He left the room. A few minutes later, he returned with the leftover art supplies. This time, he helped me make the cards. When we realized I didn’t remember enough of the rules to teach anyone else how to play, we invited Rachel and Ed to join us in a Speed tournament. An hour later, Justin and I played for five (imaginary) dollars a game until moonlight bathed the kitchen.
“I hope you win the grand prize, Justin, because at this rate, you’re going to owe me hundreds of dollars before we get out of here.”
He glanced at our scrap of paper. “Ahem. At the moment, I owe you exactly ten dollars.”
“What about our bet? And the interest?”
“Excuse me. I owe you ten dollars, three cents. You’ve only won one more game. Final match? Double or nothing?”
I yawned and stretched. I liked hanging out with him, but we had a challenge in the morning. “Some other time. I need to get my beauty sleep if I’m going to compete against all you athletic-types tomorrow.”
Rain beat against the roof when I crawled into bed, exhausted but happy.
When I awoke, early morning sunlight streamed through the glass. I sighed with relief. I wouldn’t have been able to stand another entire day locked inside, even with my homemade deck of cards and all the junk food I wanted. Too bad I couldn’t bake a Venti non-fat caramel macchiato with extra foam.
I found Ed on the landing. We found cereal on the kitchen counter with a note from the producers, encouraging us to eat quickly. As I debated whether to wake the others, alarms sounded. A moment later, footsteps pounded down the stairs.
After breakfast, Leanna gathered us into the living room. “Okay! For our next challenge, we’re going to take a field trip.”
A person could only walk in circles around the backyard for so long. Everyone cheered.
“Make sure you’re wearing athletic clothes with socks that cover your ankles. Ladies, you’ll want sports bras. Meet me back here in five minutes.”
A frenzy of activity followed.
Wham!
Ow. That was a wall. Again. Stupid invisible glass walls. I rushed through my routine. Ariana and Rachel grumbled at not having enough time to do their makeup, but Ariana always rolled out of bed looking perfect. She offered thinly veiled requests for compliments disguised as a problem. Ariana, Queen of the Humblebrag.
Three and a half minutes later, I stood in the entry hall, ready to go.
Half an hour later, we reached our destination. Removing the blindfold they’d made us wear, I squinted into the sunlight.
Birdie’s voice told me where we were. “Awesome! I love #JumpQuest! We’re going #trampolining!”
Jump Quest? Sure enough, we stood in front of a trampoline place. Our challenge was jumping? Weird.
Tall and the production assistant I’d come to think of as “Curly Beard” herded us inside the building and handed out special high-topped shoes. Then, they directed us to a large trampoline, divided into squares. Bella waited there in pristine workout clothes.
“You’re going to play dodgeball, with a twist. When a ball hits you, I’ll ask a trivia question. If you get it right, you stay. If you throw a ball and someone catches it, again, we’ll ask a trivia question. Whoever gives the correct answer first stays in,” she said. “Each ball is a different color. The color of the ball determines what kind of question I ask you. For example, purple is music, blue is geography, etc.”
Ew. I almost as good at music trivia as I was at singing.
Please, God, if you could just help all the purple balls swerve around me, I promise to always help little old ladies crossing the street.
“Yell your answers, because you can’t wear your microphones for this challenge.”
Tall collected our microphones. After three weeks, I felt naked without it.
“Also, you may have noticed you’re on a trampoline. One person per square, please. The dividing lines are not bouncy—don’t jump on them. It is possible to bounce off the walls, but be careful!
“We’ll play three games. The person who lasts the longest through all three games is immune this week. The two players with the least amount of playing time will be up for elimination. Ready?”
Bella held up the golden fishbowl and drew names. I wound up on a team with Birdie, Mike, Raj, and Maria. We lined up on one side of the court, facing Justin, Rachel, Ariana, Ed, and Abram—all the athletic people. Awesome.
Blowing a whistle, Bella threw out three balls. With a flurry of activity, the game began.
Usually, I’m not bad at dodgeball. I’m in pretty good shape, and I can dodge well enough. The problem is, I can’t throw. Someone always catches it.
Note to self: only throw ball at Ariana.
I could probably answer questions faster than she could.
For the first game, I hid toward the back of the court. I wanted to let the people in front eliminate some of the players on the other team for me. Unfortunately, Justin threw a ball that sailed past the boys and collided with my shoulder almost immediately.
Breet! That must have been the fastest the teenaged referee ever blew her whistle.
“Jennifer!” Bella called me from the sidelines. “Finish this quote, ‘Quoth the raven, _______.’”
Oh! I knew that. I shouted, “Nevermore,” and scooped up the ball.
I waited until Ariana faced away from me, then aimed, trying not to bounce all over the place. Once I had her in my sights, I let the ball fly. Oops. The foam ball weighed almost nothing; my throw missed Ariana by several feet. Worse, I’m not sure the ball even made it across the centerline. How embarrassing. I ducked as another ball whizzed over my head.
Breet! Ariana was out. Someone else got her.
Whap! Oops. Maybe I should’ve been paying attention to the game instead of the “Mimza” member.
“Jennifer! What is the capital of Burundi!”
“Umm.” No idea. My only thought involved a line from a comedian’s skit my mom watched when I was a child.
“Five seconds!”
I had nothing. “Eddie Izzard?”
Behind me, someone laughed. Bella smiled at me. “I’m sorry, Jennifer, but that is not correct.”
“I didn’t think so.”
C’mon! How many people know that? I mean, other than. . .I wracked my brain. Burundi-ans? The people of Burundi? What are they called?
On the sidelines, Ariana sat smirking. Not wanting to talk to her, I picked a spot several feet away, but she didn’t take the hint. She rose to her feet and approached, then cocked one hip and leaned against the wall beside me. For a second, I was right back in Dom’s bedroom, looking at his wife. A wave of dizziness made me almost miss her words.
“Guess Justin doesn’t like you as much as you thought.”
Lost in the memory of the most humiliating night of my life, I must’ve misheard her. “What?”
“He aimed that first ball at you. I saw him.” She tossed her hair and patted my shoulder condescendingly. “It’s okay, Jen. Really, you might have had a shot with Justin if I weren’t here. He does seem to like you well enough.”
Why did they take our microphones?
I fumed for a split second, until I realized I could also speak my mind without being caught. Justin wasn’t Dominic, and Ariana had no claim on him. I didn’t have to give up without a fight this time. A glance around verified that no one else stood nearby.
“You know what I like about you, Ariana?” I pitched my voice so she could hear me over the music without having to get any closer to her.
“What?”
“Nothing. I can’t wait until we send you home. You are a nasty, horrible person.”
Ariana sniffled. “How could you say such a horrible thing to me? You’re so mean!” She dropped to the ground and sobbed into her knees.
What the. . .? Oh no.
Everyone stared at us. The room had gone silent when the producers paused the music. Bella stood poised to ask someone
a trivia question, but everyone heard me.
My face flamed. The whistle blew, and the music resumed. Ed joined us on the sidelines. He started to say something, but I shook my head and inched farther down the wall. Tears of humiliation stung my eyes.
What was I thinking? I knew she was an actress. She was putting on a show for the viewers. Of course.
I cheered for my team mechanically, not focusing on the game. Why had Justin aimed for me? Did he want to send me home?
The second game went much better. By hanging in the back and ducking frequently, I made it to the end. But in the third game, a ball again hit me early on. I didn’t see who threw it, but I suspected a busty brunette with a bad attitude.
After the final game, we lined up to hear the results. Ariana had the shortest amount of time overall. I came in second-to-last. Abram won two games and came in second in the third, so he won immunity again.
“Way to go, Abe!” Rachel high-fived him so enthusiastically she bounced backward across the trampoline and fell on her butt against the far wall. She sat, hard, and burst out laughing. Raj and Ed helped her to her feet as we all hid grins.
The other results didn’t matter. Me versus Ariana. Could I beat her in a popularity contest? Sure, in the challenges, I could outwit her, but this was different. I had to convince the other contestants they’d rather have me around than the sultry, leggy siren.
I wished everyone hadn’t heard me yell at Ariana. She was too good at playing the victim. Briefly, I considered bribing the other contestants with more cookies.
A terrible thought struck me: Who would Justin vote for? He definitely threw the ball at me in the first game. People usually aimed for the players they wanted to get out. Just like I did.
When the results were revealed, would I find out he’d chosen the woman he wanted in the house, and I wasn’t her?
* * *
For the next few days, I couldn’t sit still. My legs jiggled any time I sat. In the kitchen, I tapped my fingers on the counter so loudly Ed sent me to run laps around the yard. Even in the hot tub, I played with my hair.
Birdie and Ed were on my side, but I couldn’t figure out how to count the votes until we knew who I was up against. At the moment, I only knew of three votes against Ariana. She would undoubtedly vote against me. I worried Justin might, too. I couldn’t read him.
As much as I liked spending time with him, I couldn’t be sure he felt the same way. Maybe he only hung around me to make Ariana jealous. Or maybe he wanted to set up a love triangle for the viewers. This was, after all, first and foremost a game. TV viewers liked drama, especially love stories.
On Monday morning, we learned the viewers nominated Raj for elimination.
That didn’t make much sense to me, but I hadn’t been paying attention to him during the game.
I followed Birdie and Ed into the kitchen. “Raj, really? Didn’t he win the first game?”
Birdie started a pot of coffee, and Ed began to chop vegetables. “He got hit with a ball in the first game and the refs didn’t notice. He stayed in the game. Rachel called him a #cheater.”
“Ohhhh, wow. I can see why America might not like that. Especially after Joshua. Is this house full of cheaters?”
Ed shrugged, pulling eggs out of the fridge. “It’s dodgeball. It’s practically a rule to pretend not to have been hit if you think you can get away with it. The ball glanced off his foot. It’s possible he didn’t feel it, especially on the trampoline.”
The faint hope that had been building within me vanished. “So you don’t think he cheated?”
“No, not really.” Ed tested the pan, then cracked an egg into it. A sizzle sounded as a delicious aroma filled the air. “But don’t worry, Jen. I’m still voting for Ariana. She hates me because I’m immune to feminine wiles.”
Birdie brought a stack of mugs to the counter. “We might be better off talking everyone into voting for Raj. Sorry, Jen, but Ariana is #playingthegame well.”
“She really is. Look at how she set you up. No one heard her goad you, but we all got an earful of you calling her a horrible person.” Ed grinned, and my face flushed. “It was amazing. I’m thinking about making it my ringtone when I leave. Someone has to post the video on YouTube.”
“It’s not my fault! She’s a professional actress.” Briefly, I filled them in one what I learned before the show started. “My best friend and I watched her movies. Her acting’s definitely improved.”
“That explains a lot. She’s good at manipulating the audience.”
“Don’t forget the way she plays the victim whenever possible,” Birdie chimed in. “‘Abram ate the last cookie! They’re all such bullies! Wah!’”
“So what do I do? Tell everyone she’s a professional?”
Ed said, “It might not make a difference. Actress or not, she’s here to play the game, and she’s doing well. Raj is a loner. It might be easier to get people to vote for him. Deal with one week at a time.”
I sighed. He was right. I didn’t want to go home yet, and I didn’t like being up for elimination. But if America wanted Raj to go home, maybe I could use that to my advantage.
“Well, you won’t have to convince me.” Rachel stood in the entrance to the kitchen, wearing a light green cover-up that made her tanned skin glow. Her blond hair lay in twin braids down her back. I’d felt about six years old when I wore the same look, but it worked for her.
“Sorry, I smelled coffee. Not eavesdropping.” She walked around the kitchen and pulled a stack of plates from a cupboard. “My vote goes to Raj. I definitely hit him. I bet Abe’s with me.”
After breakfast, Ariana permanently attached herself to Justin, so there was no way to ask about his vote. Every time I turned around, she was bringing him a drink, lounging next to him on a raft, or watching him like a hawk.
Even if I hadn’t been developing a huge crush on him, it irked me. I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t here for love. After what happened with Dominic, I might never be ready to trust someone again. And this situation didn’t exactly breed trust and honesty.
If only Justin weren’t quite so cute. Charming. Funny. Or if that lock of blond hair wasn’t always falling adorably across his forehead. Or if his lips weren’t so soft and kissable.
I shook myself mentally. That kind of thinking got me nowhere.
Instead I tallied the votes in my head: Birdie, Ed, and I were voting for Ariana. Rachel and Abram were voting for Raj. Maria would probably vote for Ariana. They had a weird, unspoken grudge match like the ones that sprung up between the prettiest girls in high school (who always became “best frenemies”). Raj was pissed he couldn’t vote for Rachel, since she accused him of cheating.
So, Ariana had three or four votes, Raj and I each had at least two, and Mike refused to tell anyone what he thought. I would’ve respected him for it if I hadn’t had been so terrified that my time in the Fishbowl might be coming to an end. If I were eliminated this early in the game, I had no idea what I’d do when I got home.
CHAPTER 11
Scenes from the School Room, Week 3:
Maria: The capital of Burundi is Bujumbura. Why?
Ariana: The others are all so mean to me. Jennifer uses big words I don’t know to make me look dumb. Why do they make fun of me? It’s not fair. I can’t help if I’m not smart. It was so embarrassing when she yelled at me! She’s a big bully. And I thought Justin and I had a real connection, but he ignores me when she’s around. I want Jen to go, ASAP.
Raj: I honestly didn’t feel a ball hit my foot at any point during that game. There was no whistle. But I don’t think Rachel would lie about it. There was a lot going on, I could’ve missed it.
Birdie: Thanks for adding the trivia to the dodgeball game so those of us who aren’t super athletic had a chance. #Brainsnotbrawn
The pending elimination haunted me, making sleep impossible. I tossed and turned until Maria slipped something under my pillow. A tin
y, hard oval.
It felt like a pill, but that didn’t narrow it down much. Could be anything from Lortab to birth control to Viagra. I wondered if Maria would try to poison me.
Probably not, but I should know what I held before I considered taking it.
Since my restlessness bothered at least one person, I inched toward the door. Clouds blocked the moonlight filtering through the glass. One hand against the wall, I felt my way to the ground floor.
My eyes adjusted enough in the dim light to navigate into the kitchen. I wondered what time it was, but no clocks hung in the Fishbowl. We told time based on our stomachs and the sun. If the producers wanted us to be somewhere, they blasted alarms. Heck, I only kind of guessed what day it was.
A silent, empty kitchen greeted me. I flipped on the lights and examined the pill Maria slipped under my pillow. Xanax? I laughed. Thoughts of the elimination kept me awake, but I didn’t need anti-anxiety pills. With a shrug, I dropped it into the sink. Then, I grabbed a beer from the fridge and went outside. Maybe it would calm me enough to sleep.
The clouds shifted, allowing the moon to illuminate my path to a chair by the pool. No reason to turn on the outdoor lights. I leaned back, put my feet up, and sipped my beer, wondering if this was how I’d spend my last night in the Fishbowl. Not a bad way to pass some time, even if I didn’t know where I’d go once I left. To Brandon’s couch, probably.
When the patio door behind me slid open, I jumped about a foot.
“It’s okay. It’s just me. I thought you might want to see a friendly face.”
The moon sat high in the sky. As Justin walked toward me, I wondered if I’d fallen asleep and started dreaming, like in the airport. Could I pinch myself without him noticing?
“Hey,” I said. “What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Then I heard someone walking around, so I came to investigate. I’m glad it’s you.” He sat sideways on the chair next to mine, facing me.
America's Next Reality Star Page 12
