The Holdout

by Laurel Osterkamp

  “Never mind.” My terseness makes Ten recoil. “Just don’t tell anyone.”

  Ten’s shoulders droop and his eyes scurry away from me. For a brief, irrational moment I’m tempted to step in closer, touch my fingers to his unshaven cheek, and smile at him until he smiles back.

  But of course I don’t do that.

  I walk away, and he follows but remains a few steps behind. We don’t talk in the security line or on the elevator ride up, and it’s like yesterday’s friendship was just a figment of our imagination. Now we’re back to reality.

  §

  Once I’m in the jury box and the trial resumes I relax a little. So far nobody else has recognized me. Maybe nobody else on the jury watches the show. It doesn’t have the rating numbers that it had a few years ago.

  I massage the sides of my nose. These fake glasses are starting to pinch. With a quiet sigh I settle into my chair and my mind begins to drift. I know I should be paying attention to the testimony, but I can’t help but replay the final part of last night’s episode over in my head.

  §

  After the challenge, the first scene they showed was of us getting back to camp. Henry tended the fire, Bailey went off to relieve himself in the woods, and Klemi decided to bathe in the ocean. Meanwhile, I pulled Grant aside.

  “We’re voting out Klemi tonight.” I stared deep into his eyes, looking for some sort of flicker that would betray him, but saw nothing but the warm brown depths I had grown to trust.

  Grant squeezed my hand and I hated myself for heating at his touch. “What about Henry? Don’t you think we’ll look better for the jury if we stay loyal to our original tribe members?”

  I shook my head hard. “No. Henry found a hidden immunity idol. It has to be Klemi.”

  Grant raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Henry has immunity? Are you sure he’s not making it up?”

  “He showed me the idol.”

  “Wow.” Grant scratched his head and looked around in thought.

  I braced myself as I asked the next question. “Were you kissing Klemi earlier?”

  “What?” Grant was still holding my hand, and he tugged and squeezed as he returned my gaze. “Did Henry tell you that I was?”

  I nodded my head yes.

  Grant sighed. “No. Klemi and I were up on the rocks. She told me she wanted to talk strategy and I went along because I need her vote when she’s on the jury. But once we were up there she started in about how homesick she is. So I gave her a hug. When we broke apart I saw Henry on the beach below, staring up at us.”

  I bit my lip and peered into his face, looking for some sort of a tell. Aren’t people supposed to twitch when they’re lying?

  Grant released my hand. Then he tenderly tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I wanted to believe him like I wanted to believe in Santa Claus until I was twelve.

  “Robin. I promise. You and me—final two. And after the show is over, it will still be you and me. Okay?” He used his fingers to gently tilt up my chin, and his eyes implored me to affirm his promise.

  And then, instead of saying yes, I stepped in, grabbed his face and pressed my lips firmly against his. I kissed him hard, like I was Al Pacino giving Fredo the kiss of death in The Godfather. I broke away first but I kept his face in my hands.

  “I know it was you, Grant. You break my heart and you’re going to pay.”

  He laughed. So I laughed too. Maybe I’m too pathetic to really sound tough but I still don’t understand what was so funny.

  Then there was a testimonial from Grant. He was sitting in the same place on the rocks where he had been earlier that day with Klemi. Shirtless, his posture presented all his best angles for the cameras. His brown eyes shone, and his adorable mop of dark curls swayed gently in the breeze.

  “I always knew they’d find out eventually. But who knows? Maybe Robin’s dumb enough to believe what I tell her. Most people will believe anything, if they want it to be true. So when I tell Robin that she’s special to me, she won’t doubt it.” He suddenly turned thoughtful, and rubbed the back of his neck while he looked off in the distance. “Robin could easily win this game. So as soon as I can I’ll get her out, and when she’s on the jury, I’ll have her vote.” He turned back towards the camera. “Because I’ll be sitting next to Klemi. And no matter how much Robin might hate me, she’ll hate Klemi even more.”

  The scene switched again.

  Bailey was lying down under the fort, taking a rare rest in the middle of the day. Henry came in and sat down beside him.

  “Have you talked to Grant?” Henry asked.

  Bailey kept his arm over his eyes as he spoke. “He said to vote out Klemi.”

  “Of course he did.” Henry reclined himself down, so he was closer to Bailey. “But I bet he told Klemi to vote you out.”

  “So?” Bailey’s response was gruff. “Grant has to say that. It has to be either Klemi or me.”

  The camera zoomed in on Henry’s geeky face, on the straight-toothed smile that his parents no doubt paid thousands of dollars to correct. “But that’s the thing, Bailey. It doesn’t have to be you or Klemi. It could also be Grant.”

  Bailey’s chin trembled ever so slightly as he considered this.

  “You don’t know for sure what Grant is going to do,” Henry continued, “and you won’t, not until tonight. But if you and I vote for him, we’ll at least have a tie. Think about it. The person you’d be most likely to lose against is Grant. So why not just vote him out?”

  “Hmm.” That was Bailey’s only response. At that he turned over and pretended to fall asleep. Henry got up and walked down to the ocean, where he had a testimonial.

  “I did what I could,” he said to the camera. “I’m definitely voting for Grant. I have no idea what Robin and Bailey are going to do, but at least I know I’m safe for tonight.”

  Then they showed the five of us walking and carrying our torches to Island Assembly.

  It was dark when we got there, and as always, there was a fire burning in the pit at the center of the set. We all rested our torches against the wall and had a seat.

  Joe Pine was perched on his stool. Everything about him was shiny, from his gelled hair to the buckles on his safari shirt. “And now the members of our jury.” Joe said all their names as one by one, the six most recently voted out cast members walked in, each giving us a reproachful look as they entered. “Including Beth, who was voted out during the last Island Assembly.” She looked so clean and made-up, barely recognizable. But when she narrowed her eyes and scowled at me I could tell it was obviously still her, and that her makeover hadn’t changed her personality.

  We were all sitting around the large fire: the jury on their own separate bench off to the side, the five of us in the middle of the set, and Joe on a stool that faced us all.

  “Klemi,” Joe said. “I have to say, you look pretty relaxed. How confident are you that you’ll be staying tonight?”

  Klemi rolled her eyes and wiggled her shoulders back and forth seductively. “I’m pretty confident, Joe. Nobody here likes me. So I’m the perfect person to bring to the final three because supposedly I can’t win.” Then she leaned over, met Grant’s eye, and winked.

  Joe did a double take. “Grant. Did Klemi just wink at you?”

  Grant shrugged his shoulders. “She’s just joking around.”

  Henry shook his head and laughed. Joe noticed. “Henry, what’s that about?”

  Henry looked at Joe squarely across the fire. “Joe, I happen to know that Grant has been double dipping. In the last twenty-four hours I’ve caught him both with Robin and with Klemi.”

  The heat from the fire was making me flushed. But Henry’s words burned me.

  Grant, however, remained cool. The light bounced off his tan skin and he radiated calm. “You ‘caught’ me? Yes, I was walking with Robin. Yes, I was sitting with Klemi. How is that double dipping?”

  Henry answered simply. “It’s double dipping because you had your tongue in bo
th of their mouths.”

  Grant smiled in his endearing, crooked way. He batted his eyes. He cleared his throat. He looked down. “Um,” he said. “I have grown close to a couple of people here. I won’t deny that. But I don’t think of it as playing people. And I won’t deny that the hardest part of this game, for me at least, is separating my head from my heart.”

  I wanted to yell, What the hell does that mean? But I reminded myself that a million dollars is at stake. I kept my cool.

  Besides, Joe asked my question for me, albeit in a more polite way. He flashed his talk-show host grin and the firelight gleamed as it bounced off his teeth. “What does that mean, Grant?”

  Grant’s face was so defenseless I had to tell myself to question his sincerity. “It means,” he said, “that I have a job to do here and that job is to win. But it’s not always easy to do my job because my emotions get in the way.”

  Joe leaned forward, his elbow resting on his knee. “But you said you had grown close to a couple of cast members. Just how close are we talking about?”

  My breath caught in my throat as I waited for Grant’s response, but Klemi spoke before he could answer. She flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Joe, flirting is simply a part of the game. But that’s only true for the people who know how to flirt. If Henry doesn’t understand that, it’s because he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” She smiled smugly. “It’s the one thing he couldn’t learn to do at school.”

  Henry sniffed as the wind blew smoke into his face. “Okay,” he said through a cough. “So I’m not beautiful. Girls don’t like me much. This isn’t news. And I don’t see how it changes anything.”

  “Bailey,” Joe said. “What do you think? Have you been flirting to get ahead in this game?”

  “Of course not. I don’t need to. Can’t say the same thing about Klemi.”

  Klemi leaned over and addressed him. “Really? You think I don’t know how to do anything but flirt?”

  Bailey’s chest rose. “I know you don’t.”

  Klemi glared at Bailey with her claws out, ready to shred him like a scratching post. “Everybody thinks I am empty-headed because I’m pretty. I’m sick of it!”

  Henry answered her. “No, everybody thinks you’re empty-headed because the inside of your skull contains nothing but air.”

  Beth and other members of the jury laughed out loud, though they’d been instructed not to make noise. Klemi fumed and Joe shifted the focus.

  “Robin, you’ve been awfully quiet. What’s your opinion? Have you been flirting to get ahead, and if so, do you blame Grant for doing the same?”

  I looked at Grant and he looked back at me. He was trying to communicate something, as if we were sitting alone again on the beach and confining all our most intimate secrets. But the silence only floated between us, awkward and unpleasant.

  I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice as I answered Joe. It was deep and nasal, like I was a smoker with a sinus infection. “If I flirted, it wasn’t to get ahead. I tried to be honest with everyone, including myself.”

  Klemi rolled her eyes and let out a harsh laugh. Joe questioned her with his eyes.

  “How can she be so naïve?” Klemi demanded. “I would feel bad for her if she wasn’t so dumb.”

  I shot Klemi a look full of arrows. “What’s dumb about being honest?”

  “Hello!” Klemi’s accent made the simple word sound glamorous. “Anybody home? This is a game for a million dollars. Nobody wins by being honest.”

  “Well, I’m going to try. And I don’t see what’s wrong with making friends. That ought to be part of it.”

  “Okay,” Joe said to me, “but what about Grant? Will you be mad if he’s been flirting with Klemi?”

  A headache was beginning to form. “What do you think?” Joe’s face went blank and I continued. “Of course I’ll be mad! I don’t care if it’s real life, reality TV, or a reconnaissance mission to the moon; if I find out a guy has been two-timing me, I get pissed off!”

  I don’t know what Joe was expecting me to say, but that wasn’t it. He raised his eyebrows and said, “Well with that, it’s time to vote. Just remember, you can’t vote for Robin because she has immunity.”

  “Joe,” Henry said. “I also have immunity because I found this.” Henry got up and handed Joe the idol.

  Joe looked it over, checking its authenticity. “Okay,” he said. “This is an immunity idol, and it can be used one time only. Since he is presenting it tonight, Henry is also immune. That means only votes for Grant, Bailey, or Klemi will be counted. Robin, you’re up first.”

  I got up and walked to ballot box, where a camera was facing me. I wrote down “Klemi” in large letters, and showed my ballot to the camera. I spoke in a stage whisper. “At long last, it is time for you to go.” Then I folded the ballot, put it in the basket and walked back to my seat. One by one the other cast members came and voted, but the only other ballot they showed in the edited version was Henry’s.

  His ballot said “Grant” in large, block letters. “You are a liar and a cheat. I will be glad to see you gone.”

  Once we were sitting down, Joe said, “I’ll go tally the votes.” He quickly returned with the woven basket that contained our ballots.

  “Remember that all votes are final,” he said. “Once the last ballot has been read, the person voted out will be asked to leave Island Assembly immediately.” He reached into the basket. “First vote, Klemi.” Joe held up the ballot with my writing. The camera showed Klemi rolling her eyes. “Second vote, Bailey.” Joe held up a ballot written with long, girly strokes. It had to be Klemi’s. “Third vote, Grant.” Henry looked over at Grant on the reading of his ballot and raised one eyebrow. “Fourth vote, Grant.” Grant’s eyes widened a little when he realized that Bailey must have voted against him too, and Bailey just stared impassively ahead. Joe cleared his throat. “One vote Klemi, one vote Bailey, two votes Grant, one vote left.”

  Joe reached into the basket at a glacial pace. Every member of the jury was riveted, sitting on the edge of the bench with anticipation. As Joe unfolded the ballot and held it up, my stomach threatened to rise and rebel. If Grant voted for Klemi, that meant he had been telling me the truth. But if he voted for Bailey, if he would betray his original alliance, if he would keep Klemi after promising me she’d be gone, then he wasn’t just lying to me about tonight’s vote. It meant that he’d been lying to me about everything else too.

  My heart was banging in my chest, a perpetual rhythm made more endless because Joe was moving in slow motion. Finally he opened his mouth to speak. “Fifth vote, Bailey.” Joe held up the ballot. There were triangles and rainbows sketched all over it. My jaw dropped as I remembered Grant’s earlier pledge. “When it’s our turn to vote out Bailey, I promise to draw rainbows and purple triangles all over the ballot.”

  I didn’t know if I should have been laughing or crying, running to him or running at him. He mouthed “Told you,” and smiled, like his vote was an inside joke and a gift, not a betrayal at all.

  A couple of the jury members audibly groaned, and Henry sat up, alert, trying to catch my eye. I ignored him.

  “That means we have a tie,” said Joe. “In this situation we revote. Neither Grant nor Bailey will vote, and you other three will only be allowed to vote for Grant or Bailey.”

  Everyone looked down. “Okay,” said Joe. “Henry, you’re up first.” Henry got up, took the ballot basket from Joe, and walked towards the voting spot. He gave me an intense stare as he went. It wasn’t necessary. I already understood. As long as neither he nor Klemi changed their original votes, mine was the only vote that counted.

  Henry returned and sat. Then it was Klemi’s turn. When she returned she sat next to Grant, and she pushed her shoulder against his. He didn’t exactly pull away.

  “Robin,” Joe said. “You’re up.”

  I needed one more message from Grant: some unspoken announcement that I could actually trust him, that his feelings were r
eal, that I’m not a fool, ready to fall for the first set of warm eyes and strong biceps which promised to soothe me.

  But Grant was looking at Klemi and he didn’t hear my silent questions. I stood and walked back to the original voting spot, again facing the camera. I knew the drill.

  Once there, the camera showed me lost in thought. Away from the heat of the fire the island air felt unusually dry and cool. I shivered as I contemplated my choices.

  Bailey could be just as dangerous, I told myself. The jury likes him, and if the last challenge is about endurance, he could win. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Maybe I could win against Grant, and if he’s cheating on me, there would be no better revenge. The pen was sitting before me, ready to write someone’s name on a blank ballot. It was begging me to pick it up. But what if he isn’t cheating on me? If I vote him out, will that be it?

  Finally, I picked up the pen with the intention of writing down Grant’s name. I tried, but the letters wouldn’t limp out.

  Don’t be an idiot, I told myself. He’s a liar and this is your chance to get him out.

  I closed my eyes, willing myself to do what was necessary. Then, suddenly, I could hear my brother Ted’s voice as clearly as if he were standing right there, speaking into my ear. “Don’t ever let things fester,” he said. “Unresolved situations are like poison, and they’ll kill you if you don’t figure them out.” He had learned this at some point in business school and it became his mantra. How many times had he told me this? As older brothers go, he hadn’t told me much. But these words of wisdom were the one life lesson he had taught me.

  I knew it was a mistake but it felt as inevitable as puking after a night of break-up binge drinking. I wrote down my vote, put my ballot in the basket, walked back, and handed it to Joe.

  I sat down, determined not to make eyes with anyone: contestants, jury members, Joe, or the camera. Joe pulled my ballot out of the basket.