by Sarah Gagnon
“I think he was staring at me,” Shelley Anne whispers.
I was pretty sure he was making eye contact with me. She crosses and uncrosses her legs repeatedly and I rub my knuckles. I already elbowed one person today and that was terrible. Why am I suddenly considering whacking Shelley Anne? She adds to the leg crossing by biting her fingernails and I try my damnedest to block her out. Was he really looking at her, and why do I care?
The roar of the plane’s engine knocks me out of my thoughts. I sit on my trembling hands. Shelley Anne grips the armrest. I pretend to sleep so that she won’t know I’m nervous, too.
In my daydream, Jeremy walks across the park and sits on my blanket. He pulls out a guitar, his long fingers wrapping around the neck of the instrument. There are big trees overhead, casting triangles over his features while he strums. He hums a line and I want to kiss him so bad. After the song is over, of course. Oh, and he’s brought a picnic basket full of fruit.
Eleanor and Bill pass by and disappear into Jeremy’s section, completely distracting me from imagining what types of fruit would be in the basket. Fifteen minutes later they come back through with a cameraman behind them.
Jeremy ruffles his hair and rubs his eyes. “They thought it would be good to have me ask you girls a few questions now in case they need filler for the show.” He holds up a piece of paper. “Uh, I’ll just go down the row and ask a question to each of you.” Gosh, he looks tired.
Bill points out which girl to start filming—Shelley Anne, who is right next to me, and I’m strapped down with no way to escape, with a video camera two feet from my head. No pressure. “Question one: if you could have one wish in the world, what would it be?” Jeremy glances up from his sheet of paper and waits.
Shelley flips her hair one way and then the other. “There are a lot of things I would like for myself,” she pauses and stares right at Jeremy, “but if I only have one wish, it would have to be for world peace.”
Ahh, so cliché, and yet, what else could she have said to sound better? Bill points to me and Jeremy shifts his gaze. “If the world was ending and you could save one other person, who would it be?”
Oh, crap. This is one of those questions: if I say I’d save him, I’ll sound like a loser. I don’t really know him and I’d be essentially picking a complete stranger over people I’ve known my whole life. But then, I don’t want him to think that I’m leaving him out there to die. “My mother,” I say with a sigh.
He gives a tired laugh. “You don’t sound so sure.”
“I just don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you in a field with fire and brimstone raining down on our heads as I grab someone else to save. I suppose I could trade you for me, but when it came down to it, I’d probably go for self-preservation.”
“That’s as honest of an answer as I’ve ever heard.” He smiles again at me, but Bill points to the next girl. Claire. “What’s your favorite food?”
“Butternut squash ravioli and cheesecake.” Ugh. I recognize the food from an interview Jeremy gave about his favorite meal years ago. Like that’s going to impress him.
Next up, Praline. Jeremy rubs his eyes again, poor guy. “How long can you hold your breath?” Huh? Guess my question wasn’t so bad.
She doesn’t say anything and then I realize she’s holding her breath. I hope Eleanor or Bill started counting. An awkward sixty seconds of silence pass. Finally she sucks in air. “About a minute,” she announces.
Bill shakes his head and points to a Jasmine clone, Mel, I think. Jeremy loses his place on the page and runs his fingers over the words while we all lean forward in our seats, watching him. “If you had to pick one tool to survive in a winter landscape, what would it be?”
“A thermo tent,” she says. I don’t think that counts as a tool.
Next clone, Brie. “If you had to pick one other contestant to throw off the plane, who would it be?” Jeremy laughs as he asks. He’s merging into deliriously tired. I know the look.
Brie points to Jasmine and all of us try not to giggle. I think Jasmine whispers “bitch” to her, but I’m too far away to make out the words. Jeremy turns to Jasmine and she’s all smiles. “If you had to be cursed with either big feet or big hands, which would you choose?”
“These are funny questions. Did you come up with them yourself?” She bats her eyelashes at him.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be. You’re so much fun. I guess I’d pick big feet. They’re easier to hide.”
Jeremy nods and Bill points at the next girl, but the plane bumps up and down and the seatbelt sign pops back on. “Thank God,” Jeremy mumbles.
Bill stands in front of us. “I guess that will be enough. Everyone make sure your seatbelts are buckled.” I watch him and Eleanor return to their seats. They have a pile of paper between them and I wonder if they’re assigning dates right now. Or maybe that’s up to the producers. Did Jeremy like the answer to my question? Is honesty a good thing?
Outside of the plane window, dark and light clouds pepper the sky. I bet if they were a food they’d be sweet. Maybe like marshmallows. Lucky for me, processed sugar is almost as cheap as vitamin spread. We’re too high up for a view of the landscape below. According to most environmentalists, the entire country is as overbuilt as Boston. I’d like to see that for myself.
The plane tilts and circles down to land. Before we reach the ground, I catch a glimpse of foliage and blue water that look just like the brochure. Key West. Palm trees decorate the edges of the airport terminal. I instantly love them. All the leaves are on top, like the trees have big, shaggy hair. The city buildings are circled in thin clouds, but appear to be close. The plane bumps to a stop.
“Girls, stick together.” Bill stands in front of us, adjusting his suit jacket. “Our agenda for this morning is to check into the hotel and get situated in our rooms. The first date will be this evening, but we’ll meet and discuss that along with our schedule in the hotel meeting room this afternoon.”
I reach under the seat in front of me and pull out my bag. Shelley Anne fumbles with her lap belt so I demonstrate with my own. A big whoosh of warm air encircles me as I step off the plane and I wiggle my toes. Anything new and different is awesome.
Jeremy is already off the plane. A limo pulls up alongside and he turns, smiles, waves, and climbs in the back. I’m smiling so wide my face feels stiff. The air here even tastes sweet, or if not quite sweet, it doesn’t taste like the tar exhaust of cars.
We board a compact white shuttle. I snag a window seat to watch every single thing. If Fluxem gets me, I’ll have all of this to remember. I shake off the fatalism. I can do this. I can win enough for the cure. The shuttle whips through the street too quickly. A golden arch frames the hotel entrance. Grand Escalatta, the neon lights proclaim. A clean swath of green carpet leads in. This is so incredible. I turn back toward the shuttle and I’m rewarded with a glimpse of the ocean. The whole city hums. “What’s that noise?” Eleanor asks the bellboy.
“The water purifier, ma’am.”
Oh. I understand now. This section of ocean truly is aquamarine because they’re cleaning it. Constantly, from the sound of it. I wonder how much that costs? Bill checks us in at the front counter and holds up five envelopes.
“Two to a room. Pair up now.” Shelley Anne is still standing close to me, so I just slide a bit closer and she flares her nostrils in relief. She’s such a strange girl. I’m just glad I’m not sharing a room with Jasmine.
We take the stainless steel elevator up to the seventh floor. The carpet is patterned in tropical colors and the theme continues inside, with a parrot-shaped lamp next to the first bed. The room is three times the size of my apartment. In the bathroom, I pull back an orange shower curtain to reveal a bathtub with a cyclone feature. I step back out into the main room and kick off my sneakers to slowly walk the perimeter. My toes sink deep in the plush carpeting. We have a window that overlooks half of another building, a parking garage, and a quarter
inch of aqua water.
“What are you doing?” Shelley Anne asks.
“The carpet is really soft.”
She raises her eyebrows at me. “Who do you think will have the first date tonight?”
“I have no idea,” I say, pausing at the window again.
“I hope it’s me. I can’t wait to kiss Jeremy.” Her voice is high with excitement and I’m glad I’m facing away so that she can’t see my grimace. If the other contestants are going to be physically affectionate, it might hurt my chances to impress the viewers.
“How can you be so sure he wants to kiss you?”
She turns and huffs. “It’s a TV show. There’s always kissing.” Hmm. Not an encouraging thought.
“He’s a real person, you know. This isn’t just some actor.”
“Geez. I didn’t mean anything by it.” She narrows her eyes in my direction. “You don’t have to be so mean. Isn’t there a chance he’d want to kiss me?”
I lean against the window. “Sure.” There’s a chance of just about anything happening. I was only alone with him for a moment…in a bathroom. I’m not an expert, but in the interview they asked about whether or not I was sexually active because Jeremy doesn’t want to be mauled. I don’t know about the rest of the girls, but I’m going to apply that to my strategy.
The hotel meeting room is windowless and sterile with white-washed walls and a gray formica conference table. I feel like I’ve gotten one of those dreadful secretarial jobs, until the wave of perfume hits me. The mix of strange fragrances the other girls are wearing instantly gives me a headache. I hope Jeremy isn’t smell-sensitive, because he’s in for it.
“Bill isn’t able to join us,” Eleanor says. “I’ll go over the important points with you and he can fill in anything I missed later.” She drags her hand through her shoulder-length graying hair. “This room will be ours for the length of our stay. Consider it the viewing room.” She pushes a button at the corner of the table and the wall behind her comes alive. “This screen will show views from the various cameras during the dates. Unfortunately, the audio from the personal mics will be dubbed in later, so you’ll only have the visual. Of course, you don’t have to watch, but as I said, the room will be open.”
I stare at the blank screen and then across the table. All of us are staring, contemplating being watched every moment of our date. Not a romantic thought.
“Here is the list of dates.” She sets a sheet of paper in the center of the table and everyone grabs for it. Praline wins, clutching the edge of the paper. The rest of us form a circle behind her, trying to see our names.
Claire—Dance Club
Monet—Beach
Praline—Emperor Exhibit
I can’t read anymore. I’m number two and I’m going to the beach. My luck is gone. I don’t own a bathing suit. I have practically no money and I can’t swim. I don’t have a chance.
Shelley Anne squeals. “I get to go canoeing!” She sways on her feet, a dreamy expression filling up her face. “Imagine me in a little boat with Jeremy.”
Praline taps Eleanor on the shoulder, trying to figure out what hers means. Now that the list is free, I read over the rest. There it is, 4. Shelley Anne-Canoeing. I assume the formal names are restaurants. And because I can’t help it, I scan for Jasmine’s name. 10. Jasmine-Snorkeling. I wonder how she feels about that. From her snotty expression, it’s hard to tell whether she’s considering herself superior or is just plain pissed off. The dates are arranged for both daytime and nighttime. The producers must be packing them together so that the finalists are chosen before the benefit concert.
I can’t believe they signed me up for a beach date. A dinner date would’ve been so much easier.
“Don’t pout, Monet. The expression is unbecoming.” My jaw tightens. Thanks a lot, Jasmine. And I wasn’t pouting. She sashays over to the table. “Eleanor, will meals be provided for us?”
“Yes, yes, of course. I forgot to mention that. Thanks for the reminder. Our assigned dining room table is L27. The restaurant opens for a period of two hours surrounding meal times and you girls are welcome to order anything you want. With the exception of alcoholic beverages, of course. I know some of you may be accustomed to drinking at home, but that behavior is not something the show wants to promote.”
No one argues the rule and I wish they’d all hurry up and leave so that I can talk to Eleanor about my date.
“Also, each of you needs to remember to leave your prints on the elevator panel. The floor is secure for Jeremy, and we need a record of who’s coming and going. Do not forget or you will lose your date privileges and be excluded from the competition. I’m sure you girls can appreciate the absolute necessity of keeping Jeremy safe.”
We all nod in unison. I think Shelley Anne scanned her thumb to open the elevator door; I don’t even remember if I did afterward or not. From the shifting about in chairs, everyone is wondering the same thing.
“Um, since we didn’t know, can we just go scan in now? I mean, I would’ve if I’d known, but no one told us when we checked in and—”
“Yes, that’s fine, Praline. You can scan in after the meeting.” Eleanor goes back to her checklist and continues reading to us. “Time of day for each date will be finalized with the contestant twenty-four hours in advance. Claire, sorry for the short notice, but you’ll be collected from your room at six-thirty this evening. Monet, be ready by ten a.m.”
Wow, this is really happening fast. First I get interviewed a day early, and now my date is one of the first ones. After years of trying to save money, this chance is so close.
“Any other questions?”
The mumble of voices fades out and all I can think of is the time ticking away. Seconds closer to my date with Jeremy. A minute. Two minutes. I’m going to the beach with Jeremy Bane! The most amazing musician I’ve ever heard and the most attractive man on the planet. And I’m doing it tomorrow. Unfathomable. I’ve been plugged in, amped up. I’m all adrenaline and anticipation. I just need a damn bathing suit.
I wait for the others to leave for the restaurant before I approach Eleanor. “Hey,” I say, shy all of a sudden. “I’m scheduled for a beach date tomorrow.”
“Uh, huh.” She straightens her pile of documents and stands by the door, ready to leave.
“I don’t have a bathing suit with me.”
“Oh,” she says, considering my problem. “You’re allowed to go shopping within the hotel.”
“I’m not sure if I have enough money.” I flip over my wrist, displaying my lack of a chip.
“Oh.” Her tone of voice changes and I wonder what she thinks of me now. “Uh, I guess the studio can buy you one. I mean, they want good ratings and all, so you in a bathing suit is important.”
The studio thinks people want to see me scantily clad? All those people ogling me on their TVs. The thought makes me feel grimy.
“We can stop in the hotel gift shop on our way to lunch.”
I’m such a loser. “Thanks.”
The hotel gift shop has a total of three bathing suits hanging on the wall. All bikinis with “Key West” written on them. Oh, boy. I get to advertise as well.
Eleanor wrinkles her nose at the selection. “The locals will love it,” she promises. “Bright purple, lime green, or yellow?”
Oh, so many choices. “Purple,” I say in my best attempt at enthusiasm. “Thank you so much. I’m so embarrassed not to have packed one.” Not to own one.
She scans her own chip at the register and pushes a button for a paper receipt, which she sticks in between the stack of papers. “Thanks again,” I tell her. She hands me the bag and I see the extremely vibrant purple glowing at the bottom. Maybe the color will attract Jeremy’s attention.
Eleanor and I leave the gift shop and walk down the hall into the restaurant. The ceiling is vaulted. Fake parrots dip and swoop overhead. They must be robotic, which is good since I don’t want anything falling on my plate. She knows the way to our table and I fol
low along gratefully. I flick through the menu screen on the table. I want to try everything. I will not miss a single meal.
Claire is already at the table along with Jaime and Crystal. Claire has the first date and judging from her dancing outfit after the interview, she must have a plan to impress Jeremy. They probably picked the dance club location to showcase her talent. Across the table, the pores in her skin stand out even with foundation. “Are you nervous about tonight?” I ask.
“No way. I know I’ll have a blast. I just hope Jeremy can keep up with me on the dance floor. I like to move.” Her lips bulge as she slides her tongue along her teeth.
“Maybe he doesn’t even like dancing,” Jaime says. I wish she would change out the purple contacts for something less distracting.
Crystal clinks her glass on the table. “He’s a musician. Of course he likes dancing, duh.”
Claire straightens up, pushing her breasts out. “Well, he’ll like grinding with me.”
I take a sip of my water. Jaime stares at me. “You’re date number two.”
I nod.
She sips her water, still staring. “Do you think you’re lucky to have the beach date?”
“Uh, no. Not really.” I glance down at the tabletop and then up at the fake parrot.
Jaime’s expression softens. She rubs her finger along the rim of her glass. “Am I the only one here who just wants to find out what the real Jeremy is like?” I wish I could say yes, but I’m here for the prize. Hanging out with Jeremy will be cool, but I have a very real disease.
Crystal swallows a mouthful and sets down her fork. “Yeah, getting to know the real Jeremy would be nice, but be serious. There’ll be a camera constantly on, this could be nothing more than another performance for him.”
“For me the dance club date is a definite advantage. Even if I’m not chosen, being on screen could help my dance career. Who knows, maybe Jeremy and I will have some real chemistry.” Claire sits back in her seat.
Jaime rolls her eyes. A Jasmine clone arrives at the table and snags a chair from the one next to ours. “Hey, I caught the tail end of the convo. I’m Mel, in case anyone forgot. It’s so hard to remember all the names.”
