Chapter 26
DOES THE DUDE-brO HANDSHAKE REALLY NEED A SPECIAL VARIANT?
DEAN
The nurse kicks me out of the infirmary for elimination, dashing my hopes of hiding out there with the excuse of a stomachache.
I crunch on chalky Tums, dragging my feet to the bonfire circle where everyone else is already sitting.
The only available seat is on the side opposite Seyoon.
I’m too cowardly to glance in her direction, afraid I’ll be met with that look of scorn that’s still burned on my retinas.
The stand-up stage lights they’ve erected around the crackling fire are so bright, they almost make me forget it’s nighttime.
Garrett stands with his back to them, his silhouette lit like some dramatic hero.
He catches me looking his way. Any of the candid sincerity he lent me back in the confession booth—if it was real at all—is tucked neatly behind his flashy TV smile now.
Welcome to our third elimination of the season—and our first double elimination.
Campers, before we dive in, let’s debrief.
Unfortunately, not everybody was able to find their doll—treasure.
Vendredi, along with Beck and Adin, you struggled to snag a Special-Edition Limited-Run Garrett Moxley Funko Pop. What happened?
Vendredi purses her lips, not happy about being called out.
“There was a lot of ground to cover and not enough time. Looking back on it, Beck and I should have divided and conquered, but we stuck together for our search.” She rubs her arm.
“Plus, I haven’t seen my mom’s season in forever.
I wasn’t sure what location might be significant. ”
There’s a pregnant pause. I wonder why Garrett doesn’t continue, until I notice it’s because multiple cameras are angled toward Carter, waiting for another snarky soundbite. For once, he exhibits good self-preservation instincts and keeps his mouth shut.
There you have it. For those of you who did retrieve a figurine, you’ve earned ten points.
As long as they were from different locations.
Meaning, Seyoon and Dean, even though you each collected a Funko Pop, it’s only ten points between you.
But don’t forget—our two alliances get their bonus points, too.
“But they broke up,” Siddharth points out. “We all heard it. Should they still get the alliance bonus?”
My blood runs cold. Garrett glances backward at Blake. She gestures him over, whispers something in his ear, and he nods.
Because they completed the challenge together and only ended their alliance afterward, they’ll still earn the bonus this time. However, moving forward, they won’t. Satisfied? Then, let’s reveal the new standings.
No more bonus points moving forward. Because we’re not together anymore. Right.
I turn my attention to the leaderboard while ignoring the dull pang in my chest.
1ST
CARTER MOXLEY
39 PTS
2ND
DEAN PARKER
29.5 PTS
3RD
SIDDHARTH PATEL
26 PTS
4TH
SEYOON SHIN
23.5 PTS
5TH
VENDREDI TENGKU
20 PTS
6TH
BECK MCLAUGHLIN
17 PTS
7TH
ADIN ZAVARY
14 PTS
I’ve somehow managed to hold on to second place for the third challenge in a row.
Pride sparks momentarily in me when I think of how happy Dad will be to see.
But more importantly, Seyoon’s still safe too, despite us each only earning six and a half points.
Even after everything, the knot of tension in me releases to see that she’s okay. She made the cut.
And then I hear sniffling.
Beck is wrapped in Vendredi’s arms while Seyoon holds them both in a group hug. Siddharth isn’t celebrating his new spot in third place either, not with Adin now in the bottom two. I wince. I was so absorbed in the fact that Seyoon and I made it, I forgot two others would be going home.
Adin grabs a shamefaced Siddharth by his shoulders and jostles him hard enough that his perfectly styled hair falls over his face.
“Sidd, listen to me. Are you listening?” Adin asks, dead serious.
“Don’t feel bad, because you’re going to win.
Hey—” He turns to one of the nearby cameras now, beckoning them over.
The camera operator looks around, then awkwardly creeps forward, practically mushing the front of the camera against their faces.
Adin turns his face to a three-fourth angle and thumps his fist to his chest. “You’re going to win,” he repeats dramatically.
Siddharth blinks, now more confused than upset. His shirt collar is stretching thin under Adin’s grasp. “You know what?” he eventually says. “Hell yeah.”
“Hell yeah!”
“For you, Adin!”
“For me!”
They go in for what I assume is going to be one of those dude-bro handshakes, but they instead opt for the popular variant: the dude-bro-handshake-turned-back-thumping-hug.
A classic among its specimens, one I have not personally mastered myself.
The hug lingers for a while though—okay, a long while.
I’m going to avert my eyes and give them some privacy.
Beck and Adin say their goodbyes, are handed their bags, and head off for their exit interviews.
Just like that, two more gone. The cabin will be so quiet without Adin’s rambunctious laughter or Beck’s quick, excited murmurs to Vendredi.
Or without Seyoon’s nonstop chatter from the bunk below.
I have a feeling I won’t hear it tonight. I miss it already.
I muster enough courage to glance in her direction. Her eyes are red, splotchy from saying goodbye to Beck and comforting a much more upset Vendredi. The dull edge of regret nudges its way inside me, slipping under my rib.
CONFESSION TAPE—Adin Zavary, Contestant
How does it feel to be booted off the show? It sucks, thanks for asking.
Ha, nah, it’s okay, I’ll be alright. I still get, like, partial bragging rights for seventh place. I’m sure it’ll be enough to get me elected as student body prez next year. Wrestling captain though? No, I’d probably have to get at least sixth for that.
I’m rooting for Siddharth, now! You better win!
CONFESSION TAPE—Beck McLaughlin, Contestant
I’m disappointed I wasn’t able to redeem my loss on Phantom Pursuers through this show, but it’s okay. I ended up having a lot of fun and making some great friends. More importantly, though, while we were out in the woods for the last challenge, I found this.
[The camera zooms in on the tuft of matted brown fur in her hands.]
Based on the texture and color, I’m almost positive this is a sample of Bigfoot’s hair. I didn’t want to say anything to the others about it at the time because I know Siddharth has cryptozoophobia. Although this distracted me from the challenge, it was worth it.
Blake finds me definitely-not-wallowing on the porch the next morning. Today’s another B-roll film session, unfortunately. Now more than ever, I wish I were anywhere but here. I’d even take bailing Meredith out from another bad date over this.
“Morning, Dean,” Blake says, as sunny as ever. “Cheer up, champ, your day’s about to get a lot better.”
“Why?”
She climbs up the steps and leans against the railing. “Because your girlfriend wants to apologize. Isn’t that sweet? Excuse my reach, sweetie,” she says, manicured fingers reaching for the clip-on mic attached to the back of my shirt collar. I hear a click that I think means she turned it off.
“Am I in trouble?” I blurt.
She chuckles. “Trouble? You’re darling. Viewers will eat you up.
Listen, Dean. You and Seyoon have some damage control to do after your fight yesterday.
This romance of yours only benefits you if your competition thinks you two are solid, right?
But now everyone knows you’re on the rocks.
A public break-up requires a public reconciliation.
That is—” One of her thin, plucked brows arches high.
“If you still want to work with her. Because she wants to work with you.”
“She does?” My heart thuds heavily. “I mean, yeah, so do I.”
“Of course you do. Come on, then, let’s go.”
I scramble to my feet and hurry to follow her down the porch and through the clearing.
Vendredi, Siddharth, and Carter are being directed around by a modest film crew.
I wonder where all the other cameras are, then immediately get my answer when Blake guides me to the space between the Crew’s Cabin and Garrett’s cabin.
It’s a cozy alcove and might even be a private place for a conversation like this, if it weren’t for all the crew members, Garrett, and the other campers still within eyeshot. Five cameras surround Seyoon, who looks stiff and uncomfortable against the wall.
Blake fixes my hair and straightens out my shirt.
“I’ve already debriefed Seyoon,” she says under her breath for only me to hear.
“She’s ready to play her part. I trust you will too.
” Finally, she switches my mic back on and flashes me a dazzling smile.
“Don’t feel awkward. Pretend like we aren’t here. ”
Wow. Why haven’t I thought of doing that earlier?
I take a deep breath and turn around. Seyoon’s watching me. There’s a layer of ice over her face that nips at my skin when I drag my feet over and lean on the wall next to her. It takes all my concentration not to let my eyes flicker to one of the many stage lights and cameras mere feet away.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.”
There’s a stilted exhaustion to her tone that I don’t think I would have picked up on when I first met her. But I know her too well by now to miss it.
“I… I’m glad we both survived elimination yesterday,” I begin, figuring it’s as good of a place to start as any. “I was worried about you.”
The side of Seyoon’s cheek puckers as she chews on it.
It catches my attention, as it always does, and she stops as soon as she notices.
Her words are deliberate and precise. “I know you were. I know that’s why you sided with Carter in the challenge.
You were… only trying to look out for me and make sure we both made it to the next challenge. ”
I blink, surprised. “Yeah. Yeah, exactly.”
Seyoon folds her arms over her stomach. Her gaze is fixed just below my eyes. She inhales deeply through her nose. “I’m sorry I blew up on you.”
“I’m sorry too. I said some things in the heat of the moment that I regret. I…”
The lights are so bright. All three of the other contestants have ditched whatever they were doing to not-so-subtly eavesdrop. Seyoon’s standing close enough that I could touch her if I wanted—which I do—and yet she feels completely out of reach.
This isn’t right. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
There’s so much I want to say to her, to make up for, but I can’t find the words to, not when every eye in this clearing is trained on me.
Every gaze except the one I so desperately need to feel again.
The fibers of my muscles strain under the tension of how badly I need Seyoon to look at me the way she used to.
I’d give anything to hear her spout off another dozen horrible, cheesy pet names just to get under my skin.
Or her laugh, the one with the snorts and wheezes.
I can’t stand her strained formality. I can’t stand her being disappointed with me.
She’s more than a teammate to me—and isn’t this just the worst time to admit that?
I should have said this to her sooner. She’s someone I admire, I respect. She’s my friend.
I want my friend back.
But right now, with the world watching, all I can choke out is another flimsy, inadequate, “I’m sorry, Seyoon,” and I hate myself for it.
My brain whirs like a computer running too hot, so without thinking, I reach out tentatively for her hand. She lets me hold it. The pads of my fingers draw lines across the scabs still healing on her palms.
Seyoon smiles at me, but it’s insincere. There’s no sun. “Me too. I know I said I wanted to end things but… will you…”
I spare her from having to finish. “Yes.” I squeeze her hand. “Partners.”
Pressure mounts in the cavity of my chest underneath all the words I swallowed down. It festers. Burning, aching. Spit it out, Dean. Speak.
Somebody clears their throat. Both of our heads whip around. It’s Blake.
“A kiss would seal the deal,” she suggests quietly.
Seyoon’s face reddens like a tomato. My heart trips over itself.
“Um,” she says, tone rising. “That’s—”
“Maybe not… now. Or here,” I answer.
Blake holds her hands up in surrender and slinks back to the line of cameras and assistants.
Garrett’s among them, an unusually contemplative expression on his features.
Our talk from yesterday trickles back into my memory.
One thing in particular that he said sticks to me like a burr digging into my skin.
I wish I had made things right after.
Maybe it’s not too late for me to.