Page 9 of Love at Full Tilt
Phoenix’s Landing, Fableland
Orlando, FL
Park: Phoenix’s Landing
Ride: Squirt’s Wicked Whirl
PUKE-O-METER:
—Fabler Fanatics’ Forum, the Puke-o-Meter Scale
“Ride the mythical creature that started it all.”
A smile pulls at my cheeks as I read the final clue for the day. A new horde of guests has pushed toward the display of Percivel Night ’s iconic battle, and Tess has to guide me through them by my elbow so I don’t get trampled, because I can’t tear my eyes from my phone.
My heart thuds with excitement and relief. I don’t need Mason to figure out this clue or find it.
According to Fableland legend, the carousel in Phoenix’s Landing sits on the exact spot where Sam Casterman got the idea for opening the parks.
Among all the beautiful horses on the ride, there’s one white-and-silver unicorn with Casterman’s signature on its belly.
Supposedly, it’s a perfect reproduction of the one he sketched on a napkin. His first concept for the park.
The mythical creature that started it all.
“I know where we need to go next,” I say.
“Let’s get out of here before we worry about that,” Tess mutters. She’s still pulling me by my arm like my feet don’t work.
My whole body is a fizzy, shaken-up bottle of soda. Knowing with certainty the answer to the third clue, and where to find it, means that I’ve almost finished the first day of the contest. And I’m still in it. Every step, every clue pushing me closer to a cash prize that can change my life.
Issy’s hand digs into the back of my shirt so she doesn’t lose me and Tess in the crowd. She keeps peeking over her shoulder like she’s afraid the police are going to nab us for line cutting at any second. Mason trails after her, and I can feel his gaze on me.
When we reach the door, another Red Shirt has taken the place of Mason’s friend.
They’ve got a deep tan from the Florida sun, and their rainbow-colored hair cascades over one shoulder; the other side is buzzed and speckled with yellow polka dots.
A sparkling Christmas tree earring hangs from their exposed ear even though it’s the middle of June, and immediately I wish this person were my friend.
Ais , their name tag reads. Even their name is awesome.
The blond guy, Carter, is waiting for us outside. As soon as we step into the sun, Tess points at him and Mason. “How is this legal?” she asks, twirling her finger in the air. “You’ve got a guy on the inside.”
“Carter hasn’t given me any answers,” Mason explains.
Carter smiles widely. He has a narrow, welcoming face, big hazel eyes, and one of those sideswept boy-band haircuts, the straw-colored strands lifting in the slight breeze.
“Just a shortcut to one. There’s nothing in the rules about that.
” He and Mason shift their eyes to me for confirmation.
Obviously, they assume I have the rules memorized or something.
I wish they weren’t right.
I shrug.
Tess isn’t done with her interrogation. “But you have a connection. And so much more access.”
Mason’s brow furrows. “How is that any different from the people who come here once, twice, three times a year? Or the ones who pay for VIP tours and all the add-ons?” He pauses to take a breath, then scrubs at the back of his neck with one hand.
“I’ve never worked here. I’m not related to anyone in the company. I’m not breaking any rules.”
“That sounds pretty reasonable to me,” Issy says. She hip-checks me gently, and I nudge her back, grateful. Tess has a tendency to try to blow up anything she doesn’t understand. And for whatever reason, those bombs are often aimed at me. But Issy is always on my side. Always ready to defuse them.
Tess frowns, but she drops it.
Mason takes advantage of the momentary silence to introduce us to Carter. “This is Lia”—he points to me, then to Tess and Issy—“and her friends.”
Tess jams her hands on her hips. “Oh my God, you don’t remember our names, do you?”
“Sure I do.” He turns to Carter, his mouth hinting at a smile. “That’s Jess and Bitzy.”
Tess growls, her small, round face scrunching, but she’s fighting back a laugh.
I smother my own grin. “Where to next, partner ?” I ask.
Mason lifts an eyebrow like he expects me to share the answer. There’s a playful glint in his watercolor eyes. Obviously, he’s figured out the clue, too.
I tip my chin up, my mouth pressed in a tight, unyielding line. No way am I going first. I get the sense he’s thinking the same.
Carter claps his hands. “While these two continue their staring contest, let’s Dog Shack it up. I’ve got an hour for lunch.”
Tess shakes her head. “It’s not even ten-thirty. We’re not scheduled to eat until”—she swipes open her itinerary on her phone—“one-forty-five.”
Carter brushes his sweep of bangs out of his eyes. “All the good combos will be sold out by then.”
“We’re not scheduled for hot dogs until Thursday anyway.”
Carter clearly gives out smiles like they’re as free as oxygen. He basically hasn’t stopped grinning since we met him. But at Tess’s remark, his already wide smile manages to grow larger. “Do you have your bathroom breaks scheduled, too?”
Tess’s hands snap into fists, and I can see a lecture on the benefits of preparedness brewing in her eyes.
“Hold on. We’ve got to get the final clue first,” I point out. Why does everyone but me seem to keep forgetting we’re in the middle of a scavenger hunt?
“You’ve got plenty of time.” Carter waves a dismissive hand.
“I’ve seen maybe eleven or twelve people this morning, including you all.
You could spend the entire afternoon eating hot dogs and fries and still be secure for day two.
” He fixes us with a pleading look. “Trust me. These hot dogs are a worthy side quest. Finnigan’s Dog Shack has the most unique options anywhere.
You have to try the Buffalo dog. Or the Grandma’s Kitchen Sink dog. Or the Cereal dog—”
“No one needs to try the Cereal dog,” Mason pipes up.
Carter frowns. “Dude. It’s an experience.”
“Froot Loops and powdered milk do not belong in a hot dogbun.”
Truer words have never been spoken.
But of course, Issy is swayed. Nothing piques her interest like wild food combinations.
“That settles it,” she says. “We have to go to this Dog Shack.” She grabs Tess’s arm and shakes it.
“It’s the perfect content for my channel, right?
My viewers have been begging for more weird food videos ever since we did the brownie experiment. ”
“The what?” Carter asks.
“Issy decided we should spend a Friday night seeing how savory you can make a brownie before it’s gross,” Tess tells him.
“Bacon worked great, and black bean actually wasn’t so bad.
Zucchini made the brownies moister without affecting the taste.
Potato chip was also a win. But then Is went off the rails, trying taco meat and chicken and soy-marinated shrimp, and well, I spent a lot of time staring at the inside of a toilet after that.
” She tips up her chin. “But I tasted every batch.”
Carter shakes his head. “There is no scenario on earth in which shrimp should be involved in dessert.”
“That was actually better than the taco meat, believe it or not,” Issy points out.
“Which blew my mind. I’d figured since mole sauce uses chocolate, the taco meat might be a winner.
” She chews on the inside of her cheek as we walk, clearly reworking the recipe in her head.
Issy never gives up on a dish—no matter how bad—until she’s perfected it.
That’s how we ended up eating hamburgers with peanut sauce for a month sophomoreyear.
My stomach practically groans at the memory.
Though we never actively agreed to it, we’re all ambling in the direction of the Dog Shack.
I sigh. I would have liked to get to the carousel before lunch, even if Carter says we’ll be fine, but Finnigan’s is on the other side of the park, sandwiched between Squirt’s Wicked Whirl and Dudley’s Tailspin.
Finnigan is a dachshund in the Dudley movies who owns a restaurant.
Thankfully, he doesn’t serve hot dogs. That would feel mildly cannibalistic.
Mason’s eyes search my face. “Carter knows how bad I need to win this thing. He wouldn’t take us on a field trip if he wasn’t sure we had time.”
“Don’t you want to finish as soon as possible, though?” I glance away from him and watch the crowd. I can’t help but scan each person we pass for a contestant pin.
“A few days from now? Sure. But today it doesn’t matter if we’re one or ninety-one. There’s no extra prize for being the fastest.”
I shrug. The information packet we were given did encourage everyone to enjoy the parks and document their time on social media.
The daily eliminations are the only indication that timing is important.
But every second I’m not working toward winning feels like the cash prize is slipping further out of my fingers.
My elbow bumps Mason’s, and we both jump away, mumbling apologies. The brush of his skin sizzles hot on my arm, and I rub at it to chase the sensation away.
It normally takes me weeks, even months, of hanging out with someone to feel this tuned in to them. It must be this resort. Being at Fableland is like leaving the normal world behind. It changes all the rules.
“Did you really eat brownies with shrimp in them?” Mason asks me. His expression is almost painfully impassive, like he doesn’t want me to think he’s judging me if I did.
“Good God, no.” The intensity of his gaze makes my skin flush. “Tess literally turned green.”
Mason shudders.