Partner Games
Page 12

He laughed.
I shot Georgie a worried look. Was I being too nerdy for this conversation?
“So you like ammonites because they have the gender balance set up the way you like it?” Swift teased.
My cheeks heated. “That’s not it. Not all of it, of course. They’re fascinating subjects—“
“Quit teasing my sister,” Georgie said, reaching over and patting my hand. “She doesn’t realize you’re joking.”
Swift just grinned at me, and I felt my cheeks get even hotter. “You must be pretty smart, Tiny.”
“She’s got a PhD,” Georgie said proudly.
I groaned. Was she going to point out to everyone I had a degree? I tried to change the subject instead. “So where did you guys go to college?”
Plate stared at me. Swift found his napkin interesting, all of a sudden.
“Oh,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s no big,” Swift said. “I’m a mechanic.” He nodded at Plate. “So’s he. We both work for his dad.”
I shot a help me look at Georgie.
“So what does your dad do, Swift?”
Swift stared down at the table and got real quiet. “He’s a lawyer.”
An uncomfortable silence fell again.
“You girls wanna hear how we got our road names?” Plate said, breaking the awkwardness.
“Shit, man,” Swift said, then groaned. “Don’t.”
Plate just grinned.
“Well, now we have to know,” Georgie said with a smile.
“Swift here got his name—“ Plate began.
“Don’t,” Swift warned.
His buddy ignored him. “—because when he gave it up to a girl for the first time, he blew his wad too fast. One pump chump.” Plate snickered and raised his hand for a high five.
Swift just rubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck you, man.” The words don’t sound grumpy, though. They sounded tired and amused. As if Swift’s made this argument a million times before and lost each time.
A horrified giggle escaped my throat. “Really?”
Swift gave me a sheepish look. “Really. Sometimes shit just sticks. The name, that is.”
Plate waved his hand, still hanging in the air, then shrugged and put it down.
“What about you,” Georgie asked him with a nod in his direction. “Why Plate?”
The big man just grinned and picked up another chip. “Cuz I’m the best at lickin’ things and I didn’t want to be called Pussy.”
Swift snorted. Georgie’s eyes went wide and she looked at me. “I…is that a joke?”
“Nope,” Swift drawled.
Plate just wiggled his eyebrows at Georgie. “I just lie back and think of you, baby.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or horrified.”
“Be both,” I said. “Definitely be both.”
Plate was good at breaking the tension, at least. By the time the meal was served, we were all chatting up a storm. Conversation ranged from Georgie’s travels to Plate’s biker stories, to strategizing about the next leg of the race and who’d actually win the thing. An old song came on the radio and I started to hum along as I picked through my delicious papa rellena.
Swift looked at me in surprise. “You’re a Guns and Roses fan?”
I nodded. “I like 90’s rock.” I didn’t tell him that I started to get into it because of a guy I had a crush on. The crush faded but my love of hair bands stuck.
“Fine, then. Use Your Illusion – one or two?” he asked me.
“One,” I said without hesitation. “Definitely one.”
“Are you kidding me?”
I gave him a look. “November Rain is the greatest song of all time.”
“Civil War? Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door? Yesterdays? You Could Be Mine? Hello?”
“November Rain,” I emphasized again. “Don’t Cry, the original version. Live and Let Die.”
“What about the Spaghetti Incident?” He fired back at me.
I raised my fork in the air and shook my head. “The first rule of GNR fandom is you don’t talk about the Spaghetti Incident.”
“Oh my God, you just quoted Fight Club at me.” Swift stared at me, a grin spreading over his face.
“Don’t look now, Georgie,” Plate said in a mock-whisper. “I think Swift’s nerdboner is about to knock our drinks off the table.”
I blushed. I also might have preened a little at Swift’s appreciation. He knew good music. That was a bonus point.
Dinner went on for a few hours, since we didn’t have anywhere particular to be. We started yawning, and decided to head back to camp. While we didn’t cement anything specific with the guys, strategy-wise, we made friends. That was something, at least.
We parted and went back to our tents, because we were all too cheap to rent a hotel room this early in the game. As Georgie and I snuggled down into our Race-logo sleeping bags, I looked over at my twin in the darkness. There was a smile on her face, her eyes closed. She looked like she was having the greatest time in the world.
I wondered if I should have asked her about her meltdown earlier. But Georgie seemed fine now. If anything, she’d laughed and flirted with Plate while Swift and I shared shy, awkward conversations. At least, my conversation was shy and awkward. Swift seemed comfortable, just a quiet sort compared to Plate’s boisterousness.
“Hey, Georgie?” I whispered into the darkness, tugging my sleeping bag higher.
“Hmm?” She sounded sleepy.
“About today…”
“I know,” she said immediately. “I screwed up. I just got flustered when everyone started running in. The cameras were everywhere, and I felt like I was letting you down. I freaked a bit. I’m sorry.”
It sounded legit, and yet…I frowned to myself. It wasn’t like Georgie to lose her cool over something like that. “No big deal,” I said. “If something were bothering you, you’d tell me, right? Sisters tell each other everything.” And that went double for twins.
“Of course I would.”
I nodded. “Okay then.”
“So….” She said. “Since we’re on the subject of telling the truth, what do you think of Swift, Clemmy?”
I felt my cheeks get warm, even in the dark. Damn it, I needed to stop blushing all the time. “He’s cute.”
“You guys were like two nerds in heaven,” my sister teased in a low voice. “You should let him know you’re interested. I have a feeling he’d be interested back.”
“Yeah, but…” I let the word hang in the air, then continued. “Guys don’t look at me.”
“Why not? They look at me. We have the same face.”
It wasn’t just the face, though. It was the whole package: the personality, the confidence, the way she walked compared to me. Everyone noticed Georgie, and no one noticed me.
Up until Swift, of course. I hugged the blanket tighter around my breasts, and then winced and pulled a sock out of my cleavage. The sight of it depressed me. “You think he liked my fake boobs?”
“Probably not,” Georgie said lightly. “They looked lumpy all through dinner.”