Bedroom Games

by Jill Myles

  I cast a worried look at Brodie, who stood on my opposite side. “If there are bugs, I’m going to be really sick.”

  “Just don’t think about it,” he told me. He did a little jog in place and leaned his head from side to side, as if readying for a round in the boxing ring instead of simply drinking something. “You can do this, Kandis.”

  At the far end of the line, Jendan took his glass from Jayme and immediately put a hand up, flinching. “Oh my god. It smells like beef jerky.” He shook his head. “I’m out.”

  “Oh, you and your sensitive stomach,” Marla protested…until she was handed her glass. Then she looked a little ill herself. “That smells really bad.” She held the shake at arm’s length.

  Sunnie took hers without a word of protest.

  I took mine, examining it. There was a thick, pinkish-yellow sludge inside the glass. An oily residue gleamed on top. I sniffed it and sure enough, it did smell like beef jerky. Oh, I did not want that to go in my mouth. I swallowed hard and watched as Brodie took his glass, sniffed it, and made a face. “This shit’s nasty.”

  “Feel free to drop out,” Marla called.

  “I’ll start you out with the first ingredient: milk. Countdown starts in three…two…one,” Jayme called, and she clicked a stop-watch around her neck. “Go!”

  We lifted our glasses. Well, all of us except Jendan. True to his word, he put his full glass down. “I’m not drinking that. I won’t be able to keep it down.” He moved to the side and sat out as I took my first tentative sip of the drink.

  It was awful. Rancid, meaty flavors mixed with god knew what else swirled through my mouth and left an oily taste behind. There were chunks, too, and I immediately pressed fingertips to my mouth to keep from vomiting. Just downing the first mouthful was difficult.

  “Second ingredient,” Jayme called. “Ice to blend your milkshake.”

  I finally swallowed, grimacing, and eyed my glass. It had barely gone down. Ugh.

  “Third ingredient—chicken skin.”

  Marla made a gagging noise down the line. I eyed my drink warily, then took another small sip. If anything, it tasted worse.

  “Next ingredient,” Jayme called. “Pork rinds.”

  My gorge rose. I struggled for a moment and nearly lost it when I took another whiff of the drink. God, the smell (and finding out what was in it) was truly the worst. I took another small sip.

  “Next ingredient is lard.”

  Marla moaned, clearly ill. I looked over at Sunnie, but she had her nose pinched and her eyes closed, and she was slowly downing the horrid cocktail. That wasn’t a bad idea. I pinched my own nose to block the smell and took another tentative sip. It was still awful, but not as stomach-curdling as before. Holding my nose tightly closed, I took a big mouthful and chugged, then shuddered as it went down. I could do this.

  As I slowly drank the shake, Jayme continued to call out ingredients, delighted at our reactions. The list was horrific: cottage cheese, butter, cat food, horseradish, raw egg, beer, sardines, pickles, caramel, duck liver pate, and caviar.

  When they mentioned caviar, Marla made a choked noise of distress and put down her shake then ran off the stage. She was out.

  “Next ingredient, jalapenos,” Jayme called after her. Fido laughed.

  At my side, Brodie burped. I looked over just in time to see him wipe his mouth and set his now-empty glass down. He was done.

  “Good job,” Jayme called, and she and Fido clapped. “Brodie’s the first one finished. Anyone else?”

  “Still drinking,” Sunnie said breathlessly.

  I nodded, grimacing around my latest swallow.

  “You guys have two minutes left,” Jayme said. “Which brings me to the next ingredient…escargot.”

  My stomach heaved. Snails?

  Bugs?

  God, I hated bugs.

  “Come on,” Brodie murmured. “You can do it, Kandis. You’re over halfway through. Don’t think, just drink.”

  My mind was picturing slimy little snails, though, leaving mucus trails up and down the inside of my glass. I had to pause, breathing hard.

  Next to me, Sunnie put down her glass and wiped the corners of her mouth delicately. “Done.”

  I was the last one.

  “Molasses,” Jayme called out.

  “See, that’s not so bad,” Brodie encouraged. “Just chug the rest and think of molasses, Kandis. If I can drink it, you can, too.”

  I nodded, breathing deeply. Chug. I could chug. I could do this. I already had half of the snail soup in my stomach. What was a bit more? I pinched my nose hard and lifted the glass of chunky, greasy pink garbage to my mouth and took another big mouthful.

  “Shrimp,” Jayme called out.

  Immediately, everything in my mouth tasted like shrimp. Liquid shrimp. It was not a good taste. I squeezed my eyes shut, valiantly trying to swallow. It wouldn’t go down. I had to stroke my throat to try and encourage it to behave.

  A long, tense moment passed, and there was nothing but silence. Everyone was watching to see if I’d finish drinking. I was starting to doubt if I could. I still had a third of my glass left and my stomach was starting to churn painfully.

  “Thirty seconds left,” Jayme called.

  “Come on, Kandis. You’ve come this far,” Brodie encouraged. “Hurry up and drink. You can do this. I know you can.”

  I nodded, eyeing the rest of the drink. Thirty seconds to swallow what was left. I took a big mouthful, tipping the glass back to get the rest of it in my mouth, and shuddered when a big clump of thicker stuff slid in after the rest. Grimacing and gagging, I somehow managed to get that last mouthful down.

  My glass thumped to the table just as the stopwatch beeped.

  “All right,” Jayme said. “Kandis, Brodie, and Sunnie all go to the next round. I’ll give you guys a moment to recover.”

  “Can we go throw up?” Sunnie asked in a small voice.

  Jayme shrugged. “Doesn’t say anything against it in the rules here.”

  “Oh, good,” I breathed. Sunnie and I both raced to the bathroom, entering just as Marla was leaving.

  Five horrible minutes later, we’d both puked out guts out, rinsed our mouths, and returned to the challenge area. Brodie was sitting off to the side, chatting with the others, seemingly unfazed by the awful milkshake we’d just drank.

  Sunnie, Brodie, and I lined up for the next challenge. I winced when Fido spun the wheel again, watching the colored panels spin past. I noticed that the milkshake panel was still up, and cringed at the thought of getting that challenge again.

  To my intense relief, the spinner landed on a blue panel. Fido removed the question mark and announced the word underneath. “Makeover.”

  “Uh oh,” Brodie said with a laugh. “The girls aren’t going to like this.”

  He was right about that. I was already frowning. They were going to do their best to make us look heinous on TV, weren’t they? But I’d suck it up and deal with it. Even if I had to wear clown makeup all day, I could do that if it got me one step closer to Power.

  “Don’t you worry about us,” Sunnie said in a determined voice. “I’m going to win this. It’s my turn to nominate someone and that person can see how it feels to have a turn in the chair.”

  And she looked right at me.

  All right, then. It was clear she was going to hold a grudge, and that grudge was going to have my name all over it. Realizing that Sunnie was out to get me upped my determination. I’d just have to win this round to ensure that I was safe.

  Jayme went to the blue table and picked up the card there and then read the instructions aloud. “Makeover booths have been set up in the back of the challenge area. When I say go, you will each go to a booth and complete the makeover look there with the materials provided. You will have five minutes to complete the makeover. If you do not complete it, you will not move on to the next round.”

  We nodded.

  “Everyone ready? Okay then…go!”


  The three of us raced for the booths at the far end of the challenge area. I approached mine and pulled back the bright blue curtain, noticing there was a big door on the other side—this was the same soundproof booth I’d been in when the show started. I stepped inside and closed the door. The back wall was a mirror, and a camera was planted in one corner of the booth. On the desk in front of me was a folder labeled “MAKEOVER INSTRUCTIONS” and a box to the right of it.

  I opened the folder…and gasped.

  The picture was of a woman, seated. Her hair was a mohawk.

  No way.

  Frantic, I opened the box to the right of the picture. Inside was an electric shaver, a pair of scissors and a bottle of hair gel.

  I stared at the mirror and at my long, dark waves of hair. It reached the middle of my back. It had taken years to grow it out this long, and now they wanted me to cut it?

  I could refuse. Walk out of the booth at the end of the five minutes and take my seat with the others. Jendan hadn’t tried the milkshake, after all.

  But Sunnie wanted to win, and she wanted to put me up for eviction. I knew that if I went up on the block, I’d be the one going home.

  I eyed the picture one more time. It was a thick mohawk, at least. The entire top of the girl’s head was long hair, but the sides were completely shaven. At least one part of my hair would remain long. Well, long-ish.

  I picked up the electric razor and stared at it unhappily. If I didn’t cut my hair, would it cost me the million dollars? It was just hair, right? Vanity wasn’t worth the price of going home, was it?

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Mom, I’m doing this for you.”

  And I turned on the razor.

  Five minutes later, I emerged from the booth, still in shock. My long hair lay on the bottom of the booth. The hair on my head was shaved against my scalp on the sides, and the top was a handspan long. I’d spiked it with the hair gel and dug my fingernails into my palms to keep from crying at how awful my reflection looked. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of how Sunnie would look with a mohawk. The celebutante had to be upset over cutting her own long hair.

  Gasps filled the air as I stepped out with my new haircut, and I gave the bench a thin smile. Jendan was clapping for me, grinning. Marla and Jayme looked shocked, and Fido looked like he wanted to laugh.

  The booth next to me opened, and Brodie stepped out, his hair spiked into a shorter version of the mohawk. It actually didn’t look all that different from his normal haircut, which he kept short on the sides anyhow. His would grow out in time. But he threw a pair of devil-horns in the air and headbanged like he’d done something incredible and then turned to high-five me.

  I gave him the world’s limpest high five back. At least I was still in this competition.

  The third booth opened, and Sunnie stepped out.

  Her long red hair was intact.

  I frowned, my hands going to my hips. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “It looks like Sunnie has bailed out of the competition,” Jayme announced. “Please have a seat with the other losers.”

  She gave a toss of her hair. “I refuse to look ugly on national TV. Sorry.”

  I flinched at her words and resisted the urge to touch my hair. That little liar. She’d said she would do anything to win. Guess not. I looked over at Brodie.

  He winked at me and gave me a thumbs-up.

  I was glad one of us was feeling good about how things were going.

  “This competition is down to Brodie and Kandis,” Jayme announced. “They will go head to head in the next round, and the winner gets the Power Play for the week!” She gave a flourish of her hand. “Spin that wheel, Fido!”

  He spun, and I crossed my fingers, hard. I didn’t think I could take another makeover. Or another milkshake. I held my breath, watching as the wheel slowly spun around. Please be an obstacle course of some kind. I can do that.

  The wheel landed on purple. Fido lifted the card and read. “Make your momma proud.”

  Jayme went over to the purple table and picked up the card there. “This challenge is both easy and difficult,” she read. “It’s easy, because all you have to do is tear off all your clothes and streak across the challenge area naked. It’s difficult, because it involves being naked! But if you do it, you’ll win the Power Play. You both have five minutes to complete this challenge. And don’t worry—any naked bits will be blurred out for national TV. Ready?” She clicked the stopwatch. “Go!”

  I stood there, my jaw hanging slightly open. Sunnie smirked at me from the sidelines. Of course she was smirking. Not only did she have a full head of hair, but she wasn’t going to have to get naked on national TV. I looked over at Brodie, but he hadn’t moved a muscle yet. He was watching me, his gaze curious.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “What if we both refuse to do this?”

  “Then we all start over,” Jayme said. “Everyone re-enters the competition.”

  “Fuck that,” Brodie said, and began to strip off his athletic shorts.

  The others laughed, cheering and clapping, encouraging him on. I remained frozen in place. Brodie was going to do it to ensure one of us would win. If I took off all my clothes and streaked, I’d get to go on to the next round. And then what? More milkshakes? Shave my head completely bald? Do a naked dance? I shuddered.

  My hands went to the hem of my shirt and…I stopped. I couldn’t do it. I swallowed hard, feeling sick all over again even though my stomach was empty.

  I’d come this far. Could I strip to win?

  I looked over. Brodie was down to his underwear, his clothing pooled around his feet. He put his hands on the waistband of his boxers and then paused, glancing over at me.

  Waiting to see if I was going to do it.

  “I can’t,” I murmured thickly. I’m sorry, Mom. “I can’t get naked on national TV.”

  “I can,” Brodie announced.

  Down went his boxers.

  ~~ * ~~

  We’d drawn straws to see who’d end up in what rooms since we were down to seven contestants. Brodie had the Power room, of course. Marla and Jendan had taken the Queen room, and Sunnie offered to pile into the Mirror room with Jayme and Fido because she was scared to sleep in the Attic room by herself. We weren’t in pairs anymore, but people felt comfortable with their partners.

  Brodie was practically doing flips with excitement as he waited to get the key. There was always a delay in the passing of the key from one team to another, as crews moved in to clean the room between occupants and filled it with personal items that the winning cast member would enjoy. So he waited in the living room, chatting with the others enthusiastically and laughing at some of the jokes Fido was telling.

  I wasn’t feeling particularly social, though. As we waited for a room, I grabbed my bag, stuffed full of my things, and headed to the bathrooms to see if anything could be done with my hair.

  I refuse to look ugly on national TV, Sunnie had said.

  I showered to wash the stiff gel out of my hair, changed into my favorite yoga pants and a sloppy t-shirt, and then played with my wet hair. If I brushed it all to one side, it didn’t look like a mohawk so much. Mostly like it was shaved on one side and then just long on the other. It made my face look long and skinny, though.

  I hated it. I’d loved my long hair.

  And I’d cut it all for nothing. I hadn’t even won the challenge.

  “Got the keys,” Brodie called out to me from the living room. “Come on, Kandis!”

  Giving my horrible hair one last unhappy look in the mirror, I shouldered my bag and headed back out to the others, trying to mask my misery.

  Everyone was heading up the stairs to check out Brodie’s room, so I followed them up silently. I hung in the back as everyone crowded in, admiring the decor. The room was switched up depending on who won, and the room today was set up in a 70s psychedelic funk. A thick white faux-fur carpet was on the ground, and an enormous bed filled the center of
the room. Black light posters hung on the walls, and lava lamps were on each dresser. Ropes of beads hung in the doorway from the bedroom to the private bathroom. A mini-fridge complete with a basket of food was in one corner.

  “Swanky,” Fido said with a grin. “It’s like they knew your personality, man.”

  “70s porn star?” Jendan joked.

  Brodie just laughed. “They must have picked this stuff with me in mind.” He thumped a finger on a lava lamp and then glanced over at me.

  I was silent as the others chatted and laughed, examining Brodie’s room and picking through his things. They exclaimed over the basket of treats and the fridge full of beer, and it was like a party all over again. I sat down on the edge of the bed with my bag and grabbed one of the fringed pillows, hugging it as I watched the others. They drank beer, ate Brodie’s chips, and laughed and chatted for what seemed like forever.

  After a time, Brodie yawned and then waved at the door. “Okay, time for me to go to sleep. All ya’ll get out of here.” He sent them out with bottles of beer to assuage any hard feelings, and finally the door was closed after the last person.

  When we were alone, he turned to me where I sat on the bed. “You okay, Kandis?”

  I nodded, lying. I wasn’t okay, but it also wasn’t something I could describe to a guy. I feel ugly and stupid because we cut my hair into this horrible mess and I got nothing out of it. I’d heard that there was shock after you cut long hair, and right now, I was feeling pretty devastated.

  And even though I told myself I wouldn’t cry, a tear trailed down my cheek. Angry, I swiped it away.

  “Hey, hey,” Brodie said, concerned. He slid closer to me on the bed and pulled me against him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m just being stupid,” I told him shakily, rubbing my hands on my face to wipe it clean. “Just ignore me.”