A scavenger hunt (2)

CHAPTER 34: A SCAVENGER HUNT (2)

RACHEL'S POV

The first clue hits my phone, and I glance down at it with a sigh. It reads: Find the oldest thing on the property and look within its roots.

I glance up at Noah, who’s standing a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His usual cold expression is back, and I can’t decide if it’s frustration or boredom. Either way, it makes me a little nervous. I can’t afford to screw this up.

   "Well," I begin, trying to keep my tone light, "looks like we’re looking for something old and rooted. Any guesses?"

Noah doesn’t answer right away, his gaze focused on the sprawling garden that stretches ahead of us. Then he shifts his attention to the large oak tree in the center of the lawn, its twisted branches reaching high into the sky.

    "That," he says simply, pointing to the tree.

I stare at the tree for a moment, unsure. “The tree?”

He nods once, his tone indifferent. “Oldest thing I see.”

I frown, but I don’t argue. I might as well give it a shot. “Alright, then. Let’s check it out.”

We walk towards the tree, and I find myself taking longer steps to match his pace, though it’s not easy. The silence between us feels like an actual wall now, and I’m not sure how to break it.

Reaching the base of the tree, I begin to look around the roots, crouching down to inspect them more closely. There’s a small, hollowed-out part of the trunk just at the base, barely noticeable. I run my fingers over it and feel something cool tucked inside.

When I pull it out, it's an old, weathered map, so faded it looks almost like a relic. The faded ink barely shows any detail, but I can make out some landmarks.

   “We found it,” I say, holding up the map for Noah to see. “How did you even...Good call.”

His lips twitch just slightly—more than a scoff, but less than a smile. "I know."

I roll my eyes but feel a flicker of something that is maybe his dry wit or the faint pride in his voice, but there's a part of me that can't help but respect how well he thinks on his feet.

We move on to the next clue, and the dynamic between us remains the same—awkward but strangely efficient. Everyone seems to be busy with finding their clues, so much attention isn't placed on us bo,th, which is great. Each clue we find seems to spark a brief moment of cooperation, but there's always that tension hanging between us, like we're both careful not to step too far into each other's space.

When we reach a dusty old bookshelf hidden away in a hallway of the venue, I’m the one who suggests we try searching there. But Noah, still acting as if this whole thing is a chore, barely acknowledges my idea until he steps forward to reach for the top shelf.

I can’t help but notice how tall he is and how effortlessly he moves. It is strangely calming about the way he handles things, even if he’s constantly distant.

  “I didn’t think I’d end up doing this with you,” I say, breaking the silence as Noah pulls down an old, yellowed book from the shelf.

  “What did you expect?” he mutters, flipping through the pages of the book without much interest.

   “Well, not a scavenger hunt of course,” I reply, trying to make light of it. “Maybe a lecture about the history of the place.”

Noah's eyes flicker up at me, his gaze a little softer for just a moment. “I’m not the lecture type.”

I snort at that, feeling the unexpected warmth spread through me. “Clearly.”

He shrugs, his expression unreadable again. “This is better than lectures.”

I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but I take it in stride.

We move to the next clue, and this time it’s me who gets the chance to solve it. We’re led to a dark hallway at the back of the building where an antique mirror is the center of attention. After a moment of inspecting the dusty surface, I spot the hidden engraving on the frame: a symbol that matches the one on the clue we received earlier.

   “It’s here,” I say, a small rush of triumph bubbling up inside me as I point it out to Noah.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just inspects the engraving himself before nodding slowly. “Nice job.”

The praise, simple as it is, catches me off guard. I don’t know why I’m so surprised. Maybe because it’s the first time he’s actually acknowledged my input without brushing it aside.

  “You’re not as bad as I thought,” I tease, just to keep the mood light. “I thought for sure you’d be the type to take control and steamroll me.”

Noah glances at me, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, but there’s no malice in his gaze. “Don’t get too comfortable. This is just a game.”

 “Right,” I reply, smirking. “A game.”

We continue moving through the venue, working our way through the clues, our unspoken competition building. I am actually surprised that places like this exist, but I am also aware of their efforts to make things look like this. 

The further we go, the more I start to realize that Noah might be starting to warm up to me, just a little. He’s not as cold as he was earlier. Even if he still keeps his distance.

When we reach the final clue, it’s a difficult one—requiring us to combine our knowledge of the venue’s history and the scattered clues we've collected. I stand there, tapping the map against my leg, trying to make sense of it.

 

   “We’re almost there,” I mutter, feeling the pressure rise a little. “I can’t believe we’re actually this close.”

Noah stands beside me, his eyes flicking over the map as if it’s just another puzzle to solve.

I clear my throat and look back at the map. “So... got any ideas?”

He studies the map in silence, then points to a small detail that I’d missed. “I think we’re supposed to go back to the oak tree. There’s something we missed.”

I blink at him, surprised at how quickly he figured it out. “Back to the tree?”

He nods. “The last piece of the puzzle was hidden in plain sight.”

“Guess we’ll see.”

We walk back to the oak tree, and I can't help but feel a slight sense of satisfaction. Maybe we’re not such a terrible team after all.

As we approach the base of the tree once again, I wonder if any final clues might be there like he said.

Noah walks beside me, his pace slower now, more deliberate. As much as he hides it, I can tell he's invested in this, too. Maybe it's the thrill of the chase. Maybe it's just that weird, unspoken understanding between us. Whatever it is, it makes the air crackle with something more than just a competition.

   “So, you think we’re going to win?” I ask, glancing over at him.

    “Not if you keep talking about it,” Noah replies, that familiar sarcasm in his voice. But there’s an underlying softness there.

   “Come on,” I say, nudging him. “We’ve got this. The final clue has to be here like you said, right?”

Noah doesn’t respond right away, but the way he looks at the tree as we approach tells me he’s thinking the same thing.

We reach the tree, and I immediately start scanning the ground. Nothing. My heart starts to race faster as I crouch down, my fingers brushing through the grass, looking for the smallest sign, the smallest hint. The anticipation is unbearable.

Then, there—beneath a fallen leaf, just out of sight—there it is. A small, crumpled paper, almost hidden completely by the grass.

I pull it out and unfold it breathlessly. The handwriting is familiar, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. The final riddle is clear. We’ve got this.

  “We found it,” I say, looking up at Noah, my voice louder than I meant. He’s already bending down beside me, his hand reaching for the paper.

I hand it to him without hesitation, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in my chest. This is it.

Noah reads through it quickly, his expression unreadable. I try not to let the impatience show on my face. “What does it say? Do we have everything?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He scans the paper again, and I catch the tiniest hint of frustration flicker across his face.

  “Something’s off,” he mutters, more to himself than to me.

   “What? What do you mean?”

Before he can respond, an announcement is made to grab our attention,

   "Attention hunters! The time is up. Kindly make your way back."

    "Guess we didn’t make it in time," Noah says, his voice calm, almost detached.

I stand there for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest. All the excitement, all the rush, gone in an instant. How could we have been so close, only to lose it at the last second?

I want to protest, but what’s the point? The game’s over. The victory is already claimed.

For a brief moment, everything feels unfair. We did all the work, followed every clue, and now it’s someone else’s win. It’s hard to swallow.

   "Maybe you shouldn't have treated it like a date then." my mind scolds me, and I sigh.

Noah looks at me, catching my frustration. "It’s just a game," he says again, softer this time.

I try to brush off the bitter feeling that settles in my chest, but it’s hard. I want to scream, to throw my hands up in frustration, but instead, I force a smile, a tight-lipped attempt to mask the disappointment.

  “Yeah. I guess it is,” I mutter, my voice quieter than I intended.

He doesn't respond immediately. For a moment, I think he might say something to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns away, starting to walk toward the others who are already heading off.

I follow him, unwilling to let the frustration take over. It’s just a game. But it feels like more than that, somehow. Every part of me wants to blame the others for submitting first, for stealing our win. But deep down, I know it’s my fault for hesitating and for treating it as if we are on a date indeed. We were close, but it wasn’t enough.

Noah’s footsteps echo ahead of me, and I match his pace.

 “Maybe next time,” he says, his voice still neutral, but there’s something in the way he says it—something almost… comforting.

I nod, forcing the smile to return to my face. “Maybe.”

But the feeling of loss still lingers, hanging in the air between us as we walk back to join the others.

Anywayyyyyy

There are still five days left. I can win, and hopefully, as much as I want to spend some time with Noah, I won't get paired with him again.