The Perfect Escape (The Perfect Escape #1) - Suzanne Park Page 0,22
moved it to the closet with my other kiddie awards. I quit swimming the day we tried the high-dive board. Thankfully, she put the medal back on the bookcase, next to my Eagle Scout award.
She bit her bottom lip and glanced up. “Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I forgot that I got the Gold Award in Girl Scouts. For first aid, starting fires, and setting up camp. I’m good with a compass and stainless-steel cooking utensils too. And I’m excellent at up-selling boxes of cookies.” She took a dramatic bow. “I earned patches, not trophies, though. Maybe I’ll wear them all to intimidate our competition.”
My snort laughter cleared the juice from my nose.
I pointed at her ratty zombie wig peeking out of her tote bag. “Well, if you wear that too, everyone will steer clear of us, even the zombies.”
She punched my arm, then jumped. “Argh, shouldn’t have done that. Don’t put me in a choke hold and snap my neck! Save your energy for the competition.”
Stepping back and taking in all of the trophies in their entirety, she asked, “Why do you do all of this?”
“For glory!” I thumped my chest with my fist.
“Har har. No really, why do you do so many activities? You have a job too, and your afternoons and weekends must be packed with lessons, meets, and tournaments. Is it fun? Don’t you feel overbooked all the time?”
Krav Maga. Archery. Cross-country. All of these activities were for college applications, but they turned out to be the perfect training for zombie survival. With this victory under my belt, it would add credibility when I jump-started my dream career as CEO of a doomsday survival company, and maybe, just maybe, I could catch the eye of the investors of Zeneration to help me fund the production of my how-to guides and survivalist kits. A guy could dream, right?
All I needed now was a win. And probably an elevator pitch for my business, just in case.
“Well, I’m investing in my future because I want to get into a good college. To do that I need to stand out. And I want scholarship awards. Also, I want to build up my résumé, and having activities would make me seem interesting to the application committees. Ultimately, though, this all leads to my one simple goal in life.”
Kate said, “Happiness!”
Simultaneously, I said, “Make a shitload of money.” Didn’t everyone want that?
Kate shrugged. “Wow, okay. You’re the most ambitious person I know. And that says a lot—my dad is pretty intense. He’s always working.” She gave a palpable sigh of disappointment. “Just do me a favor.” She looked me straight in the eyes and put her hand on my wrist. My wrist! “Please make sure you don’t forget to enjoy your life, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” I was enjoying life, even now, wasn’t I? Being here with Kate was enjoyment. Talking about my future was enjoyment. Money talk? Enjoyment. See? A confetti cannon of enjoyment. BOOM!
She smiled. “According to my therapist, it’s important to focus on things you want to do in life. Joy will follow.”
“Okay. Sure.” Total BS if you asked me.
Judging on her dimples alone, Kate was satisfied with my answer. She squeezed my wrist, pumping tingles down to my fingertips. Then sadly, she let go.
“Promise?” she asked.
I nodded, wishing she would grab my wrist again.
Something next to my desk caught her eye. “What’s this?” she asked, pulling out a yellow sports Walkman from an old milk crate. “Where’d you get this stuff?” She’d discovered my box of old tech junk my dad gave me, the gadgets from when he was younger. She held up a dusty Nintendo Game Boy, Sony Discman, first-gen iPod, and a Microsoft Zune. My plan was to one day sell them all on eBay for thousands of dollars.
“You probably don’t even know what half of that does,” I said with a smirk.
She raised an eyebrow. “This plays Mario. These play music.” A wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. “This Zune thing, though, no clue. I’d need to google that.”
I burst out laughing. “I’m impressed. You’re nerdier than