Well, mostly, I think as my mind drifts back to the almost kiss. Which is then immediately followed by Adam’s warning. I hear it ringing in my head as I turn on the shower and realize that I don’t think that’s going away anytime soon.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
THE NEXT MORNING, WE REPORT TO THE FRONT of the building, where the bus is waiting to take us to the docks at Battery Park where there is a private ferry to take us across New York Harbor. Adam’s departure still hangs over us, and the casual banter and joking around has been replaced by a stilted quiet. On the ferry, I listen to the tour guide explain the history of the Statue of Liberty and about the countless people who came through the port of entry while I lean against the rail and watch the seagulls as they glide and dive over the water, the backdrop of New York City glimmering behind them. The rest of the cast is scattered around the boat, half-listening to the lecture, half-staring out over the water.
“A gift from the people of France to the United States to symbolize the strong friendship between the two nations,” the guide says into her microphone.
I sigh and wonder why the tour guide insists on using the loudspeaker even though we’re the only people on the entire boat.
Hakulani stands and slips away from the group to stand next to me. He takes a deep breath before saying, “I miss the water.”
I glance over at him, but he is looking into the distance beyond the looming seafoam green statue that rises ahead of us.
“How often did you get to the beach back home?” I ask.
“Every day,” he replies. “Morning surf, hanging with my friends. It wasn’t ‘going to the beach’ for us. It was just living life.”
“And school was just what you did to fill in the time?”
“That,” he says with a grin, “and cooking.”
“It must suck being so close to the water and not actually able to get in.”
“The water back home is a little cleaner, so it’s not that hard right now,” he laughs, his hands gripping the rail as he leans back. “But I guess there are many worse places I could be.” He nudges me. “Plus, I’ve met some pretty cool people.”
I try to hide the blush that starts creeping across my face. Of all the things that go with being a redhead, this is the one I hate the most.
“I know what you mean,” I say.
“About the cool people?”
I grin and look down at the water as it’s pushed aside by the boat. “About being by the ocean, or in my case, the Gulf. It’s not quite the same as you. It takes over an hour to get to my favorite beach, and most of the time I’m too busy working to go there, but when I can it’s like the crappy parts of my life disappear.”
“Yeah.” His voice is low and smooth. The back of his fingers brush against my elbow, and even in the sunlight I feel a small chill ripple down my spine. I catch myself and give myself a mental slap—I have got to get it together. I didn’t come here to get in some showmance with a guy who lives beyond the other side of the country.
Pushing myself away from the rail, I say, “At least we get to do the Landmark Challenges. It’s a chance to get out of the studio and see the city a little.”
“I guess,” he says with a nod. “But it comes with strings, doesn’t it?”
I turn around so my back is against the rail, the warm metal against my arms. “Most things come with strings,” I say quietly.
“You sound like you speak from experience,” he says quietly, shifting his weight until he is standing close enough that I can feel the warmth from his body.
“My parents met each other when they were pretty young. Mom got pregnant with me, and they thought they could raise a child and live life on love and prayers.”
“And?” he asks gently.
“Let’s just say I’m not a big believer in the whole ‘love conquers all’ stuff.” Then, refusing to reveal any more of the drama from my life back home, I slap my hands on my thighs to break the mood.
I expect him to say something but am pleasantly surprised when he doesn’t. We settle into a peaceful quiet and watch as the statue comes closer into view. Well, it would have been quiet, except the tour guide is going on and on about the renovation that took two years to complete back in the 1980s. As we approach the island, Production City comes into view.
“It looks like the circus has come to Liberty Island,” Hakulani says.
I nod. “I guess that makes us the animals?”
He chuckles. “Something like that.”
When the boat finally docks on the island, we join the others at the gangplank and prepare to set foot on the island. The tour guide gives us a bright, practiced smile. “You have about thirty minutes to look around the pedestal before we head up.”
“Head up where?” Dani asks from the opposite side of the gangplank.
“To the crown,” she says.
“The crown?” Paulie, who is walking next to me, says excitedly. “Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted to go all the way up, but the reservations fill up so fast.” He turns to me. “This is going to be so cool.”
His excitement is contagious and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face as I turn to Hakulani, ready to include him in our celebration, but he is ghost white.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He just shakes his head and stammers, “Nothing. Who’s ready for this?”
I touch his arm gently. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
“And tight spaces,” he says, sucking in a slow, deep breath. He raises a hand to his puka shell choker, running his finger over the smooth surface as he looks up at Lady Liberty.
My eyes go wide as I follow his gaze up and then look back at him. “That could be a problem,” I say quietly. “Does production know?”
He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “I don’t know. I don’t remember if I was ever asked about phobias during my interview.”
I nudge Paulie in the side, pulling him from his excited conversation with Lola, and nod toward Hakulani. He takes one look at him and shoots me a questioning look at the same moment the tour guide opens the gate and we head down the gangplank.
Jessica is waiting for us just outside the pedestal. “Hey, guys,” she says brightly. “Find your mark and we’ll get started.”
It only takes us a few moments to locate the silicone dots on the pavement. Once the cameras are in place, Jessica makes eye contact with all of us.
“Today we are visiting one of America’s most iconic symbols of freedom and hope. For immigrants coming to the nation by sea, the Statue of Liberty was a welcome sight after so many weeks on a ship.” She directs our attention to the monument. “Now it’s a time capsule for those who helped build this country.”
Malik scoffs so quietly that had I not been standing next to him, I wouldn’t have heard it. I catch him rolling his eyes before turning his attention back to Jessica as everyone applauds. I quickly join in, though I’m not sure why we’re clapping and cheering.
“Time for you to go exploring,” Jessica continues. “Remember, this isn’t just a sightseeing trip. Your experiences here will help shape your creations for the Landmark Challenge. Take it from me: this one is going to be tres difficile.”
“That was French, right?” Paulie asks as we head toward the first part of our tour. Hakulani trails behind us. I think about including him, but honestly, he looks like he probably needs some time alone.
“I think so,” I say, then teasing, “I know it’s not Spanish.”
“Do you think it’s a clue?”
I motion to everything around us. “We are standing in front of the biggest gift ever given to us by the people of France. I don’t think Jessica is winging it, do you?”
He shakes his head. “Maybe it’s a classic Julia Child deal where we are supposed to find new ways to create French dishes?”
“Too obvious,” I say. “They like to throw in twists to keep the show interesting.”
He opens the door to the museum for
me. “It’s all about the twists, isn’t it?”
“French fusion?” I suggest. He nods before putting a finger to his lips as if in careful thought.
Then Malik and Hakulani come up behind us—Malik walks over to a photographic display of the Statue of Liberty’s arrival in New York, and Hakulani asks, “What are you guys talking about?”
“The challenge, of course,” I say. “And how Lady Liberty fits into it.”
“Check this out,” Malik says, looking at the pictures on the wall. “Did you know that Lady Liberty came over on a ship and was packed in two hundred cases?”
I groan. “I swear, if we have to make two hundred of anything, I’ll turn in my jacket on the spot.”
“No, you won’t,” Malik says, calling my bluff.
Shaking my head, I say, “No. I won’t.”
Hakulani is still unusually quiet.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’ll be fine,” he says, but I watch him wringing his hands, and I’m not so sure.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” Paulie says, teasing him.
Hakulani shoots him a withering glare.
“Paulie!” I say, elbowing him.
“Ah, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Then he turns to me. “How was I supposed to know that was what you meant? I thought he was seasick or something.”
I sigh and rub a hand over my face, while Hakulani is staring at the spiral stairs that lead up the center of the statue, and beads of perspiration start to form on his forehead.
“Talk to Jessica,” I suggest. “Tell her you can’t do it.”
“No. I’ll be okay.” He smiles, now looking a little green under his tan skin. “What is it that they say about facing your fears?”
“I don’t know what they say, but I say I’m going ahead of you on the climb up,” Paulie says. “You know, that way if you puke, it won’t hit me.”
“Very funny,” Hakulani says, looking less than amused.
“Just remember not to look down,” I say, trying my best to encourage him.
“Thanks,” he says as Jessica begins to wave everyone over to the base of the stairs.
True to his word, Paulie goes first, leading us up to the lobby located in the pedestal. Displays of the statue’s history are everywhere.
“Hey,” I say to no one in particular as I look over some pictures of kids playing on the lawn outside of the pedestal. “Did you know that this place used to house military families back in the 1930s and even before then?”
“Seriously?” Lola says, coming over and reading over my shoulder. “That’s so cool. Some kids actually got to wake up, go outside, and look up to see Lady Liberty watching over them.”
We walk together for a few minutes, looking at the different bits of the display together, and I’m surprised Dani doesn’t swoop in to break us up.
“Huh,” Lola says, pointing to a close-up photograph of the statue’s head. “I thought they were just part of her crown, but those point spikes represent the seven seas and continents.”
“Really?” I say, moving in to read the marker. “I always thought they were rays from the sun.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jessica with a tour guide walking toward the stairs that will take us up to the crown. “Think we better go over?” I ask, nodding in their direction.
“Probably,” she agrees.
We’re actually the last ones to gather at the bottom of the steps. Lola splits off to stand next to Dani while I go to stand next to Inaaya and, looking over my shoulder, I see Hakulani hanging near the back of the group. I think about going over to say something, but then Paulie moves in next to him, and the two begin speaking quietly, occasionally glancing up at the staircase.
When we begin the climb to the crown, I’m pretty sure this is the quietest we’ve ever been. The metal rails are cool as we climb to the top, and I find myself wondering how many other people from all over the world have made this same trip. Paulie and Hakulani are bringing up the rear, and when the stairs turn in a direction that allows me a clear view behind and below me, I can see Hakulani taking slow, deep breaths, and Paulie is right behind him, encouraging him. When I look ahead, there is nothing but narrow spiral stairs.
Once we emerge into the crown, the view makes every step worth it. The sky is blue and clear as I stare through the window at Manhattan. From up here, away from the noise and the smells, the city looks a sprawling testament to human determination and spirit. When you think of everything the city has endured in its past, it’s kind of inspiring. Even Hakulani, who still is a little shaky and pale, gazes out at the view with awe—while standing as far from the window and the stairs as he can.
There’s not enough room in the crown for all of us at once, but somehow Jessica manages to crouch down and get a picture of everyone, even though Paulie and Hakulani are only able to poke their heads into the frame.
“Perfect,” Jessica says. “Now, take some time to enjoy the view, and then you all can head down when you’re ready. We’ve still got a competition to do.”
Right, I think as I soak up as much of the view and all the feelings it inspires in me as I can. I really need to win today. Then all the good will and inspiration that I felt during this walk through history only moments ago begin to crumble when I think about what could be at stake. I almost went home yesterday, and if I don’t win an advantage today, things could get very, very bad for me.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
ONCE EVERYONE HAS CLIMBED DOWN FROM THE crown, we gather in a circle near Production City.
“That was incredible,” Lola says. “I could see forever.”
Malik nods. “Couldn’t have picked a better day.”
Jessica arrives and motions for us to follow her to a clearing among the tents and equipment before turning to address us. Automatically, we begin to look for our marks and shuffle into our usual lineup.
“Don’t worry about that,” she says, laughing. “We’re not filming this, at least, not officially. Right now, boxed lunches are being served in craft services, so grab what you want. Then you’ll have about an hour and a half to explore the island, the museum, whatever you want. While you’re doing that, you might want to come up with a plan for your meal.”
A couple PAs appear and begin shoving two quarters into everyone’s hands.
“And if you get curious about what’s around the island, these will give you access to the coin-operated binoculars located around the path.”
“Are you going to give us a hint so we can plan?” Malik asks.
“French,” she says. “And an extra hint: your judges know a fair bit about this island, so I would make sure you don’t waste your chance to explore.”
“Are you going to tell us who?” Lola asks.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
I glance around, then mutter, “Hope they brought their appetites.” As much as I love making food, I love eating it more, but that is kind of a requirement for being a chef or a baker. I couldn’t imagine being a regular person trying to judge a contest where I could only take a couple bites before I had to decide if I like it or not—especially when my comments could mean the difference between someone doing well or possibly going home.
“I think they can handle it,” Jessica says with a smile as she checks her watch. I blush, not realizing that I’d said that loud enough for her to hear. “All right, the clock is running, so you all should get moving.”
As several of the cast head to craft services, I decide that I’d rather get a head start on exploring. Okay, and maybe give my stomach a moment to settle as well. Between the ferry ride, the adrenaline of being up in the crown, and the nervousness from the upcoming challenge, I’m feeling a little too jittery to eat. I glance back and see that even Hakulani, who looks a lot better now that his feet are on solid ground, is piling food on his plate. I just shrug to myself and start walking, enjoying the gentle breeze and the warm sunshine.
I wander ar
ound to the north side of the island and look across the river at Ellis Island. We’d passed by on our ride here, and I vaguely remember the guide mentioning that immigrants never actually went to the Statue of Liberty when they arrived but rather disembarked on Ellis Island.
I drop my two coins into a nearby stationary binoculars and press my eyes to the eyepieces. The black shades flip away and I swivel the viewfinder so it focuses on the island.
“You’re with the group that’s filming here, right?” a voice says behind me.
Startled, my head snaps over my shoulder. Standing behind me is a National Park Ranger. “You scared me.”
“Sorry about that,” he says. “Just wanted to know if you needed anything.”
I start to say no, then stop. “Actually, I was looking at Ellis Island and was wondering—” I look back into the viewfinder. “—What are those run-down buildings?”
He steps forward. “May I?”
I step away as he takes a quick look.
“That’s the hospital,” he says, stepping away from the binoculars.
“I’m surprised it’s so run-down. I thought Ellis Island was another tourist spot.”
The ranger nods. “It is, but historical renovations are expensive. There’s been a push to raise money, but so far, it hasn’t been enough.”
“I’m Peyton, by the way,” I say, extending my hand.
“Ranger Jacob,” he says, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake.
I expect him to ask questions about the competition or the contestants, but he doesn’t. Instead, he slips into tour guide mode and gives me a brief history of Ellis Island, and the millions of people who came here looking for a better life—listing off the countries that they were most likely to come from at the time.
“Sounds like a lot of European countries.”
“Yep. Most people who came here made it to the American shores—”
“Most?”
“Well, some were sent back to their countries, and those who were sick were sent there, to the hospital.”
“Why were they sent back?”
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