And what if it was all a game?
I jolted up, eyes narrowed. “She wouldn’t.”
And then I thought about it, like really thought about it, and realized she most definitely would.
“Damn it.” I got to my feet and made myself a promise not to fall for her pretty smile, lean legs, and well, there I go again.
I finally made it to the end of the hall when Olivia gave me a shy wave and pointed to the boxes on the table. “Dinner’s here.”
“Good, I’m starving.” I reached for the box.
That was my first mistake.
Opening it was the next.
And the third mistake, well that goes back to when I was six and accidentally had a run-in with a rattlesnake and peed my pants.
“S-snake.” I pointed to the snake’s head in the box along with all the white meat and hit the ground.
Hard.
Chapter Ten
Olivia
“Mark!” I kicked his legs. Okay, should I have been more sensitive?
Yes.
Did I care?
Not really.
I mean, he was just lying there like the snake bit his ass, and he had no choice but to fall over and die.
And frankly, I thought he was kidding.
Until he didn’t move.
And then I was worried he might have stopped breathing.
Not sure what part of our job included eating snake meat, but the instructions said it was healthy for us to try new things—whatever that meant. So I was like, cool cool, we’ll eat some snake meat, not die (fingers crossed), then attempt to get a good night’s sleep after Mark builds the bed.
But Mark was clearly MIA lying in a heap on the floor, not building the bed or being a team player.
“Marrrrk.” I drew it out then gently kicked him again.
“Son of a bitch!” he roared, coming to life like I’d given him a hit of adrenaline directly down the middle of his chest Pulp Fiction style. “I’m aliiiiiive.”
I staggered back. “Are you drunk?”
“Is this hell?” He looked over at the box of snakes and scrambled away like Smeagol on Lord of the Rings; I half expected him to start muttering my precious. “Why is this real?”
“Life?” I guessed.
“No, the fucking snake and the meat— oh shit, is the room spinning?”
“Uh, no. Maybe…” I grabbed his arm before he passed out again. “…you should just sit for a bit?”
“But protein.” He shuddered. “And the bed. I’m a guy. I have to build… oh hell!” He started gagging as his gaze landed on the box with our dinner. “If you don’t move the snake box, I’m gonna hurl all over your shoes, and I actually like them, so maybe we take care of that first…” He risked a closer look, and his face went pasty pale. “Oh fuck, is that another head?”
Because I also liked my shoes, I kicked the box away immediately. “Why don’t we order pizza?”
More gagging.
“Do you like need…a minute?” I patted him on the back.
“Childhood trauma.” He looked away. “Yeah, pizza. Now snake, the snake has to go, far, far away, can we burn the snake? Oh shit, it’s staring right at me; it senses my fear!”
“It’s dead.”
“Its soul lives!” He scrambled to his feet and ran his fingers through his hair. “Why is this internship the worst thing ever?”
“Well…” I dumped the snake box in the trash. “If you’re asking, it’s all this elaborate test. I mean otherwise, it wouldn’t make sense, you know?”
“Nothing, and I do mean nothing, about Max makes sense.” Mark went to the sink and gargled some water, then spit it out like he’d actually eaten said snake and nearly gone into anaphylactic shock from the experience. “You ordered pizza, right?”
“DoorDash.” I held up my phone. “Figured pepperoni was better than snake. Hey, you gonna be able to make that bed for us?”
He glared, his skin still pale. “I’m a guy, I can totally—” Tons of stumbling and the windmilling of arms.
“Did you, um, just trip on your shoelaces?”
“No. Yes. I’m a man!” he shouted. “Where the hell are the tools?”
I studied him critically. I wanted to legit win the position, not kill my opponent. “Should you be using a hammer, though?”
“AHGHHHHHHHH!” he screamed.
“Fine, fine!” I held up my hands. “Closet, go to the closet, geez.”
He stomped off.
And I watched as he grabbed a toolset from the utlility closet and went into the bedroom. Seconds later, I heard pounding. Then cursing.
Then, the most terrifying of all.
Silence.
Our pizza arrived twenty minutes later, and because I felt guilty for not helping, I finally grabbed him a slice and made my way into the bedroom, expecting to find Mark somehow built into the headboard staring off into space like, where did it go wrong? Was it during the snake episode? The cursing? The tools? And if I could do it over, would I have used that hammer or just asked for help?
Huh.
“H-hey there, big guy,” I said, walking into the dark room.