Chapter Ten
Talia couldn’t stop thinking about last night.
She had a pretty decent memory as memories went, which helped tremendously when the drink orders got long and complicated and someone insisted on paying separately.
But it also meant she could replay last night in vivid detail.
She could remember the way the moonlight streaked creamily across Sabine’s flat, toned stomach.
She could remember how dark her blonde hair had looked splayed on that white pillow.
She could remember the angle of her hips, the slope of her breasts, the way her back had arched, and her legs had quivered.
She could remember her face, the shadow of her lashes on her cheeks when she’d closed her eyes and she could remember that tiny birthmark, no bigger than a thumbnail along Sabine’s ribs and how it had reminded Talia of a cute otter floating on its back.
And she could remember those moans, those very loud, very delicious moans.
A part of Talia wished she’d gone back to sleep, that she hadn’t entertained Sabine’s conversation, or gone and straddled her without thinking about the consequences. Consequences that would no doubt affect her game, and that million-dollar prize.
But more than that, Talia didn’t think she could sleep with Sabine and then forget all about it.
She didn’t do one-night stands. Her relationship with Rebecca had been three years long.
Before that she’d slept with a boy called Jackson when she was seventeen.
Turned out they were both gay and up to this day Talia wondered if they’d done it right.
Right after Rebecca had announced she was in love with a yoga instructor, she’d had a two-month long situationship with Ella, a fellow bartender who’d moved back to Los Angeles after the summer.
Which was why Talia needed to talk about last night.
Unfortunately, it proved to be impossible.
When they’d walked into camp this morning, Talia had expected the other contestants to be jealous.
She wasn’t na?ve; jealousy ran like electricity through a group like this.
What she hadn’t expected was Sabine acting colder than dry ice.
She was practically a walking iceberg. In fact, she was barely acknowledging Talia.
Every time Talia tried to talk to her, she scattered as if Talia were harboring some highly contagious skin disease.
“You know you have to talk to me,” she muttered softly in Sabine’s ear. They were all gathered in a semicircle around Shakira, who, a minute ago, had come jogging out of the forest, brandishing a new envelope. “You can’t ignore me forever.”
But then Sabine stepped sideways, clearly disagreeing, and swapped places with Connie.
Talia let her.
Only because Shakira had just removed a slip of parchment from the envelope and her curiosity had been diverted instantly. An envelope could mean only one thing. A challenge.
“Everyone ready?” Shakira said, a little tentatively.
“Ready,” Connie said, biting at the skin on the side of her thumb.
Shakira inhaled deeply. It was at moments like these that Talia imagined production would lean hard into the score.
“Outlast Her contestants,” she read, her voice taking on a host-like quality.
“Tonight, there will be no trials of strength, no puzzles of wit. There will only be... The Sending.” She let the words fall like leaves off trees in the fall, and Talia’s skin broke out in a million prickly goosebumps.
The Sending.
Talia smoothed her palms over her arms and, for the umpteenth time today, caught Sabine’s eye. Or at least she tried to. But just like every other time, Sabine snapped her head away as if she’d just witnessed two naked people entangled in passionate lovemaking.
“Not all will remain,” Shakira read on. “Your bonds may not protect you. Your alliances may not save you. One... perhaps more... will leave. And those who stay... will carry the weight.”
“What the hell does that even mean?” Monique asked, frowning heavily. She dropped to the sand and crossed her legs before picking up a shell to fidget with. Through observation, Talia had learned that Monique was a chronic fidgeter. “Did anyone else understand that?”
“I think that’s the point,” Charlize pointed out, looking as wistful as her silvery hair. “We’re not supposed to know what’s going to happen, but it’s obvious that someone’s going home.”
“The Sending,” Isla said, more to herself than anyone. The model was looking at her VEJA sneakers. They were no longer white but an island-stained beige. “That’s terrifying. But I guess all we can do is prepare ourselves.”
Talia agreed. Although how could she be prepared if Sabine didn’t even want to look at her? She tried catching Sabine’s eye again, but with no luck. She simply gave her another head snap in the opposite direction.
“GOOD EVENING, Outlast Her contestants,” Vivian said just as all twelve contestants stepped into a clearing surrounded by molave and iccu trees.
The sky was dark with a blanket of clouds blotting out the moon and the stars, but somehow Talia could see every detail.
Bamboo poles were driven into the soil, threaded with strings of tiny Capiz shells.
Large clay pots of dried pandan leaves, small clay pots of coconut husks, and coconut oil lamps were scattered across the earth.
The earth was flattened with leaves, and at the center of the clearing was a slightly raised patch of stone.
Vivian was standing on top of it, looking as gorgeous as always in a forest green maxi slit dress paired with cream espadrilles.
Her short, ice-blonde hair was gelled back into a wet look.
Around the stone, in a loose semicircle, were felled tree trunks that were cut so unevenly that some tilted slightly.
“Please take your seats.” Vivian’s voice glided smoothly over the clearing.
Talia sat down next to Sabine despite the silent treatment. She tried catching her eye again, but Sabine was staring straight ahead. It was beginning to drive Talia mad. She was pretty certain she wouldn’t even get Sabine’s attention if she belly danced with metallic coins around her waist.
“Talia,” Vivian said, zeroing her attention on her.
Talia’s stomach dropped. “Vivian,” she said back, forcing a smile despite her heart kicking into a frantic sprint. She could even hear the thump in her ears. A thump, she was quite sure, the microphones would catch.
“How was the reward? Did you do any self-care? Some pampering?”
Talia had managed to do a whole lot of things—including Sabine. She risked a sideways glance, but then regretted it instantly. Sabine had tensed up. And not just her shoulders, but her hands too. They were in literal fists, causing her knuckles to go completely white.
Talia didn’t blame her. She was also nervous. A tiny part of her had spent a few good minutes wondering if anyone had seen them last night or at least heard them. If they had, then surely Vivian would have been informed.
“I did,” Talia said. “I mean, we’re only three days in, but it’s amazing how quickly your body forgets what a real shower feels like.”
Amy, beside her, snorted, and Vivian laughed. Then she turned to Sabine. “How are you feeling tonight? Well rested?”
Sabine pressed her lips so tight they went white. Talia worried Sabine was going to come clean and announce she was quitting the game just to get away from her. But then she nodded stiffly and smiled. “Not as well as I had hoped. But rested nonetheless.”
Vivian looked satisfied and then stepped to the side. That was when Talia noticed a narrow wooden stand that expanded just enough to hold six cups across its polished surface. Beside the cups was a shallow basin with what looked like round stones inside.
Talia had no idea what this meant, but she didn’t like it.
Even less so when Vivian rested her hand on the stand. “Tonight is the first-ever Sending.” The clearing became very still. Even the cicadas stopped chirping. “Because you arrived in pairs, you will play in pairs, but you will not necessarily leave in pairs.”
Not leave in pairs? What the hell did that mean? A chill ran straight down Talia’s spine and right into the marrow of her bones. She shivered despite the heat. And there was a lot of heat.
What if they were the bottom pair? What if Sabine got voted off and Talia never had the chance to talk about last night? Or worse, what if Talia was going home tonight?
“One pair will be at risk. And that pair will have a choice,” Vivian explained.
“If their bond is strong enough, they can choose to leave together. They will both exit the game... or... they can choose to stay and face The Sending, where there will be another vote. That vote will decide which one of the pair goes home and which one remains in the game.”
A ripple of groans moved through the clearing. Behind her, Shakira and Amy muttered something nondescript. Connie and Charlize did the same, and before Talia knew it, there was an eruption of talk. Talk that she clearly wasn’t a part of, and neither was Sabine.
Vivian ignored the murmurs. “The pair will be vulnerable. Unable to compete in challenges. Unable to vote. They will remain in limbo until the next Sending, where they will have a chance to re-enter the game.”
The host paused and let her words sit and sink in. Then she flicked those shockingly bright eyes at Amy. “What are you basing your vote on tonight?”
Amy lifted her chin. Her neon pink windbreaker was zipped all the way up to the top. “Trust. Who I feel safe moving forward with and who I don’t,” she said.
“And have the last four days been long enough for you to find that trust?” Vivian asked.
“Yes,” Amy replied, crisp and sure. So sure, in fact, that Talia’s brain immediately hit rewind on the last four days.
How many actual words had she exchanged with Amy?
Did she even bother to find out what rugby position she played, if she’d had any injuries?
They could’ve bonded over muscle tears. Had she spoken to her enough to be called an ally?
Probably not.
Vivian nodded and focused on Taye. “Do you think alliances have already formed?”
Taye didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” she said. “You can feel it. Conversations go quiet when certain people walk up. Honestly, it’s not as subtle as I thought it would be.”
That landed like a dropped plate on Talia’s head.
Surely, if there were alliances, she’d know about them.
Surely she’d be a part of one. Which meant only one thing: Talia and Sabine were completely and utterly alone in this game.
For the first time, Talia felt genuinely worried that she’d be the first one sent home.
“Here’s how it works,” Vivian said. “Each pair will take one stone and place it in the cup of the pair you think should face The Sending.” She picked up a cup and revealed yellow paint lining the inside.
Talia finally understood that each cup represented their pair.
“You won’t be able to see who anyone else votes for, and votes remain anonymous.
” She pointed at Amy and Shakira. “You two are first.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Amy and Shakira stood up. They walked to the platform, stepped onto it, and with their backs to the rest of the group, they picked up a stone. Ten seconds passed. Maybe fifteen. Talia held her breath. Then, finally, clink.
Talia exhaled. But then it hit her. She’d shown up at The Sending with zero plan. She was completely unprepared. They both were. Not that it was her fault. She was unprepared, yes, but the reason for that was sitting beside her, ignoring her.
Next up were Isla and Taye, who had barely stepped onto the platform before they dropped a stone into one of the six cups.
Then Marloe and Lucia went. They deliberated in hushed whispers for so long that even Vivian had to tell them to hurry up.
Connie and Charlize were, as expected, efficient.
Although Talia was sure she’d seen them go for a cup that might’ve been lined with blue paint, she wasn’t sure.
Hanna and Monique were also quite efficient.
For some reason, however, Monique had seemed pissed off when they’d returned to their seats.
When it was finally their turn, Sabine stood up, and Talia followed.
Talia reached to pick up the stone, but Sabine’s hand was faster.
“Who are we voting for?” She barely got the words out before Sabine promptly dropped the stone into a cup with its inside marked pink.
Talia blinked. She was sure Hanna and Monique were the pink team.
She would’ve gone for Shakira and Amy because they seemed like the biggest threat.
“Voting has ended,” Vivian said, stepping back onto the platform just as they stepped off.
“Now we’ll count the stones. The cup with the most stones will be at risk of going home.
” She picked up the first cup and shook it lightly.
There was no sound. “Empty,” she said. Then she picked up the second cup.
It was also empty. By the time Vivian picked up the third cup, Talia was peeling back the skin on the sides of her thumb like a sadist.
This time, however, the cup rattled.
Vivian tipped it out onto the stand and announced, “Two stones for the blue team.”
Fuck! Talia’s heart dropped all the way to her toes. Then a parade of prickling goosebumps flitted down her arms, almost painfully. Beside her, Sabine remained ramrod straight. Which was infuriating, frankly. Talia was angry. Who the hell had voted for them?
“We have three cups left,” Vivian said. She picked up the next one, which, just like the first two, was empty.
Then another one, again empty. If Talia hadn’t gone full panic mechanic, she would’ve come to realize that the only logical thing was that the final cup held the rest of the stones.
Four against two. But instead, she waited, her breath shallow, until Vivian finally said, “I am sorry, Monique and Hanna, you are our bottom pair.”
Only then did Talia exhale so hard she thought she might blow herself off the stump she was sitting on. They were safe. Both of them. For now, at least.