Chapter 9 Bennett
BENNETT
In a flurry of activity, Rosie had us situated in front of an open window, bright sunlight streaming in behind us so our faces looked shadowed for the camera. We were logged in and waiting for the host to join.
Rosie stood back to take us in, her brows drawn together in deep thought. “You’re bigger than Greg. I guess there’s nothing we can do about that at this point. Or no, Charlie, you can sit on a pillow so he’s not much taller than you.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Charlie said to me while Rosie ran to my bedroom. Her brows were drawn low over her long-lashed eyes, full of concern.
I shrugged. “I don’t mind.” In fact, it might be kind of fun. Become a parody of Greg. Discover the soul of Greg. The arrogant, selfish, never-take accountability essence of Greg.
“Why are you frowning, then?”
Because just the thought of becoming like Greg sent a slimy shiver down my spine. I’d have to emphasize the good parts. The parts that appealed to Charlie. I was drawing a huge blank.
“Tell me something good about Greg,” I said as Rosie raced back into the room with my pillow. Before Charlie could stand fully, Rosie was already stuffing a pillow under her backside. Charlie lost her balance and tumbled into me. I grabbed her arms as she face-planted into my chest.
“Ugh,” she groaned, the sound a warm, muffled rumble against my shirt that sent a warmer, hard-to-ignore rumble through my stomach.
I was just hungry. Very, very hungry.
For food.
“Sheesh, Rosie. Couldn’t wait a second?” Charlie said against my chest.
“No time to waste,” Rosie said, out of breath. “But this is good. You should snuggle like this during the video call.”
Charlie giggled nervously as she attempted to pull herself away from me and sit on the pillow. “He’s really focused and driven to succeed.”
“What?” I took her arms and helped her sit up straighter, breathing in the familiar sea-and-coconut scent of her hair.
“Some of Greg’s good qualities.” She blinked at me, and I struggled to lock away my urge to lean close and smell her again.
I tugged on the ends of her hair playfully instead, reverting back to annoying older brother tactics. “Still using Jo Bro Co shampoo?”
Her face turned a deep red. Jo Bro Co was what I’d called the short-lived Jonas Brothers’ branded coconut shampoo she’d been obsessed with the summer she turned eighteen.
It had a picture of the three brothers on the label, which was probably all they had to do with the company.
But Charlie had been convinced there was a chance they’d lovingly hand-poured every bottle.
I’d taken her and Rosie in my boat to Ketchikan, where she’d bought every single bottle they had.
“This is the problem with knowing someone for so long. They know all the embarrassing details of your life,” she muttered.
I grinned, and she elbowed me in the ribs, but I could tell she was fighting a smile.
“It’s a different coconut shampoo, thank you very much.” She whipped her hair behind her shoulders. “Now it’s hand-poured by Harry Styles.”
I laughed in the kind of way I hadn’t in a long time. Before life got so gray and happiness so elusive. Charlie’s smile softened, and my stomach rumbled again as she stared at me. I’d had a decent-sized lunch, so all this rumbling was really unnecessary.
“Hello!” a tinny voice said. “Charlotte and Greg, nice to meet you.”
We whipped toward the laptop propped up on several books and saw a woman in a navy suit observing us through the screen.
She appeared to be in her forties, and despite her wide smile, I would bet all the gas money I’d spent on boating to Ketchikan for Charlie’s Jo Bro Co collection that this woman was ruthless.
Rosie watched us with the same expression the wolf must have had before it tried to huff and puff all those houses down.
“Is the connection okay?” the woman asked. “Can you hear me?”
Rosie jumped up and down behind the screen, and I realized we were both completely frozen with nerves. Say something! Rosie mouthed.
“Hi,” Charlie squeaked. “Yes, we can hear you. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. I know we’ve spoken via email, but it’s great to put a face with some names.
I’m Savannah Corrin, one of the casting directors for the Wild series.
” She shuffled a few things around on the desk in front of her and turned on a tablet.
“I’d love to start with our expectations if you’re asked to come on the show, and then I have some questions for you, and we can go from there. ”
I nodded and cleared my throat obnoxiously, the way Greg did when he was about to say something he wanted us to think was really important but actually had zero substance. “We’re excited to almost die in the wild.” Why was I pitching my voice lower? Greg’s voice was not lower than mine.
Rosie looked like she was going to choke, her face turned so red with alarm.
Now Savannah was clearing her throat. “Well, we haven’t had a death yet!” she said with forced lightness.
Crap. I was a terrible actor. I tapped the top of Charlie’s hand in apology.
Charlie’s smile was unnaturally bright. “Oh, we know. We’re huge fans. Like super fans. Not stalker fans, though, or anything like that.” Her nervous laugh sounded exactly like a stalker fan’s laugh might sound.
Rosie raced from the room, abandoning us. If Rosie was jumping ship, we were definitely going down.
“Well, then.” Savannah’s glance cut to the side, and I imagined her looking at a clock on the wall, wondering how long she’d need to be on this call with us before she dashed all of Charlie’s hopes and dreams. “If by some chance you’re picked, we’ll fly you to Canada, and you will be here for eight weeks.
If you are rescued or you decide to leave the game, you will still need to remain at camp headquarters until the last couple wins.
It’s good that you’re fans of the show. That means you’ll have some familiarity with how it works. ”
Rosie slid back into the room, nearly taking out my bookcase in her haste. She had a tablet in her hands and turned it to face us. On the screen, she’d typed: PUT YOUR ARM AROUND HER.
Charlie squinted at it and went to put her arm around me at the same time I moved to do the same. We both continued the action, and our arms were around each other’s shoulders like buddies at the end of a baseball game, congratulating each other on a good win.
Rosie ran a hand down her face in a clear: I’m working with boneheads expression. With a glare at Charlie, she pointed at the message a few times. She deleted it and typed: PLAY WITH HIS HAIR FOR A SEC, THEN PUT YOUR HAND BACK IN YOUR LAP
Charlie’s arm glided against mine as she brought her hand up to the back of my head and scratched her nails into the nape of my neck.
I caught my breath at the touch. Forget rumbles.
My stomach was a full-on fireworks finale on New Year’s Eve.
She twisted her fingers in the ends of my hair right beneath the brim of my hat.
All three women looked at me expectantly, and I realized I must have been asked a question. “Can you repeat that?” I said in that stupid low voice again.
Savannah’s smile seemed a little less sweet. “Why do you want to be on the show?”
Oh. Why would Greg want to be on the show?
Channel your inner smarm, Ben. “Well, first of all, thank you so much for considering us, Savannah. We are deeply honor—” My words gargled to a stop when Charlie’s fingernails skimmed against my neck, and an electrical shock zinged through my veins, short-circuiting all intelligent thought.
Rosie waved the tablet in the air. TO TEST MY SKILLS …
“Is our connection still good?” Savannah asked.
“Oh, good!” I said, trying to sound relieved. “We lost you for a moment.” Mentally, anyway, even though my internet was still holding strong.
Charlie’s laugh sounded forced. “That’s Alaska for you.”
Focus, Ben. I needed a date, real bad, if I was reacting like this to a simple touch from my little sister’s best friend. “I’m excited for the chance to test my skills, and to show off to my new bride—and the world—that I’m the best.”
“Okay,” Savannah said, and I forced myself not to cringe. Greg would totally have said something like that, and not only owned it, but believed it. Even if his survival skills were subpar at best. “And you, Charlotte?”
Charlie clasped her fingers together. Longing emanated off of her. She really wanted this. “I’ve always loved the Wild series, and going on the show would help my mom with the medical bills that piled up after my dad got sick and from her accident last winter.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Savannah said, but a smile curled up at the corner of her mouth, as if she was actually glad to hear it.
I squeezed Charlie’s shoulder. Her mom’s well-being weighed heavily on her.
Savannah continued, “It’s a compelling story that viewers will connect to.
Very timely. What unique experiences do you bring to the table?
” she asked Charlie, taking notes as Charlie explained her botany degree, and how that translated into knowing what plants could be edible, medicinal, and useful for daily life.
Her great respect for nature was evident, and her face lit up with excitement as she talked about the outings her dad used to take her on before he died.
My dad also used to take us backpacking to teach us how to hunt and mine the land for riches. It lingered now as a bittersweet memory, especially when I recalled our very last outing. The one that changed everything.
“He taught me to love the land, and through it, how to love myself.” Charlie’s smile dimmed, and I looked to Rosie for some indication of what I should do next, but Rosie was watching Charlie like her heart was hurting for her.
I tugged Charlie close and gave her a side hug. “I wish I could’ve met him.”
“Yeah. Me too. He would’ve loved you.”
“As much as your grandma?”