Free The Best Night of Your (Pathetic) Life by Tara Altebrando Page B

think it’s justifiable,” I said. “No.”
    I wanted to scream,
Just break up with her, you idiot!
I said, “Cheaters are cowards.”
    “Yeah,” he said, nodding quickly. “That’s what I figured you’d say.” Then he walked off and I met Patrick and the others at the registers and I worked to hide my confusion. What on earth was Carson thinking? That we’d have an
affair
? It was ludicrous.
    Dez counted points while the cashier rang up our items, including thirty Silly Bandz and a pack of M&M’s we grabbed by the register. “One forty,” he said. “Which brings us to eight forty-two.”
    “Awesome,” I said, ticking things off on our list. “Crap! Balloons for balloon animals.”
    “There’s no way we’re going to find time to sit and learn how to do that,” Patrick said.
    “Let’s just go,” Winter said.
    Another text from the Yeti said: BTW, RUMOR HAS IT ONE TEAM JUST HIT 750. WILL YOU BE FIRST TO QUALIFY? REMEMBER, POINTS ABOVE 1250 STILL COUNT IN THE END!
    “Lake in the sky,”
Dez muttered as we headed for the car.
“Lake in the sky.”
    “What about ‘Challenge the Yeti to a game of hangman’?” I said, with my own list in hand, noting that Carson’s car was gone. “What does that mean? And why is it only one point?”
    Winter said, “Maybe it means we’re supposed to challenge the Yeti to a game of hangman.”
    “But how?” I said, and rolled my eyes.
    “Text him,” Patrick said.
    So I did: WANT TO PLAY HANGMAN?
    “Lake in the sky,” Dez said again.
    I asked Patrick: “Jungle Golf? Or Winter’s house?”
    “Either,” he said.
    “Another house is lame,” Dez said, the last word in a high-pitched, two-syllable singsong, then he took out his phone and typed something into it as Patrick started the engine with me riding shotgun again.
    Patrick said, “Jungle Golf’ll be a quick stop. I mean, we won’t actually golf, right?”
    “Right,” I said, and got this text from the Yeti:_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
    I said, “Looks like we’re playing hangman with the Yeti.” Which made our total 843.
    “Awesome,” Patrick said.
    “Hold up,” Dez said, from the backseat.
    Patrick was about to turn in the direction of the jungle animal photo op.
    “
Mohonk
means lake in the sky.”
    “We’re supposed to go all the way to
Mohonk Mountain House
?” Winter said.
    I knew what she meant, but the truth was Mohonk wasn’t that far, it just felt that way because it was so unbelievably expensive that neither of our families could ever afford to gothere. The only person we knew who’d ever been there overnight—not just to visit the grounds or to apply for a catering job, like me—was Carson, whose family had reunions there every summer.
    “Hold on.” I set my phone aside after texting the letter
E
to the Yeti and looked at the list.
    Things started to click.
    “I think there’s a
bunch
of Mohonk stuff here,” I said. “There’s gazebos and a maze made of shrubs and a dock there.”
    “The lady will a
maze
you,” Dez said. “There’s probably a clue hidden in the maze.”
    “Should we do it?” Patrick asked.
    NOPE, the Yeti said.
    I sent in the letter
A
and got this back:
    _ _ _ _ _ _ _ A
    The highway entrance was right there. I sent in the letter
O
.
    I asked, “How many points are we talking?”
    Dez did some quick figuring and said, “Probably only a hundred or so, depending on how many gazebos there are. Plus the clue.”
    _ O _ _ _ _ _ A
    “I think we should do it,” I said, shooting in the letters
S
and
T
, with no luck, then
L
.
    Patrick said, “It’s probably going to take us an hour and fifteen total to get there, do the stuff, and get back.” The drive was probably twenty minutes each way. It was already—I looked at the clock on my phone—ten to three.
    How the hell had that happened?
    We’d be back by four, four thirty.
    My phone lit up: _ O _ _ _ L L A
    Gorilla!
I thought, and I sent in
G
to be sure.
    “I think it might be worth it,” I said,