America's Next Reality Star

by Laura Heffernan

  Huh. Perhaps we hadn’t thought things through. She pouted up at him. “You wouldn’t really do that to a damsel in distress, would you?”

  “To a damsel who caused her own distress?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ed and Ariana, both in swimsuits, sneaking through the foliage behind us. Ed raised one finger to his lips and shook his head slightly. I smiled.

  Rachel spotted them at the same moment I did. “So, Abe, are you going to leave me hanging all day?”

  Before he answered, Ed and Ariana jumped out from the bushes. Rachel lunged away, pulling on the scarf a second time. They pushed Abram from behind. Unfortunately for them, he was ready. With his free arm, Abram reached up, locking his long fingers around Ed’s wrist.

  Ed, and by extension Ariana, both tumbled into the pool with him. I laughed. Everyone splashed around me, thoroughly soaking not only me and Rachel, but also Justin, still on his raft. Then Ariana shrieked about getting her hair wet, which only made everyone laugh harder.

  * * *

  Later that night after changing into our jammies, Justin and I set up a sleeping area in the boys’ dorm, primarily to spare the hassle of navigating an extra set of narrow stairs. We were shoving two twin beds together when a flurry of movement across the room caught my eye.

  Mike and Birdie stood next to two twin beds pushed together near the far wall. Birdie had a stack of pillows and cushions on the floor in front of her. She’d taken all the cushions off the sofa in the small living room and was constructing a wall between the beds. Mike watched with a bemused expression on his face, not helping.

  “Hey, Birdie?” I called. “What on earth are you doing?”

  “I’m creating a bootie barrier. I don’t want that jerk to let any of his parts stray across the beds into me. Not even by ‘accident.’”

  Mike made a face. “Dude, seriously, I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t want to touch you. I promise. You’re not my type at all. I like ’em taller and hotter.”

  “If it’s all the same to you,” Birdie replied loftily, “I’m not taking any chances.”

  I clamped my lips together, but a soft giggle escaped at the look on Justin’s face.

  “Hey, Jen, do you think we need a bootie barrier?” he whispered.

  God no. We need no cameras, an hour alone, and a good Chianti to loosen us both up. Except that was never going to happen.

  “I’m good,” I said, testing the pillows in search of the softest ones.

  Across the room, Birdie grumbled on her side of the “booty barrier.” For her sake, I hoped we wouldn’t have to spend much more time with our partners.

  CHAPTER 15

  Scenes from the School Room, Week 5:

  Birdie and Mike: “I have nothing to say while this Neanderthal is around. #Pervert.”

  “Neanderthal? Is that a racist comment?”

  “Ummmm, no.”

  Rachel and Abram: “Cool challenge. I won’t need a stepladder all day.”

  “It’s cool. I’ve got four kids. I’m used to short people hanging on me all the time.”

  Ariana and Ed: “Wait. Mike did what? I can’t believe him!”

  “I knew Ariana was strong, but she’s stronger than I am. If anyone’s looking for me, I’ll be pretty much doing whatever she wants.”

  As soon as I woke up the next morning, I untied the scarf. Justin didn’t stir. I rubbed my wrist for a moment to get the blood flowing. Briefly, I considered asking if he wanted to join me for breakfast, but he looked so peaceful I couldn’t stand the thought of waking him. Besides, I needed to process our day.

  I showered, dressed, and ate a bowl of cereal in blissful solitude, enjoying the ability to move both of my arms any way I wanted. While I sipped my coffee, the other contestants drifted into the kitchen one at a time.

  A few minutes after everyone finished breakfast, the speakers in the corners blared music. That was our signal. Time to get fired up. I danced my way up the stairs to get ready. When the music stopped, we gathered in the living room dressed in workout clothes, ready for the elimination challenge.

  Bella greeted us. “Yesterday, you and your partner spent the day learning how to work together. Most of you did well. Good thing you practiced, because today, you’re going to need teamwork.”

  She paused, giving us the chance to look around. “For this week’s elimination challenge, there are four stations. You’ll learn what you need to do when you get there. You will be judged on each task and ranked at the end. Both members of the losing team will be eligible for elimination.

  “Oh, and one more thing. The entire challenge will be completed as a three-legged race. If at any time, one of you unties yourself from your partner, you will automatically be up for elimination.”

  What if everyone does it? Is everyone up for elimination?

  Somehow, asking seemed like a bad idea. I didn’t want to give the producers any ideas.

  From my position on the couch, I examined Justin. Any hopes he’d be excited at spending another day tied to me were dashed by the sight of him talking to Ariana quietly. For the hundredth time, I cursed myself for being a lovesick fool. Our “connection” was a ratings gag. Nothing more.

  Bella clapped her hands. “Okay! Everyone get to your first station, and we’ll get you all tied up.”

  Ed winked as we walked toward the backyard. “All tied up, huh? I like the sound of that.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Rachel retorted from behind me. “I was the Sioux City Junior Miss Hog-tying Champion in 2003.”

  “Really? That’s fascinating. Will you teach me how to do a sheet bend?”

  Rachel giggled.

  I missed her reply as one of the production assistants directed us down a path on the right side of the property, opposite the maze.

  When we got to the first station, I spotted two tables about the size of card tables, set about a football field apart. A small wooden crate sat on top of each table.

  Once my right leg was securely tied to Justin’s left, Curly Beard explained the task. “Okay, you start here. At the first table, each of you picks up an egg and a spoon. Then, you turn around and carry your eggs in the spoons to the box at the other end. If either of you drops an egg, you both go back. If you lose the other egg, too bad. You’ll be ranked based on how many eggs you get into the box in under ten minutes.”

  Justin smiled. “That doesn’t sound too difficult.”

  I nodded. I’d done this at summer camp at Lake Washington. Fifteen years ago. When we got the signal to go, Justin started for the box—and I promptly fell on my face.

  “Oops! Sorry!” He picked me up.

  I focused on brushing myself off so he wouldn’t see my blush. “It’s fine. Let’s try going slower, okay?”

  “Sure. I forgot your legs are shorter than mine.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him. “Right. Let’s go.”

  We started walking again. I fell on my face again. This was harder than it looked.

  Finally, on the third try, we made it to the first box. We each picked up a spoon and placed an egg. We turned and—

  Splat! Justin’s egg smashed to the ground. We started again. This time, we made it four steps.

  After a couple of minutes, we managed to work out a system. Finally, we got the first pair of eggs into the box. Mine broke as I slid it into the crate. I wondered if it would count, but it was too late to worry about it. We turned and raced back to the starting point. We fell. We stood and walked quickly to the starting point. That worked much better. A couple of minutes later, we had two more eggs in the box.

  When we finished the third pass, I glanced at the clock. Only two minutes left. Things weren’t looking so good. I sighed as we turned to head back to the table containing the eggs one last time.

  “Hold on a sec.,” Justin said. I stopped. “They said we have to go back and forth together, right?” I nodded. “Did they say we both have to w
alk?”

  I gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

  “I can carry you a lot faster than this, even with our legs tied together. Quick. Don’t move.”

  Without waiting for me to agree, he bent and turned, wrapping one arm around my waist. When he stood, my legs came off the ground. There was enough slack in the ties for my right leg to slide up, leaving the scarf tied around my ankle. We were still tied together, but he could move.

  Our faces were only inches apart. His pupils dilated. I knew he felt something! With just the slightest movement on my part, we’d kiss.

  “You okay?”

  “Better than okay.” I smiled down at him, silently begging him to close the gap. More than anything, I wanted that scarf to disappear so I could wrap my legs around his waist, bury my hands in his hair, and sink into him.

  The air hummed with electricity.

  “Great,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Oh, right. We still had a challenge to complete. I hope he didn’t feel my heart thumping against his shoulder.

  Justin started to move. Surprised at his strength and speed, I grabbed his shoulders and held on for dear life. Then, he jogged with me back to the first table. He set me down, we grabbed two more eggs, and he carried me back to the first box in time to deposit our last two eggs as the buzzer sounded.

  Curly Beard motioned us to the sidelines and dug through our box. He tossed out a shell and kept poking.

  After a moment, he raised his head. “Seven!”

  Without any idea what the others would score, we couldn’t know if that number was any good. Still, we high-fived and cheered as if it were the best result in the world. If we beat the others, they’d use the footage. If we lost, they’d show us looking silly.

  The second challenge took place on another large field, this one with a row of targets set up at each end. A table in the middle held bows and arrows with everyone’s assigned color. White lines divided the field into sections.

  I suddenly wished I’d spent more time playing darts in the games room. Not that I had any idea if darts skills translated to archery prowess. A production assistant I didn’t recognize approached and explained the challenge.

  “Okay, see those targets?” He pointed as he spoke. “Girls’ targets are to the right. Boys’ targets are to the left.”

  He continued, “Your targets are the second ones from the front of the field. Jen, you get green arrows, and Justin, yours are blue. You’ll walk to the table and pick up one bow and one arrow only. Then, you walk to the line and fire. One arrow at a time. Alternate targets.

  “You have six chances to hit the target three times. We’ll score the first three arrows of each color to hit. You get zero points for hitting the wrong target. You get zero points for using the wrong color arrow. Your scores will be added together. You’ve got eight minutes.”

  “By the way,” he added with a smile and a wink, “each contestant must keep at least one foot on the ground at all times.”

  Damn. No more sexy times, apparently.

  “When the light turns green, you’re off.”

  I put my left arm around Justin’s waist and adjusted his arm on my shoulder. When the light changed, we were ready. By now, we tottered along well enough.

  “Do you want to shoot first?” I asked as we hobbled toward the table.

  “Nope. Ladies first. You grab the bow; I’ll find an arrow.”

  The arrows lay scattered all over the table. As I reached for the bow, my trembling hand sent a stack tumbling to the ground. I swore under my breath.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Justin said. “We’ll dig through them later. Look, here’s a green one.”

  Back and forth we went, moving steadily if not with any grace or speed. My first arrow missed the target by about a foot.

  “Aim lower next time,” Justin suggested.

  “Thanks for the tip.” I laughed as we walked toward the table to pick up another arrow. “Here I thought the arrow soaring over the target meant I should shoot to the left.”

  He made a face but didn’t respond.

  The first blue arrow sailed into the middle of the bull’s-eye. “Nice shot!”

  Justin smiled. “I played on the archery team in high school. Taught archery to middle school kids.”

  Wow. My hot lawyer had a sensitive side. I apologized for laughing at his advice earlier.

  “Here. Let me show you.”

  He moved closer, adjusting the bow in my hands. My body wanted to sag against his muscular frame, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. When his hand brushed mine, I inhaled sharply. Justin’s eyes met mine questioningly.

  “Sorry. That tickled,” I said.

  He looked skeptical, but the clock ticked down behind us. He helped me set the bow against the string and explained what to do. As long as I blocked out the shivers that went through me when his voice caressed my ear, I’d be fine.

  How could this much chemistry be an act? Was it all in my head? Did he truly not feel the same things I did?

  With Justin’s help, my second shot still missed the target, but it was much closer. His second shot landed about a millimeter from the first. When his second arrow thudded into the target, I let out a breath. Maybe his skill would make up for my lack thereof.

  Finally, my third green arrow hit the second ring of the target. It wasn’t perfect, but at least my score wouldn’t be zero. Justin’s third arrow somehow landed between the first two, although I couldn’t see how.

  “Take your time, aim steadily, take a deep breath, and let it fly. We have plenty of time to do this. There’s no need to rush. You can do it.”

  The ticking clock behind me suggested otherwise, but Justin’s words calmed me. Even if it were all for show, knowing he believed in me helped. Not having his arms around me for this third shot allowed me to focus. I breathed in deeply, focused on the target, and set the arrow. I dragged the bowstring back to my right ear. Then, I exhaled and released the string. It worked!

  The arrow still wasn’t anywhere near the bull’s-eye, but it was on the target, and closer than the last one. My fifth shot flew wide and to the right. I took a deep breath to focus my final shot. I pulled the bowstring back, sighted on the middle of the target, and let the arrow fly as I exhaled. My final green arrow flew through the air and landed on the edge of the bull’s-eye.

  I did it!

  * * *

  When we approached the third station, angry voices drifted across the field toward us. Birdie and Mike. If this week was about cooperation, one of them might be going home. It was selfish, but I hoped it would be Mike. Birdie and I grew closer every day. Plus, she didn’t grab people’s asses without permission.

  Justin and I rounded a corner, and a burst of laughter escaped me when we got to our third station.

  On one of the outside walls of the maze, someone had hung a giant picture of a donkey without a tail.

  “Oh, that’s awesome!” I said. “It’s Pin the Tail on the Donkey!”

  “Ready?” The production assistant I thought of as Overalls asked. We nodded. “Okay!” She slipped a blindfold over Justin’s eyes, then mine. “Can you see anything?”

  I craned my neck, but got only the barest suggestion of light. No grass, no sky, nothing. I couldn’t see at all, but I smelled Justin’s deodorant, the detergent we all used. Beneath that, I caught a whiff of the unique scent of him. I swallowed hard. This challenge was going to kill me.

  “Jen? All good?” Overalls asked.

  “I can’t see a thing.”

  “Great. I’m going to spin you around now. One, two, three.” While she spoke, someone grabbed my hand and pulled me in a circle. I couldn’t be sure they only spun us three times.

  What I did know was that, at the moment we were released, I tripped over one of Justin’s feet. We went down. We stood. And went down again. Our limbs tangled, parts of him touching parts of me in a way that took m
y breath away. Not being able to see him only made the sensations stronger.

  “You okay?” Justin asked.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. Let’s get up. Do you have the tail?”

  “Yup. No idea where the maze is, though, or the poster.”

  We struggled to our feet. “Hold on a sec.” I licked one finger and held it up. I have never understood what that was supposed to do. Not surprisingly, it told me nothing. I lifted my face to the sun’s warmth.

  “Any ideas?” Justin asked. “We have to move before they push us.”

  “The sun is on the left side of my face,” I told him. “The maze is on the south side of the property, I think. And it’s late morning. So, left should be east, which means if we go that way. . .”

  “Are you pointing?”

  Right. He couldn’t see me. “Oops. Sorry. Let’s try walking straight. Put your arms out and let me know when you feel the maze.”

  We walked forward tentatively. After about a dozen steps, Justin stopped. “I’ve got it. Good call.”

  One more small step, and I touched paper. My hand moved left on to the scratchy wall of the maze. “Here’s the edge.”

  “Great! Where does the tail go?”

  “Not a clue!” I stated with certainty.

  “Well, I appreciate your enthusiasm. Hold on. The tail was just above my eye level. You’re at the edge of the poster, so. . .let’s. . .try. . .THERE!” Paper crackled, and something pulled me backward.

  We stumbled back a few more steps, me almost hoping we’d fall down again. When Justin stopped, I removed my blindfold.

  “Well, we got the tail on the paper.” I laughed.

  The tail hung in the white area of the poster, about ten inches above the drawing and four or five inches to the left. Nowhere near the donkey.

  Justin removed his blindfold as well and shrugged. “Whatever. It’s the best I’ve ever done at this game. There’s still one more challenge.”