Meet Your Match

6

We learned that a few of the dates had ended badly due to disagreements and debates spiraling out of control.

"Crystal and Mitch agreed on everything, though," Jennifer whispered. "She sure is happy with him—well, except for last night."

The backyard was having a rare afternoon in the shade, so the sunglasses were on standby in my pocket.

"Has her bullseye on his ass," Shannon said.

It was also possible that Crystal just wanted to win, and felt that appearing perfectly matched would help more than the usual drama.

"Oh, good, I was starving!" Wyatt had arrived patting his nonexistent belly.

Eight tables for eight individuals. Eight hot dog pyramids (fluffy buns included), bottles of water, mustard and ketchup...

Something as wacky as an eating competition made sense. So much could go wrong...

Hanna and I shared a glance. We'd both worn tees with shorts, both pulled our hair up. Scanning her, I couldn't detect any makeup; I wore none myself.

Unlike my match, though, I wasn't as adept at looking presentable no matter what I did or how I dressed.

The couples had to decide: one would volunteer, leaving the other to cheer them on. Whoever finished fastest would win. If no one was able to finish, the player who ate the most hot dogs would win.

As the obvious choice between the two of us, I tried not to look too reluctant. Anthony's grilled hamburgers were my favorites and I couldn't even finish one unless I stayed hungry all day...but I had to be realistic. Hanna, while taller, was more slender. I couldn't ask her to tackle this in my place. Plus, "Tee-hee, I'm more of an occasional sausage girl!" would make the viewers riot.

All the men volunteered; I took a deep breath and resigned myself to the unpleasantness ahead.

But Hanna had already stepped forward.

She was almost to her table when I managed to catch up to her. "Wait, Hanna. You're...lighter than me. Isn't this riskier for you? It would be rude and selfish of me not to volunteer instead—"

She shrugged— "I'd rather you seem rude and selfish than me." —and tapped my hanging jaw. "Kidding. Relax. It'll be fine."

As she took her position, the stares and mutters I got ranged from incredulous to accusatory. I worked hard not to put up my middle fingers.

Amira alone nodded as if this was what she had expected.

"Everybody ready?" Mitch yelled.

"Ready," they replied, some more enthusiastically than others.

A few of the men cracked their knuckles, poised to pounce.

I gaped at Wyatt gulping down the soda he'd brought.

Hanna was stone-faced.

Then Crystal blew an air horn, and it began.

Mitch wrapped his arms around his pyramid in a lover's embrace and jammed several hot dogs into his mouth at once.

"I've definitely seen a man do that before," Megan said, and cackles followed.

Felix took random bites from different veggie dogs, confusing us.

Hanna ate steadily, using a fork and eating the hot dogs first—leaving the buns for later. She had a method that she stuck to: start from one end of the hot dog, go to the other end, and finish what was left on the fork. With a sip of water here and there.