “I don’t understand your prehistoric idioms, Dale, but sure, we can do that too if you want!”

  Dale and I came up to the pre-designated area and separated. The plan was to split up and hopefully throw off anyone trying to follow us. It was only maybe a minute after breaking off from Dale that I heard the crackling of branches. Damn. Another spy. We were never going to get the idol. Knowing I could no longer meet Dale without blowing our cover, I began walking in a big circle around the perimeter. If I was going to be followed, I might as well make it interesting.

  After about my fifth trip around I heard a groan. “Good god, Kyle, get somewhere already.”

  It was Kenzie.

  “Are you following me, twinkle toes?”

  “Well, I was trying to, but then you went all crop circle on me.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t the one who asked you to follow me. Oh, and by the way, you might want to consider being a bit daintier in your surveillance techniques. You were like a damn rhinoceros clomping through the forest.”

  “I was not that loud. Why are you and Dale sneaking off all the time?”

  “That’s on a need-to-know basis.”

  “Well, I need to know,” Kenzie whined. I half expected her to stomp her foot in protest. “It’s called the Dork Quad, Kyle, not the Dork Duo.”

  I chuckled at that. She had a point. Dale and I had already agreed that if we found the idol, it would be used in the first elimination ceremony for whoever of the four of us needed it.

  “I know what you’re doing,” she whispered. “And I can help.”

  “Fine. If you can keep up,” I said, and started running. I was tall, so my strides were long and sprightly. I expected to be leaps and bounds in front of Kenzie, but when I checked on her progress, she was right up there with me. Damn, she was speedy for someone with short little Corgi legs. After a couple of minutes, I came to a stop, exhausted. Kenzie stopped too, barely winded.

  “Dang, girl, you’ve got wheels,” I said, panting.

  “I jog five miles a day. You’re not losing me.”

  “I wasn’t trying to,” I said, pointing out Dale.

  “Oh,” she said, seeming surprised.

  I grinned. We walked up to Dale, and in answer to the question in his eyes I said, “Sorry, she scares me.”

  He scanned Kenzie cynically before raising his shoulders in defeat. “This is a top secret mission, Kenzie.”

  “I know. You can trust me. We’re on the same side, remember?”

  Dale leaned in, motioned for Kenzie and me to do the same, and started talking extra quietly. “Okay, so the conditions are sub-optimal and we don’t have the bandwidth for more than one search, but I really do believe we’re in the right quadrant, so let’s make quick work of it.”

  Kenzie looked more con
fused than I did. “What did he just say?” she whispered.

  “You’re asking me? I don’t speak nerd.”

  “That tree, over there,” Dale sighed, as if dealing with us idiots was a real chore.

  “Couldn’t you have just said that in the first place?”

  “I did.”

  I climbed the tree while Kenzie played lookout. Dale was guiding me.

  “See that indentation in the wood?”

  “Yeah.”

  “In there.”

  I put my hand in, and – damn, that dorky little dude called it! I pulled out the wrapped bundle and we all did a silent cheer as I climbed back down. I handed the idol to Dale, who promptly shoved the little lifesaver down the front of his pants.

  “Dale, I’m not sure if you have the swag to pull off a package of that size.”

  “Well, Kyle, I would have given it to you, but I didn’t think there would be any room with that sock you’ve got shoved in there.”

  My eyes widened in surprise, and I laughed at his somewhat awkward diss. I would have liked more confidence in his delivery, but it was an excellent start to his training. A feeling of intense pride bubbled up inside me, much like, I assumed, parents who watch their baby take his first wobbly steps out into the world. “Well played, sir.”

  Dale smiled back proudly. I reached out to give him a fist bump, but he totally misread the gesture and, instead, high-fived my closed hand. Kenzie giggled at the uncomfortable moment. Yeah, I still had a ways to go with this guy.

  The idol couldn’t have come at a better time, as Marsha was systematically alienating every member of the tribe. Although our group had been effectively segregated from Gene’s team, Marsha was not playing by the rules. She flitted around camp, interrupting strategy sessions, spying on other players, and talking to anyone who’d listen.

  “Did you know that the total weight of all the ants in the world is the same as the total weight of all humans?” Marsha informed Gene as he angrily picked the little critters out of his rice bowl.

  “I just don’t care, Marsha,” he replied through gritted teeth.

  “Should we rein her in?” Dale asked me.

  “Are you kidding? Look at Gene’s beety little face. This is better than a movie. I just wish I had some popcorn.”

  “Ooh, popcorn,” Kenzie said with wonder in her eyes. Her head was lying on my stomach as we lounged in the shelter. “Butter or no butter?”

  “Woman, are you really asking me that?” My voice rose in surprise. “Of course butter. And Milk Duds and, you know, what the hell, throw in an Icee, a hotdog, and some nachos while you’re at it.”

  “Why not?” Kenzie said, grinning. “It’s your food coma fantasy.”

  “That’s right. And then I’d follow it all down with a large meat lover’s pizza dripping in extra cheese.”

  Dale snorted. “Spoken like a guy in the prime of his life who has yet to experience high triglyceride levels, an expanding mid section, and a receding gum line.”

  “What the hell is a receding gum line?” I asked.

  “When the gums deteriorate and expose the upper areas of the teeth.”

  “Why would you want that?”

  “I don’t,” he threw his hands up, scoffing at my ignorance. “Nobody does, but when you get older, it happens, and then it makes the teeth sensitive to cold. For that reason I stay clear of anything frozen.”

  “Damn, Dale, it must suck being you.”

  He laughed. “Just you wait, young buck.”

  “Luckily I have a long wait. What are you, like, fifty-five? Sixty?” I teased.

  “Forty-two.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Dale,” Kenzie consoled, and then completely lost her train of thought and jumped right back into our food discussion. “You know what I really want right now? A big, juicy bacon cheeseburger and an ice cream sundae.”

  “Yeah, good call. Are you a cherry and nuts kind of girl?”

  Kenzie opened her eyes and studied me a second, no doubt trying to determine if I was making a sexual innuendo – which of course I was.

  “Both. No point in having a lonely cherry when there are willing nuts,” she answered mischievously.

  “I like your thinking.”

  She giggled.

  “I’m still here,” Dale said, pointing out that he was most definitely the third wheel in our little flirt session.

  “I’m not sure if you knew this,” Marsha was saying to Gene, “but women blink twice as often as men.”

  “Uh-huh,” he mumbled, clearly not listening to a word she was saying.

  “Do we really want to use our idol on Marsha?” I asked Dale.

  “If we don’t and she’s voted out, it will be three against five at the following vote. We have no choice.”

  “Right, but if we save her, she’s all ours.”

  “She already is,” Dale said shaking his head.

  Marooned Rule #4

  The losing tribe is to gather at an expulsion ceremony called The Council. They will discuss strategies with the host of the show and then vote off one member from their tribe. An immunity idol may be played to protect the bearer from elimination.

  A couple days later, the West tribe lost our first challenge, and we ended up at our first Council. Although the general assumption among the five people calling the shots on the West tribe was that Marsha was going home, the Dork Quad had other plans. After the votes were cast, Dale pulled the idol out of the front of his pants and handed it to Marsha. All five votes for her, which came from Gene’s crew, did not count, and our four votes for Gene were enough to send him packing.

  It was a great moment for the four of us, as we’d successfully sacked the quarterback. Our first target had been a matter of great debate. Would it be best to cut the head off the dragon (Gene), or just weaken him by gouging out his heart (Summer)? In the end we chose to go big, and I could almost hear the cheers going up on couches across America as the Dork Quad took on the power players and won.

  Dale got his second injury that day: a black eye after running into a pole during the blindfolded portion of the challenge. But it wasn’t just the eye and the toe. Dale was a walking disaster. Everywhere he went, injuries followed. An insect bite swelled to epic levels. A stinger on a palm bush caused temporary paralysis of his right calf. An ingrown toenail tore open and bled for days. Rashes, pink eye, split lip – you name it, Dale had it. Kenzie and I gleefully began chronicling all his injuries because, well, we had very little else to do all day long. And really, Dale was my favorite subject. Teasing him had become like my full time job. I loved the dude. He just rolled with everything. It soon became clear that I’d completely underestimated this carpool dad. Dale was cool enough just as he was.

  Things changed drastically after Gene exited the game. There was a shifting of power, and Carl, understanding he was on a sinking ship, was the first to switch allegiances. Seemingly overnight, Kenzie, Marsha, Dale, and I were in charge of the game, and we were sitting pretty. The nicer spot in the shelter became ours, and the others were now asking our opinion on everything. It would have been easy to get a big head and treat the others as Gene had treated us, but practical Dale was always there to keep us in check, reminding us that the game was always changing, and that any pompousness we displayed now would come back to bite us in the butts later. Of course, with Dale’s luck, he’d be the one with the sore ass.

  So instead of going over the top cocky, we appointed Dale as our new quarterback, which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the best fit. Yes, he had the smarts, but poor Dale had absolutely no athletic abilities, and it became clear almost immediately that he’d never thrown a football in his life. This was a man more comfortable programming computers than conversing with actual living, breathing human beings.

  Although I really couldn’t talk, as I’d been the one standing in the shadows, letting everyone else make the big decisions. During that very first discussion over whom to kick out of the game, Dale noticed me a
cceding to the others. He pulled me aside and encouraged me to speak up, saying if I didn’t voice my opinion that the others would view me as weak. It was an eye-opening moment for me. I hadn’t even realized I was holding back. Normally Jake did the thinking for the both of us. I just blindly followed along and was happy for it. I’d never thought to question the division of power, as it had been that way our whole lives.

  That’s not to say I did everything I was told. Sometimes I just liked opposing Jake to piss him off. But when it came down to the big decisions, I always deferred, never feeling smart enough or informed enough to insert my viewpoint. But out here there was no Jake, and I needed to step up and make my voice heard. And so, for the first time in my life, I was standing on my own and was actually surprised by how much I liked it.

  The next two weeks saw a thinning of the herd. Summer was the second casualty, although I had to admit I missed her yoga sessions on the beach. Aisha followed Summer out of the game. Kenzie led the charge on that one. Although I would have preferred wiping Bobby off the roster first, Kenzie was adamant that it be Aisha next and presented enough supporting facts to persuade the rest of us.

  Seeing Aisha leave made it all seem very real to me. We were knocking people out that were liked and respected in order to further our own games. It felt dirty, in a thrilling sort of way. Aisha was a genuinely good person and I liked her, but Kenzie had been right – we needed to win challenges in order to stay strong because in only a week’s time the East and the West tribes would merge into one. It was crucial to our survival to get rid of the least essential player in challenges, and that was clearly Aisha. She had been our weakest link from the beginning. Her long, thin flamingo legs, although I’m sure were awesome in high heels on a runway, were not exactly beneficial when it came to being stuck in three feet of mud. In the end, Aisha had been right: no one took Miss Nevada seriously.

  I clapped my encouragement as Kenzie twirled around, doing some ballerina move on the sand. Aside from a dance class when she was five, Kenzie told me she hadn’t worn a tutu since. And it showed. I knew nothing about ballet, and even I could tell she was awful. But that was the point. Kenzie didn’t care who saw. She was just having fun, not worrying about appearances. I liked that. After one particularly horrible pirouette, she lost her footing and fell to the ground.

 

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