America's Next Reality Star

by Laura Heffernan

  She smiled mysteriously. “Well, see, we’re not going to tell you until after you do it. But it’s something you’re likely to want.”

  The front door opened, and a line of assistants walked through with baskets full of produce, headed toward the kitchen.

  Leanna continued. “For the rest of the day, you may only eat fruits and veggies. Water is allowed. Sorry, guys, but beer is not considered a vegetable. We’ll leave the other foods, but if you give in to temptation, you lose.”

  I raised my hand. “Leanna, are condiments or dip okay? Like, can we put butter on our veggies?”

  “Yes, you can. Olive oil and spices can be used to cook. Salad dressing is allowed. Smoothies are fine, as long as fruit is the primary ingredient. But no meat, beans, bread, etc.

  “This is an individual challenge. If you all succeed, you all get the benefit tomorrow and enter the challenge on a level playing field.” With a wave, Leanna left. “Enjoy your breakfast, everyone!”

  Crap. I forgot to ask if coffee’s a vegetable. Coffee grows on a plant, right?

  Birdie grabbed my hand and gently tugged me off the couch. “C’mon. Let’s go see what we have for this bizarre #diet.”

  Half-awake, I followed her into the kitchen to unload the baskets. A wide variety of fruits and vegetables awaited us. We wouldn’t starve.

  Behind me, Ariana crowed about how easy this challenge would be for her. “Before I entered this house, I was completely vegan for fifteen years. It’s very easy to avoid meat and animal products if you have self-control. I won’t have any problem.”

  “Ignore her,” Birdie advised me. “She’s lying.”

  “How do you know?”

  Justin, entering the room, overheard us. “When you don’t eat meat for a long time, your body loses the ability to process it. We’ve been eating eggs, bacon, turkey, hamburger—the works—since we got here. If she hadn’t eaten any animal products for years, she’d spend half her time locked in the bathroom.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “My sister was a vegetarian in high school and college. Reintroducing meat into her diet took a long time—and it hurt.”

  Sweet juice ran down my chin on to the counter as I grabbed a tomato and bit into it like an apple. Ignoring it, I took another bite. “Does she still lose if we tell her cheese is a vegetable? You grow cheese plants in The Sims.”

  They both laughed, but I wasn’t sure I was joking. I couldn’t run back into the room five minutes later and accuse her of lying about something she hadn’t even said to me. At best I’d look petty, but more likely mentally ill.

  First she lied about being a genius, then a vegan. Would America ever see through Ariana’s stories? How much longer would we have to put up with her shit before someone called her out? Who did she have to be up against before she got eliminated?

  * * *

  “Good morning, Fish!”

  The next day, Bella gathered us into the living room to prepare us for the Week Four challenge. I was still pissed the viewers saved Ariana. I also couldn’t forgive Justin for choosing to spend time with her when we both faced elimination. Especially since Ariana used every opportunity to remind me, constantly giving me knowing looks or making snide comments no one else noticed.

  “Most of you did a great job on the midweek challenge.” She drew the next word out until it was twice its usual length. “Unfortunately, Maria, I’m sorry, but peanut butter sandwiches are not a vegetable. Neither, Ariana, is bacon, even if you eat it while hiding in the changing room.”

  I sat up straighter.

  “Everyone else, well done!” Bella said, “For this week’s elimination challenge, you’ll work in teams of three. Maria and Ariana, if your respective teams don’t win, you will automatically be up for elimination.”

  My ears perked up. Automatically?

  Can I throw the challenge if I wind up on her team? Without the viewers noticing?

  “We’ll give each team a disposable camera,” Bella said. “You’ll get a series of clues directing you to take specific pictures. Careful—these aren’t digital cameras. You won’t be able to erase pictures taken by mistake. The first team to turn in their camera with the correct pictures wins!”

  I smiled to find myself paired with Ed and Rachel. Ed and I grew closer every day. Rachel was far more tolerable now that she wasn’t batting her eyes at Joshua. I liked her about fifteen times better since “J-dawg” left.

  “Since this is a puzzle challenge, Jen, you should be team captain,” Ed said.

  A smile spread across my face. He wanted to get me immunity if our team won so I couldn’t go up against Ariana two weeks in a row. The gesture filled me with warm fuzzies.

  “I agree,” Rachel said. “You’re one of the smartest people in the house.”

  “Thanks, guys. I’ll try not to let you down.”

  Leanna walked around, handing out packets holding a set of clues, pencils, and a disposable camera. “Listen up! You can solve clues in any order. You must solve every puzzle to win. If you run out of pencils, I’ll have more for you here. If you run out of film, that’s unfortunate, because there’s no more. Ready? Go!”

  “Jen, this one is all you,” Rachel said, passing me the paper and a pencil. “Let’s find a table where you can work it out.”

  I read as we headed into the kitchen to find a table. A word search hid the first clue among twenty words hidden in a grid. The remaining letters spelled out the clue.

  “I’m on it. This shouldn’t take long. You guys look at the other clues.”

  “This one looks like a cryptogram,” Ed said, reading one of the other pages. He took a pencil from Rachel and sat. “I’m all over it.”

  Once we split up the work, it didn’t take long to figure out each of the clues. There was a squicky moment where we worried one clue was directing us to take a picture of Ariana’s pink thong, but thankfully, Rachel found her mistake before things got awkward. Instead, we snapped a shot of Abram’s green shoe.

  After we took the last photograph of the dragon statue in the front yard, Ed and I raced back to the house triumphantly. Rachel skipped beside us, waving the camera over her head.

  When we got to the living room, our smiles faded. Maria, Justin, and Mike got there before us. Bella lounged on the couch as Leanna used a portable printer to print out their photos. Mike paced, wiping sweat off his brow. I wondered how long they’d been standing there.

  A wave of disappointment hit me. I’d been so sure we won. To hide my feelings, I gazed through the window at the pool. After a moment, Ed tapped my arm.

  “Don’t give up yet,” he whispered. “Listen.”

  Behind us, Leanna spoke to the other team. “Sorry, guys, but that’s wrong.”

  My ears perked up. I started to turn, but Ed put gentle pressure on my right elbow. “Wait. . .”

  Behind me, Bella spoke. It sounded like she’d moved off the couch. “Maria, Mike, Justin, I’m sorry. The winning team is the first one back with all of the right photographs. One of your photographs is incorrect. If either of the other teams turns in the correct six photographs, that team wins.”

  Muffled cursing traveled from the other side of the room. It sounded like Mike.

  “These shoes are killing me,” Bella said. “I’m going out to the car until everyone’s done. We can shoot all the results at once. I need a smoke.”

  “But—” The sound of the front door closing cut off Leanna’s protest. “Ohhhkayy. Team Three! Stop pretending you weren’t listening and come over so I can check your pictures.”

  I held my breath while Leanna printed each shot. When the picture of the shoe printed, Mike kicked the couch, and Maria groaned. Justin swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck, but said nothing.

  “. . . Five, and six! That’s it! Congratulations, guys!”

  We won. As Team Captain, I won immunity!

  I hugged Ed and Rachel. We jumped up and down in a
circle and cheered, just as the third team entered the room with their results. The scowl on Ariana’s face made victory even sweeter.

  * * *

  Before dinner, I met Ed and Birdie for a quiet celebration. Our hushed cheers brought Justin into the room—or maybe he saw Ed gyrating with his hands over his head and wanted to make sure he wasn’t choking.

  I poured a glass of wine and grabbed a barstool. “So, Maria versus Ariana, huh? The two pretty girls face off? That should be interesting.”

  Justin glanced at me. “They’re not the only pretty girls here.” I blushed. “It’s good she didn’t do the mini-challenge. It would probably be my ass on the line if she had.”

  “Why?” Birdie stirred something on the stove. The familiar aroma of cumin drifting from the pot made my mouth water.

  “We turned in one of the wrong pictures, and it was my fault. I thought we needed a picture of Rachel’s yellow sweatshirt. No one double checked my work.”

  “I can beat that,” Birdie told him. “Ariana wasted half our film taking duck face #selfies. We’d have voted against her no matter what.”

  “You’re kidding!” I couldn’t believe she would do something so stupid when she was automatically up for elimination if her team lost.

  “Nope. Wish I were. If you were still wondering if she lied about being a genius, stop.”

  “That’s awesome! Here I wanted to ask if you threw the challenge to get her eliminated.”

  Birdie laughed. “No need. She screwed up all by herself.”

  This was the best possible outcome: I was safe for another week, and my greatest enemy in the house might be eliminated. Also, Justin thought I was pretty. What a great day.

  CHAPTER 13

  Scenes from the School Room, Week 4:

  Ariana: What? They gave us a camera! How was I supposed to know it wasn’t digital? What is this, 1992? This is just another example of how everyone else is out to get me.

  Ed: I’m glad I was teamed up with Jen and Rachel. They’re amazing. They made the challenge fun.

  Justin: Everyone in this house has a different strategy. I don’t know what Ariana’s is, but she tells these transparent lies, and it’s starting to bug me. No, you’re not a member of Mensa. You didn’t study art history. You’re not vegan. What else is she lying about? Besides, every time I try to take two seconds to talk to Jen, Ariana is in the way. So, yeah, I’m ready for her to go.

  Abram: Yes, we knew these aren’t digital cameras. Look, it says disposable on the side.

  On Monday morning, my euphoria at being immune from elimination evaporated. The bells summoned us into the living room, and Bella came in to announce the results of the vote.

  “As you know,” she began, “Ariana and Maria were named team captains because they did not complete last week’s mini-challenge.”

  Stop telling us what we know, Bella. Get to what we don’t know. Who is it?

  “Jennifer, you were the captain of the winning team, and as such, you are immune from elimination.”

  Knowing the cameras would be on me, I smiled and nodded.

  “How does it feel?”

  “It feels awesome. I’m very proud of my team. We worked well together.”

  Ed and Rachel murmured their agreement.

  “Well, then,” Bella continued, “you’ll be happy to know that the rest of your team is safe this week. Neither of them were nominated for elimination.” She wasn’t talking to me anymore, but I flashed smiles at both of them.

  So. . .Who is it?

  “The viewers have voted,” Bella announced. She must have taken lessons at increasing drama. These long pauses killed me.

  “I’m very sorry, Justin, but you are up for elimination this week.” Not caring that she’d just dropped a bomb, Bella waltzed out of the house.

  My heart sank. I poked my head over the side of the tower to where Justin sat, mouth open.

  He gave me a sheepish look and shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it. I made a mistake, and we lost. Or maybe America hates lawyers-in-training.”

  “Well, there is that. You should’ve told everyone you’re a plumber or a fireman. That might have made a difference.” My faltering smile failed to hide my concern that he might be leaving.

  “Good point,” Justin agreed, climbing down. “I’m off to the School Room, so I’ll let everyone know I lied about that law school thing.”

  About ten minutes later, I migrated into the kitchen to help Birdie with lunch. She stuck a glass of Merlot in my hand. It was early to be drinking, but I took it. Taking a deep breath, I swirled the red liquid. Immediately, I calmed. That must’ve been the effect of the floral bouquet, not the alcohol.

  “Drink. Calm. It’s okay. Justin’s not going anywhere. #Wineisgood.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I grumbled. “Have you seen the way Ariana is all over him?”

  “I’ve seen the way he talks to her just enough to be polite and seeks you out instead. Don’t give up yet.”

  Birdie picked up a knife and started chopping. As usual, she relaxed immediately. Maybe she just needed something to do with her hands now that she’d been detached from her screens.

  “Look, Ariana fucked up that challenge. She is single-handedly responsible for our loss." Birdie snorted. “Selfies with freaking #duckface, no less. She looked ridiculous.”

  “Okay, well, you and I will vote for Ariana. Sounds like Abram will vote for her, too. Ariana will vote for Maria, because she doesn’t want Justin to go home before she can figure out how to seduce him.”

  “Abram will vote for Ariana. He’s too nice to say, but he’s furious with her. #DontpissoffaMormon.”

  That made me laugh. At that moment, Ed walked in, shaking his head.

  “Ariana just showed me the pictures she took during the scavenger hunt. I guess she sweet-talked one of the producers to get them. Did your team get different clues than we did? ‘First clue: take a picture of the most self-centered person you know. Second clue: make the stupidest-looking face you can. Third clue: plank somewhere silly.’”

  I glanced at the doorway, wondering who else was out there. Keeping my voice low, I covered my microphone with one hand. “Does that mean you’re voting to send her home?”

  Immediately, the speakers crackled. “Jen? We can’t hear you.”

  That’s the whole point.

  Ed smiled at me. “Don’t worry about the mics and the cameras. It’s not like the viewers can tell the other players what we’re talking about. And I doubt the producers would.” He tilted his head toward the ceiling. “Right guys?”

  The speakers in the ceiling remained silent.

  “Besides,” Birdie chimed in. “Everyone is having the same conversation somewhere.”

  “Okay, fine.” I repositioned the microphone. “Ed, who are you voting for?”

  “Good question. What’s your strategy? Do you vote for the person who messed up the most, or do you vote for the strongest competitor? Justin made a mistake, but Ariana’s was worse. If we’re here to win, do I want to be in the finals against the hot liar or the athletic lawyer? Justin’s smart, guys.”

  Ed paced back and forth, keeping an eye on whoever sat out by the pool and casting frequent glances at the visible areas of the living room. “Or do I want to win against a school teacher who has yet to show us her personality? The other guys are likely to vote for Justin. If I want to keep him around, then I have to decide the best way to do that. Maria’s a sleeper. She could bust out at any time and do something so awesome it blows the rest of us out of the water. Do I want to see that?”

  He washed his hands and went to help Birdie at the counter.

  “And who is America more likely to save? We already know the viewers like Ariana. Do they like Justin more? Apparently not, since they put him up for elimination. It could have been about the challenge, but it also could have been personal. There’s no way to know. Do I want to risk wasting a vote on Ariana, when
I think it’s a vote for Justin? Or do I vote for Maria, knowing it’s unlikely America would save her based on what she’s shown us so far? A vote for Ariana will likely get Justin eliminated. A vote for Maria probably won’t.”

  His answer impressed me. He made some points I hadn’t considered. Maria was nice enough, but she hadn’t bonded with anyone in the house. She’d gotten along with Raj, but he was gone. She drifted from one group to the next. She didn’t participate much in group discussions. She hadn’t shown much personality to anyone, including, I guessed, the viewers.

  If everyone voted for Maria, America wouldn’t save her, unless the producers gave her an amazing edit. I didn’t see it. She flew too far under the radar. On the other hand, if we split the vote into Ariana and Justin, we’d guarantee one of them would go—probably Justin. It might be better for my head, not to mention my heart, if he left now, but I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him go.

  “But Ariana is a terrible human being!” I whined.

  “To be fair, she’s not as bad as Joshua. I’d take another week of her over him any day.”

  “That’s because she’s not trying to seduce your almost-not-quite-should-be boyfriend,” I grumbled.

  “I’d like to see her try!” Ed said. “I get that you hate her. She’s obnoxious. She’s a liar, and not a good one. She tells stupid lies that insult our intelligence. But she’s also got a fan base.”

  Who watched the show? College guys who would to save Ariana so they could keep ogling her every week? Bored housewives and tween girls who were as infatuated with Justin as me? Did America vote for Justin because they were tired of the love triangle?

  Would the producers rig the vote and eliminate Maria, to see if they could squeeze more drama out of the three of us? Would they do that?

  Of course they would. I’d quickly learned that the “reality” show business was a lot less about reality than about entertainment, manipulation, and ratings. After all, in reality, I seldom had to share a shower with a stranger to get hot water. Or eat only what random people chose for me. I also spent very little of my time at home in Seattle trying to decide who to remove from my life permanently.