Chapter 51
CHAPTER 51
AIDEN
“Then tell me about it. Tell me your version of it. That’s the only one I’m interested in.” I want to hold her. But she’s wrapped her arms over her chest like she’s trying to keep herself together. “In your own words.”
“I can’t… if we’re doing this…” She fills her water glass back up and walks past me to the living room and the large couches within.
I sit down next to her. “There’s no rush,” I say. “I’m here.”
She pulls her knees up and circles her arms around them. “I had just graduated from high school when I saw the ad online. A friend sent it to me, actually. I’d already gotten into college, but I was so… excited about life, you know? Finally getting out of my hometown. I had never really traveled further than the Midwestern states. So my friend and I decided to apply together.”
There’s an odd strain to her voice. Like it might break at any moment. “It was going to be shot in Mexico, at a beach resort. It was going to involve games. Games. But that’s how they sold The Gamble . A show with lots of young people, focused on team-building, with challenges to compete in order to make it through each episode.”
Something sinks in my chest. It’s painfully easy to imagine a casting call that does just that. Letting all the superfluous details slip between the lines, counting on most people getting the drift on their own.
“No mention of dating, then.”
“Some,” she admits. “But I was eighteen, about to turn nineteen. Why not a few dating elements? That sounded fun. It didn’t seem like that was the… entire premise.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” she warns me. “Don’t start apologizing or saying that you feel sorry for me, or I won’t make it through the whole story. And you said you wanted to know, and I want you to hear it from me, and not… not… off the internet.”
“I’ll hear it from you,” I say. There’s a heaviness to the air, and I know without needing to consider it that this is a make-it-or-break-it moment. How I react to this is going to dictate everything between us going forward.
She curves inward, and it hurts like fucking hell to see her like this. To sit here and not close the distance between us.
“So my friend and I applied on a whim. At the time, I was also looking at volunteering overseas or becoming a camp counselor. Anything I could think of. I was just hungry, you know? For adventure.
“And then… I got the call. So I went in for an interview. I realize now that I gave all the wrong answers to make the producers think I was right for it.” She sighs. “They saw someone naive, excited, young. Someone idealistic and easily manipulated. Of course they cast me. I fit into one of the… predetermined narratives.
“My friend got called in for the interview, too, but she didn’t end up going to it. It was just me. And I got offered the spot.
“So, I deferred college for a year. I packed my bags with cute new bikinis. Bleached my hair to make sure it was up to the task. And then I left for Mexico.” She hides her face behind her hands. “I look back on it now, and know just how stupid I was.
“I showed up and tried to make friends with the other girls. Shared way too much about myself, took the first challenge way too seriously. And… and… there was a guy there, who said all the right things.”
I don’t move a muscle. I don’t frown, don’t groan. And yet, I suspect what’s coming, and can feel the adrenaline starting to pump.
“It was a dating show.” She puts her hands down. “I realized that, even as naive and thick as I was. And he, well… he made it seem like that part was easy.
“We would stick together throughout the entire show. In between the shoots, in those rare moments when we didn’t have the cameras around, he told me that we’d date after the show, too. That he couldn’t wait to meet my parents, and we could live together out in LA.”
“He didn’t mean a word he said,” I say slowly.
“No. Of course he didn’t. But that’s the thing, right? I didn’t get to see all the things the viewers saw. I just saw… him, right? And he was this gorgeous, twenty-four-year-old Brit, saying all these wonderful things.” There’s an edge of bitterness in her voice. “He started calling me… God, I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this…”
I can’t hold back any longer. I reach across and fit my hands to her waist. “Come here.”
She lets me pull her beside me. I remember hearing somewhere that talking about hard things is easier side-by-side than face-to-face. So I settle her against my side, my arm around her.
Charlotte rests her head against my shoulder. “Thanks,” she says. “I didn’t think this would be so hard to talk about. It was years ago.”
I stroke up and down her back. “Why wouldn’t it be? Time doesn’t heal all wounds.”
“I’ve been avoiding it, too.” She leans her forehead against my chest and takes a deep breath. “Fine. All right. He started calling me Sugar Puff.”
“Sugar Puff?”
She groans a little. “Yes. And I will kill you if you ever call me that, just for your information.”
“I won’t. I prefer Chaos. Or sweetheart.”
“At the time, I thought it was cute. He told me that it was this fun, common endearment in England. It’s some kind of cereal, or was, at least. Puffed rice.”
I frown. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. But I was young, and I thought it was… I thought I was in love. We sailed through the first few challenges on the show. I saw the others getting into drama, and how some of the girls were looking at Blake, but I thought we were golden. We were in love.”
I press my lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t know what’s going to come.”
“No. But I think I could guess.”
“There was a producer on set.” Charlotte lies back, her head resting right next to mine. She looks straight up at the ceiling. “There were many, but there was one who was assigned to me. You know, to help… massage my storyline. But really, to influence me.”
I run a hand over my face. “Fuck. Was it Jeff?”
“It was,” she says. “Production knows everything, you know. They know what all the cast is saying—but we don’t. I didn’t. He asked me all these questions in the confessionals. Got me to say these silly little fantasies on camera, about how Blake and I wanted to get married one day.”
I close my eyes. “I’m sure they did.”
“I was a virgin when I went on the show.” Her voice wavers, just a little. But she keeps going with the force I’ve come to expect from her, and my hands clench into tight fists. “I was in love with Blake, of course. Or I thought I was. Now, I think I was just… blinded. Like someone who looked at the sun. Dazzled.”
“Charlotte,” I murmur.
She shakes her head a little. “I have to keep going. Or I won’t… The cameras were always rolling. We were promised that nothing would be salacious.”
I grit my teeth. The Gamble is known for being deeply salacious. In the seasons since Charlotte was on, it’s built a reputation for being just that.
Sure. It’s never porn. But it’s hints of sex, the sounds of it, movements under covers or behind opaque shower doors.
“We had to share beds, right? You know the premise. One night, he… went down on me.”
I turn to look at her. She smiles faintly, but it doesn’t look happy. “Yeah. That. Everyone spoke about it the next day, but not in front of me. I saw it later when I watched the aired episodes. And the next night, we had sex.”
I feel myself going rigid. Every muscle in my body coils, entirely without my control. “Fucking Blake.”
“I was into it,” she says, and her voice is almost thoughtful. Almost. If the undercurrent of shame wasn’t there, too. “I thought I was in love, and experiencing this wonderful thing… Of course, it was under the covers, but all of it was filmed.”
A coldness sweeps through me. “They didn’t air it.”
“Of course they did. Not all of it. But enough.” She looks up at the ceiling, her jaw clenched. “I don’t think I’ll ever live down that shame. Of knowing that my parents, my friends, people I went to high school with, teachers, and parents of friends…”
“I’m so sorry.”
She closes her eyes. “The production team assured me that things would be cut. But they didn’t put it on paper, of course. And I wasn’t knowledgeable enough about the contracts to realize what I’d signed. They told me this would be fun and wholesome, but the whole time alcohol was flowing. I was nineteen, but we were in Mexico, you know? And Blake made it seem so fun. I got swept up in the whole thing.”
“Fuck. Nothing about that is okay.”
She sits up and looks away from me, to the large windows overlooking the yard. “Oh, we haven’t even gotten to the worst part, yet.”