Partner Games
Page 2
“You guys are twins?” He seemed skeptical.
We got that a lot. “Fraternal,” I chimed in. “Identical twins are split from the same egg. Fraternal are just two different babies that share the same womb at the same time. We’re fraternal. Sororal, if you want to get technical.”
He stared blankly at me. Okay, yeah, maybe I’d just shut my dweeby mouth and let my sister talk. I looked at Georgie helplessly.
“You don’t like our name?” She said, reaching over and giving my arm a squeeze. “Got a suggestion for a better one?”
“I think casting suggested ‘Beauty and the Geek’. No one’s going to look at you and think you’re twins.”
Georgie made a face. “Let’s stick with Wonder Twins.”
“Suit yourself. We can’t make the other teams call you that.” He glanced down at a cue card. “What’s your profession? Both of you?”
Georgie’s hands went to her breastbone. “I do modeling. I’ve been in a little bit of everything, from Sports Illustrated to Victoria’s Secret to the cover of Fashionelle.” She looked over at me.
And here was where the geek came in. “I’m a paleontologist. Actually, an invertebrate paleontologist. There are different kinds of paleontologists but I specialize in the Devonian era. My main focus is ammonites and the related ammonoidea.”
“She has a PhD,” Georgie said proudly. “She’s the smarts of our team.”
“And what is your partner’s biggest strength?” The guy asked. “Let’s start with Beauty’s answer.”
Georgie’s smile faltered at his words, but she recovered quickly. “Well, Clementine’s definitely the brains. She’s great with puzzles and she’s very detail-oriented. She’ll keep us on track and if there’s something that needs to be figured out, I have no doubts that she can do it.”
“And Geek? What’s your partner’s biggest strength?”
I ignored Georgie’s scowl. I’d been called worse than ‘geek’ before, though it seemed lazy for him to call us that, considering that our first names were sprawled across our chests. “Georgie’s a really good people person. It’s something that I lack skill in – being friendly and open with people. She’s not afraid of anything: not crowds, heights, snakes, bugs. Nothing scares her. And she’s traveled all over the world with her job, where I haven’t really left the states before. I’ve been all over the Midwest on intern trips, but I’ve never officially left the States before today.”
“Okay ladies, what’s your partner’s biggest weakness? Beauty?”
Her jaw set a little and she looked like she was going to comment, but I gave a small shake of my head and a pleading look. I just wanted to be done with the interview so we could get on with the game. Georgie sucked in a deep breath and then answered. “I think Clementine’s a little shy. She could stand to let her hair down and live a little.”
I stiffened, waiting for Georgie’s inevitable teasing about how I was a shy virgin at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. The last thing I wanted was for my sexual status (or lack thereof) to be recorded on national TV.
But she said nothing, and turned to me. Oh, thank God.
“And Beauty’s biggest weakness? What’s that?”
She’s secretive, I thought, but didn’t say that out loud. Something was going on with Georgie, my sweet, beautiful, easygoing twin, and I didn’t know what it was. She’d nearly lost her temper twice this morning, and that wasn’t like her. But I didn’t want to confront her on camera, not when we were supposed to be a team.
So I reached over and grabbed one of Georgie’s skinny arms. “Look at this,” I said, holding it up. “She’s skinny as a rail. There’s no muscle strength behind these twigs. If there’s rock hauling or anything that requires physical strength, we’re both screwed.”
Georgie laughed wildly. “I’m a model. I’m supposed to be skinny, you dingdong.”
“I wish you’d eat a dingdong,” I exclaimed, warming up at my twin’s laughter. “Something other than tofu and lettuce! We need to bulk up if we’re going to compete with these great big guys.”
“We’ll just have to outwit them and then stun them with our beauty.”
“Yeah, I’ll tackle the outwit part. You can handle the other.”
The cameraman chuckled. “All right, ladies. Thank you. I think I’ve got what we need. Your production assistant will be along shortly to show you to the next area.”
Sure enough, we were collected by another frazzled man wearing a headset and a The World Races baseball cap. He gestured for us to follow him, and then led us to a tiny red-and-white striped tent, just large enough for the two of us. “Put on your backpacks and please remain quiet until you’re called out to the field. Once you are, step to the starting line that’s designated for your team. When everyone’s lined up, the host will arrive. Understand?”
We nodded in unison, and he left, exiting out of the front of the tent flap. It slapped closed with a rustle.
Immediately, Georgie moved forward and began to peek out the tent.
“We’re not supposed to do that,” I whispered.
“They won’t be able to tell,” my twin said. “Don’t worry. I just want to see who we’re racing against.”
Her backpack was blocking my ability to squeeze in next to her so I shifted on my feet and waited patiently. “You see anything?”
“Someone’s coming out of a yellow tent at the far end of the field,” she told me. “Or whatever this place is.”
“It’s not a field,” I told her. We’d been blindfolded before coming in to the staging area, but I’d guessed that this was a circus of some kind, and our tiny tent was pitched under a much, much larger one. “I think we’re in a big top tent.”
“I hope there’s no clowns. I hate clowns.”
“Just tell me who you see! Who’s in the yellow tent?”
“I will, goober! Just calm down.” She peered out of the slit and shifted a little, her backpack jostling me even further backward. “Looks like a pair of ladies. Middle aged. They’re moms or something.” She squinted. “Kristi and….looks like Mary. I bet we can beat them in a foot race. They’ve got a bit of jiggle on them.”
I rolled my eyes. To my waifish sister, one hundred and twenty pounds was someone with a bit of ‘jiggle’.
“Oh, the next team is coming out,” she said. “Ho, Jesus, and they’re scary looking.”
“They are? What?” I pushed at her backpack, trying to force my way in.
“I’m guessing their team color is black. They look like biker dudes. One is Swift, and the other is Plate. Those aren’t names!” She laughed. “That is so weird. They’re carrying leather jackets and they’re both wearing black bandannas on their heads. Definitely bikers.”
“Weird,” I said, since Georgie probably wanted a reply. I gave up on trying to squeeze in next to her and just mentally filed the information away. Black team was two bikers. I was picturing a pair of big, bearded, scary dudes. Probably with equally big, scary guts. And spikes. Somewhere, they were probably wearing spikes.
We got that a lot. “Fraternal,” I chimed in. “Identical twins are split from the same egg. Fraternal are just two different babies that share the same womb at the same time. We’re fraternal. Sororal, if you want to get technical.”
He stared blankly at me. Okay, yeah, maybe I’d just shut my dweeby mouth and let my sister talk. I looked at Georgie helplessly.
“You don’t like our name?” She said, reaching over and giving my arm a squeeze. “Got a suggestion for a better one?”
“I think casting suggested ‘Beauty and the Geek’. No one’s going to look at you and think you’re twins.”
Georgie made a face. “Let’s stick with Wonder Twins.”
“Suit yourself. We can’t make the other teams call you that.” He glanced down at a cue card. “What’s your profession? Both of you?”
Georgie’s hands went to her breastbone. “I do modeling. I’ve been in a little bit of everything, from Sports Illustrated to Victoria’s Secret to the cover of Fashionelle.” She looked over at me.
And here was where the geek came in. “I’m a paleontologist. Actually, an invertebrate paleontologist. There are different kinds of paleontologists but I specialize in the Devonian era. My main focus is ammonites and the related ammonoidea.”
“She has a PhD,” Georgie said proudly. “She’s the smarts of our team.”
“And what is your partner’s biggest strength?” The guy asked. “Let’s start with Beauty’s answer.”
Georgie’s smile faltered at his words, but she recovered quickly. “Well, Clementine’s definitely the brains. She’s great with puzzles and she’s very detail-oriented. She’ll keep us on track and if there’s something that needs to be figured out, I have no doubts that she can do it.”
“And Geek? What’s your partner’s biggest strength?”
I ignored Georgie’s scowl. I’d been called worse than ‘geek’ before, though it seemed lazy for him to call us that, considering that our first names were sprawled across our chests. “Georgie’s a really good people person. It’s something that I lack skill in – being friendly and open with people. She’s not afraid of anything: not crowds, heights, snakes, bugs. Nothing scares her. And she’s traveled all over the world with her job, where I haven’t really left the states before. I’ve been all over the Midwest on intern trips, but I’ve never officially left the States before today.”
“Okay ladies, what’s your partner’s biggest weakness? Beauty?”
Her jaw set a little and she looked like she was going to comment, but I gave a small shake of my head and a pleading look. I just wanted to be done with the interview so we could get on with the game. Georgie sucked in a deep breath and then answered. “I think Clementine’s a little shy. She could stand to let her hair down and live a little.”
I stiffened, waiting for Georgie’s inevitable teasing about how I was a shy virgin at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. The last thing I wanted was for my sexual status (or lack thereof) to be recorded on national TV.
But she said nothing, and turned to me. Oh, thank God.
“And Beauty’s biggest weakness? What’s that?”
She’s secretive, I thought, but didn’t say that out loud. Something was going on with Georgie, my sweet, beautiful, easygoing twin, and I didn’t know what it was. She’d nearly lost her temper twice this morning, and that wasn’t like her. But I didn’t want to confront her on camera, not when we were supposed to be a team.
So I reached over and grabbed one of Georgie’s skinny arms. “Look at this,” I said, holding it up. “She’s skinny as a rail. There’s no muscle strength behind these twigs. If there’s rock hauling or anything that requires physical strength, we’re both screwed.”
Georgie laughed wildly. “I’m a model. I’m supposed to be skinny, you dingdong.”
“I wish you’d eat a dingdong,” I exclaimed, warming up at my twin’s laughter. “Something other than tofu and lettuce! We need to bulk up if we’re going to compete with these great big guys.”
“We’ll just have to outwit them and then stun them with our beauty.”
“Yeah, I’ll tackle the outwit part. You can handle the other.”
The cameraman chuckled. “All right, ladies. Thank you. I think I’ve got what we need. Your production assistant will be along shortly to show you to the next area.”
Sure enough, we were collected by another frazzled man wearing a headset and a The World Races baseball cap. He gestured for us to follow him, and then led us to a tiny red-and-white striped tent, just large enough for the two of us. “Put on your backpacks and please remain quiet until you’re called out to the field. Once you are, step to the starting line that’s designated for your team. When everyone’s lined up, the host will arrive. Understand?”
We nodded in unison, and he left, exiting out of the front of the tent flap. It slapped closed with a rustle.
Immediately, Georgie moved forward and began to peek out the tent.
“We’re not supposed to do that,” I whispered.
“They won’t be able to tell,” my twin said. “Don’t worry. I just want to see who we’re racing against.”
Her backpack was blocking my ability to squeeze in next to her so I shifted on my feet and waited patiently. “You see anything?”
“Someone’s coming out of a yellow tent at the far end of the field,” she told me. “Or whatever this place is.”
“It’s not a field,” I told her. We’d been blindfolded before coming in to the staging area, but I’d guessed that this was a circus of some kind, and our tiny tent was pitched under a much, much larger one. “I think we’re in a big top tent.”
“I hope there’s no clowns. I hate clowns.”
“Just tell me who you see! Who’s in the yellow tent?”
“I will, goober! Just calm down.” She peered out of the slit and shifted a little, her backpack jostling me even further backward. “Looks like a pair of ladies. Middle aged. They’re moms or something.” She squinted. “Kristi and….looks like Mary. I bet we can beat them in a foot race. They’ve got a bit of jiggle on them.”
I rolled my eyes. To my waifish sister, one hundred and twenty pounds was someone with a bit of ‘jiggle’.
“Oh, the next team is coming out,” she said. “Ho, Jesus, and they’re scary looking.”
“They are? What?” I pushed at her backpack, trying to force my way in.
“I’m guessing their team color is black. They look like biker dudes. One is Swift, and the other is Plate. Those aren’t names!” She laughed. “That is so weird. They’re carrying leather jackets and they’re both wearing black bandannas on their heads. Definitely bikers.”
“Weird,” I said, since Georgie probably wanted a reply. I gave up on trying to squeeze in next to her and just mentally filed the information away. Black team was two bikers. I was picturing a pair of big, bearded, scary dudes. Probably with equally big, scary guts. And spikes. Somewhere, they were probably wearing spikes.
