Chapter Six Hell Is Sitting at the Popular Table
Chapter Six
Hell Is Sitting at the Popular Table
I make a beeline for the buffet, determined to get my strength up and shake off the weird mood that just descended on me. I could cry when I see a spread that looks like it came straight out of Food Network Magazine. The roast pig is surrounded by chafing pans filled to the brim with tender-looking brisket and fall-off-the-bone spareribs, an array of grilled vegetables and tropical salads, and bowls of fresh salsa. Sprays of hibiscus frame the table, and my god, it’s all so beautiful. Cindy likes to say I’m food-motivated, like one of those orange cats who do anything for treats, and she’s not wrong.
Everyone else has gotten their food already, but there’s enough left over for me to feast. I pile my plate full of barbecue pork, coleslaw, roasted pineapple skewers, and papaya salad. Right behind me, Chase has plopped a giant rack of ribs on his plate.
He shoots me a thumbs-up. “This is the life. We should go on reality TV all the time.”
“Uh-huh. Where should we sit?” I ask, scanning the beach. I know there are nine couples left in the competition, and three picnic tables outside the catering tent. Daniel and Selena are eating in their cabana, so that means there should be two to three couples at each table. But the other contestants seem to have ignored this perfectly logical breakdown, because four couples have crowded onto one picnic table, with the rest at the other two. I’m about to suggest we head to the closest table with room when Chase points at the already-crowded table.
“Over there! That looks like the place to be ,” he says, and breaks into a trot, his plate of ribs held high like he’s a waiter. I cast a longing glance at the emptier tables, but he’s right. It’s in our best interest to befriend the other contestants—and maybe pump them for information—and the easiest way to do that is to eat with them.
“Hey, party people! Make some room,” he says with his most charming smile.
For a split second, the other contestants look up at him, clearly trying to assess him. I’m struck by how gorgeous everyone is. Duh, this is reality TV, and we all have producers ensuring we look better than our best. But it’s one thing to know that and another thing to be faced with four hot couples right in front of me. Part of me, the part that still feels like a nerdy kid with off-brand shoes and Rite-Aid makeup, expects these supernaturally beautiful humans to laugh and pelt us with their pineapple skewers.
But I should’ve remembered that this is Chase doing the asking.
“Of course!” The closest woman slides over to make room for us, and her partner gives Chase a welcoming clap on the back. I recognize him from the beach—he’s still wearing his cowboy hat and boots.
“We were just introducing ourselves,” he says.
“Perfect timing,” Chase says. “I’m Chase, and this is my girl, Alice. She’s a math teacher.” He says that last part proudly, and I raise my hand like I’m in class.
“We’re big fans of teachers. I always say they’re doing the Lord’s work. I’m Jaxon and this gorgeous woman is my girlfriend, Brittany,” the guy says. Jaxon is tall, tanned, and seriously built. His blond hair is cut short, and his eyes are blue enough to rival the crystal-clear water we’re surrounded by.
“Hey, y’all,” Brittany says with a matching Southern drawl. “We’re just so excited to be here. We’ve never left Alabama before this trip, if you can believe it! I don’t know if it’s just that they haven’t fed us all day or this is really the best barbecue pork in the world, but it is delicious!” Brittany is rocking a red flannel shirt tied over her bikini top and jean cutoffs, and she’s got her brown hair pulled back into two pigtails.
“This food is a cut above what I was expecting, but it’s certainly no Michelin-starred establishment,” the guy next to me says as I take a seat. He’s wearing stylish dark-rimmed glasses, and he’s now wearing a loose, patterned button-down and dark-blue Bermuda shorts. I glimpse metallic red highlights in his wavy black hair.
The woman on his other side snorts out a laugh. “Tarun, the cameras aren’t rolling. Rein it in. I’m Kendall, by the way.” Kendall has her jet-black hair cut short and slicked back. She looks impossibly cool, with a dazzling constellation of piercings—I’d say sixteen in total. Dangling from her ears are two smiling avocadoes. Her shirt has loopy writing that says Live to Eat. On closer inspection, the pattern on Tarun’s shirt is actually colorful pieces of sushi.
Kendall notices me staring and waves a hand at their shirts. “Our producer, Seth, told us to really play it up,” she explains. “They don’t exactly go in for nuance on reality TV. I’m sure when they show us on screen, there’s going to be a caption that says ‘Foodies Forever’ or something.”
Chase chuckles. “I wonder what we’re supposed to be?” he says, glancing back at me.
Brains and Brawn? Math Teacher and Hot Fiancé? Hopefully not anything too bad.
“I’m not sure I want to know,” I say.
“I told Bryan we’d better be Ava and Noah, Power Couple, Forbes 30 Under 30, Successful Adventurepreneurs,” the woman across from me says. She’s still wearing her Rise and Grind T-shirt from earlier, but she’s draped her blazer over the back of her chair.
Her boyfriend—or husband or partner in business and life—Noah is tall, with gelled dark-brown hair, a white collared shirt, and black business-suit pants. He takes Ava’s hand. “I don’t think all of that will fit in the subtitle, darling, but if anyone can negotiate for more screen space, I’m sure it’s you.”
There are two other people at the table, but we don’t get around to hearing their introductions because they’re locked in a sloppy makeout session. They’re both wearing black clothes covered with more zippers, spikes, and clasps than one would expect. They have coordinated knee-high black combat boots with spiked toes and matching elbow-length gloves with the fingertips cut off. The woman’s hair is dyed bright green, and her partner has black hair with matching green highlights. They look like they’re ready either for a Mad Max–style fight to the death or to repair a bunch of postapocalyptic tanks.
“They’ve been like that since we got here,” Ava says dismissively. “I don’t even think they managed to eat yet.”
“What, sucking face doesn’t count as getting your daily essential nutrients?” Kendall cracks.
“Too bad they didn’t take first place,” Brittany says. “They’d be puttin’ that cabana to work.”
I think of Daniel and Selena in the cabana, putting it to work. Nope, no thank you. Not thinking about that. It’s so weird, seeing Daniel with someone. I don’t think he ever dated anyone seriously in high school. He always seemed, well, like me. Laser-focused on our studies and nothing else. But I’m with Chase now, so I guess we’ve both changed.
This day has been a lot. Jet-setting around the world, jumping off a boat, falling on my face in the sand on national television, and seeing Daniel Cho again after almost eight years of total no contact—it’s enough to make my head spin.
After dinner, I want nothing more than a blisteringly hot shower and a comfy bed to collapse in, but Leah has other plans for us.
“Last event for the evening before we get you to the villa,” Leah says as we follow the crew. “We need some photos of the happy couples.”
It’s just before sunset, and the ocean is shimmering with the fading sunlight. Gone are the luxurious couches and wicker side tables from earlier. They’ve been replaced with beach towels placed at regular intervals down the beach, with tiki torches flickering at each end of the row.
“This is your beach time,” Leah explains. “The light won’t last forever, so we’ll get a few promo shots of everyone lounging around, and then we can call it.”
Oh, right, our punishment for losing Limbo is an evening date on the beach. It’s not much of a punishment, but compared to Daniel and Selena’s flower-lined cabana, it’s definitely a step down.
I sink down next to Chase on the beach towel. My bikini, which has made it into my Top Ten Most Hated Outfits of All Time, immediately rides up as I sit, and I struggle to discreetly pick out my wedgie as the wind picks up, causing goose bumps to erupt along my arms.
“Can I go get my sweatshirt?” I ask Leah.
“Sorry, Alice, no time. We’re already losing the light. Besides, you’re not going to pop on screen with a sweatshirt. You’ll just look like a sack of potatoes next to, well.” She gestures at Chase, who’s all abs. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep this short. No filming, just photos.”
Between standing up to adjust my bikini and the uneven sand, when I finally try to settle down, I end up stumbling right into Chase’s lap.
“Whoa, there,” he says, setting me right. “Slow down. The race is over, babe.”
He goes to put his arm around me, but I pull back.
“About that,” I say, remembering how today’s competition went. I should be relieved that we made it, but all I can feel is the sharp edge of near failure. “Chase, if we’re going to win, we’ve got to get better at working together. What happened at Limbo can’t happen again.”
“I thought we did great!” He gazes at me, puzzled.
“We can do better,” I say firmly.
“Oh, you’re overthinking it. We’re fine.”
I can tell Chase believes what he’s saying. In his world, everything is just that simple. I’m overthinking, and everything is fine. I want to push back, but a camera flashes at us, and I remember where we are. I snap my mouth shut.
Chase fills the silence. “We’ve got this. I’m good at arm-wrestling, you’re good at math. We’ve got this on lock. It’s like destiny is sending us a million dollars. We’re gonna put your mom in the fanciest hospital on the planet!”
“That’s not exactly how hospitals work—”
“We can travel the world! We can go to that hotel where your room is sticking out of the side of a cliff!”
“I think that was a fake AI-generated photo—”
“We could get a waterbed and fill it with Jell-O!”
“Why would we—”
Before any of my concerns can make it into Chase’s head, one of the producers claps his hands—Seth, I think.
“And that’s a wrap, everyone!” he calls.
Chase pops up to follow the crowd off the beach. It takes me two tries to get my footing in the sand. It’s only then that the steady red light of a camera filming catches my eye. I swear Leah said they were only taking photos, not filming, but there’s no mistaking the eerie glow in the darkness. I shudder. I’m not sure if it’s the long day, the stress of being on camera, or the alcohol, but I don’t feel right. I feel disoriented and unsettled. And it doesn’t help to realize that a live camera has been pointed at us the whole time.
—
I follow the crowd, and soon we’re cresting over a sand dune and getting our first glimpse of the villa.
“Welcome to Villa Paradiso!” Leah says.
In beachy tones of off-white and cream, the villa stands four stories tall, with impressive fire pits, floor-to-ceiling windows showing off both the ocean view in front and the flourishing jungle toward the back, and a huge crystal-blue pool stretching out in front of it. It’s chic and modern and expensive. It looks like a summer home belonging to an A-list celebrity.
Brittany squeals. “We get to stay here ?”
“Not bad at all,” Noah says approvingly.
“Oh, party’s on tonight,” Jaxon says, sweeping Brittany off her feet and throwing her over his shoulder. She giggles as he carries her straight to the bar by the pool.
“There’s no way I can drink any more,” I whisper to Chase, but immediately, I realize I’m talking to myself—Chase is already sprinting after Jaxon.
“Shots! Shots! Shots!” he shouts.
Selena follows Chase, joining his chant and pulling Daniel with her. I join them at the bar, where an obliging bartender has set out a rainbow of shots for us.
“Trevor, wait, camera eats first!” says a woman with red hair cascading in waves down her back. She raises a Polaroid camera and is about to snap a photo of the shots. Trevor drapes an arm around her shoulder.
“Good catch, Mikayla,” he says, kissing her temple.
Whoever they are, this couple looks like they stepped straight out of a sponsored ad post. They’re a matched set, with Trevor in his pressed chambray shirt and Mikayla in a flirty denim sundress. Her makeup is dewy, with what I’m guessing are fake freckles dusting her cheeks, and her red hair is pulled back with a set of hair clips that I’ve seen advertised on TikTok.
Before Mikayla can take her photo, Dominic—still in his fratty muscle tank—blows past her, grabs one of the shots, and downs it.
“Do you mind, dude?” Trevor snaps. “We’re making content here.”
“You snooze, you lose,” Dominic says, passing a shot to Zya.
“Ugh. I can’t stand girls who live for the ’gram,” Zya says, giving Mikayla a pitying look. “It’s so pathetic.”
I can feel the fury radiating off of Mikayla. A cameraperson elbows past me to capture the moment. I edge away from the unfolding drama and bump into Chase, who hands me a pink shot glass.
We’re joined by Selena and Daniel, and soon I find myself toasting with the two of them. I’m still not sure drinking is a good idea, but when Daniel eyes me after he downs his shot, I know what I have to do. I can’t back down now.
I keep eye contact with him as I tip the shot into my mouth. The alcohol goes down smooth and tastes like strawberries and summer. I don’t break my gaze even after I plant the glass down on the bar with an audible clink and lick the last of the shot from the corner of my lip.
Daniel swallows and looks away.
Ha. I win.
“Hey, anyone up for the hot tub?” Selena asks, her hand in the air.
Daniel slings an arm around her waist. “Sure.”
“I’m in,” Chase says. “Come on, Alice!”
The four of us head over. A few other couples drift into our orbit as we slide into the hot tub part of the huge pool. The glow of the lights in the water throws ripples of ethereal blue across us. My sore muscles welcome the relief of the hot water, and I sink farther in.
“Okay, I seriously had to get away from those two,” Mikayla says, slipping in next to me. She nods over at Dominic and Zya.
“They seem to be looking for trouble,” Daniel observes. Dominic and Zya are arguing with the green-haired Mad Max couple now.
“My advice? Don’t give those clowns the time of day,” Selena says. “In my experience, it’s not worth engaging with people like that.”
“I know,” Mikayla sighs. “But they’re seriously pissing me off. I would kill for access to a meditation app right about now.”
“Girl, same,” Selena says sympathetically.
Mikayla peers at her. “Sorry to derail, but haven’t I seen you before on TV?” Mikayla asks. “You’re Selena Rivera, right? You totally rocked it in Hottie Havana. I still remember that episode when you saved Rayleighanne’s life by doing the Heimlich maneuver while blindfolded on a suspension bridge. And weren’t you on Bikini World , too?”
“No, but I was on Operation: Bikini ,” Selena says with a sunny camera-ready smile and a shrug that’s clearly meant to be self-effacing but looks adorable. Cindy and Tara’s reality TV crash course had included Operation: Bikini , but we’d skipped the season with Selena in it. Too bad, maybe I would have more intel on her if we hadn’t.
“Wow. I didn’t know we had a professional in the cast,” Brittany says. “I bet your brain doesn’t turn to cotton fuzz when the cameras are rolling, like me.”
“I wish experience in front of a camera gave me and Trev more of a leg up,” Mikayla says. “But social content just isn’t the same.”
“Oh!” Selena snaps her fingers. “I know where I’ve seen you and Trevor before! You’re Trekayla! I love you guys. Hashtag couple goals, hashtag dream boyfriend, hashtag dream girl, right?”
Trevor beams at her. “Hey, thanks for being a fan.”
“They’ve got, like, over a hundred thousand followers on Insta,” Selena says to the rest of us. “They’ve really made it. They’re living the dream.”
“That’s the idea,” Trevor says. “And if this show goes well, we can keep on living it.”
Mikayla pipes up. “I was nervous about working with Dawn Taylor since all of that drama three years ago, but she’s been great so far. Total girlboss. And can you believe Peter Dixon’s on this? I didn’t even realize this was one of his projects when we applied!”
“What’s the deal with him?” I ask. I’d read about Dawn Taylor’s somewhat contentious career online during my research, but I didn’t really look at Peter Dixon’s background since I didn’t think we’d be seeing much of him. From the little I’ve seen so far, he seems all right. He’s affable in a way that puts me in mind of how the president would behave in a kindergarten classroom. It’s obvious that he and Dawn Taylor don’t see eye to eye, but given her history, maybe that’s not unusual.
“People outside the industry might not know,” Mikayla says conspiratorially, “but Peter’s the secret sauce behind the success of Get Real Productions. He’s never produced a flop before, so this show is guaranteed to blow up—”
“More shots!” Trevor interrupts with a yell. One of the PAs is coming around with a floating tray of shot glasses.
“To winning! And a million dollars!” he cheers, and everyone takes a glass, lifts it, and shoots it. This one tastes more like paint thinner than summer, and I resolve to cut myself off.
Chase pumps his fist. “Hell yeah, they broke out the Grey Goose!”
After that, the party really gets going. Ava and Noah, the power couple, head to bed early. So do the obnoxious camo couple and the goth-meets-steampunk couple who were making out at dinner—though I have a feeling they’re going to be doing anything but sleeping. Everyone else, though, isn’t ready to turn in quite yet. I’d love to go to bed, too, but I know I need to bond with the other contestants.
As usual, Chase is the life of the party, handing out fist bumps and doing showy backflips into the pool. Selena matches him flip for flip.
I keep an eye on them, just to make sure Chase doesn’t give himself a concussion, and settle down off to the side, perching on one of the fake rocks that has been artfully sculpted into the pool to simulate a waterfall.
I wonder whose job it was to sculpt a fake rock. Did they study real rocks to get the texture just right? Or did they use a real rock to make a mold, and there’s an identical rock somewhere out in the world, living a free-range rock life? Does that make this rock some kind of rock clone?
“You look thoughtful,” a voice says, cutting through the dull roar of the party.
I look up to see Daniel offering me a drink.
“I really don’t need any more alcohol,” I tell him.
He laughs. “I know, Slayer. This is just herbal tea.”
I take a suspicious sip, but if Daniel is anything, it’s honest. It occurs to me that maybe I misread his look earlier when we were taking shots. Instead of a challenge, maybe it was a look of concern. No, that’s ridiculous. Daniel would never be concerned about me.
“Thanks,” I say through gritted teeth.
A smirk. “Did that hurt, Slayer?”
“Yes, actually,” I say. “As much as it hurts being in a ‘secret alliance’ with you.”
Daniel looks out at the party, where Selena is doing a keg stand while Chase holds her ankles, and chuckles.
“What?” I demand.
“Our partners seem to be getting along a lot better than we do, and we’re the ones who’ve known each other for—well, for far too long.”
“That’s the problem,” I say. “If I had just met you, I probably wouldn’t have anything against you.”
“Nah,” Daniel says, leaning back against the clone rocks with me. “Something tells me that no matter how we met, you’d find a reason to see me as the competition. I’ve just never been sure why . Oh, don’t give me that look. You’re glaring like I just asked to cheat off your homework.”
“I am not glaring,” I say, glaring. “And may I remind you, back when we met, you were literally my competition. And you still are. Right now.” I yawn. “Besides, you shouldn’t be taking advantage of my current state to pump me for information.”
“That’s not—” Daniel shakes his head. “You’re right, Slayer. You need sleep.”
“I can just sleep here. Anywhere can be a bed if you’re sleepy enough,” I murmur, sliding down onto my precious fake rocks.
“Hey, come on. If you pass out here, production will have a field day. Go to bed.”
“Make me!” I say, pointing a wavering finger at him.
“Uh-huh. Where’s your boyfriend?”
We squint toward the bar, just in time to see Chase toss Selena into the pool and jump in after her.
“He’s too wet to help,” I tell Daniel. My eyelids are so heavy, and I can feel myself starting to drift off. I mutter, “Good night. I’m turning into a pumpkin now.”
“Alice…” Daniel lets out an aggravated sigh. My eyes are already closed when he sweeps me up in his arms.
“No, I don’t want to go,” I grumble. “Leave me with my rocks!”
He’s warm and solid, and the fabric of his linen shirt feels so nice against my cheek. I should be balking at being this close to Daniel, at letting my sworn nemesis give me a helping hand. But all I feel is calm. It’s like I’m floating, and it’s so easy to let go and relax into his hold. As Daniel heads up the stairs, my face presses into the crook of his neck, and I catch the scent of sunscreen mingled with his cologne, a fragrance that must have pine or cedar or some other sexy tree essence in it.
Who knew my greatest rival could smell so good? is the last coherent thought I have before finally giving in to sleep.
PRODUCTION NOTES
LEAH’S COUPLES:
Blake and Bella - OUT on Limbo
Alice and Chase - Alice is a total lightweight, get her drunk. Chase acts without thinking and gets along with everyone. B.D. says he’ll never leave a bro hanging. USE THIS
Brittany and Jaxon - Southern charm, rural cowboy themed branding. Been together forever, but on totally different pages
SETH’S COUPLES:
Tarun and Kendall - Wannabe food critics. Will they starve without a 5-star restaurant on the island? Give them something under-seasoned to eat?
Naiah and Sage - Crystals and tarot, just started dating two weeks ago. Remind them that Mercury is in retrograde
Mikayla and Trevor - Insta couple #Trekayla. Trevor looks like he does the heavy lifting in the relationship. Can he carry Mikayla or will her dead weight drag him down? *A.B. *L.K. *B.D.
Zya and Dominic - Alpha Male meets Pick Me Girl. Just point him at a target and watch the fireworks go off. Easy to hate, villain edit
brYAN’S COUPLES:
Ava and Noah - Will self-destruct without email access after 24 hours. Super intense *L.G. *S.V.
Bacon and Firefly - #VanLife for the aesthetic and because no one will rent to them. Credit score is in the tank. Will do anything for a sponsorship
Selena and Daniel - Hottest interracial couple here, good for promo shots. Been together one month. Selena likes to party *S.H. *F.J.