Chapter 32
MAN, FAMILY REUNIONS SUCK
DEAN
The long, bumpy drive to set is never exactly fun, but it’s made so much worse when I’m being interrogated the whole time.
“Come on,” Dad says with a lilt to his voice I already don’t like. “Tell me more about your guys’ alliance.”
I glance around the crowded bus pointedly and tap my mic. They’ve strapped our parents up with their own before we boarded, too. “Can’t right now. It’s not a good idea to talk strategy so openly.”
Dad’s whole face lights up. “Smart. Attaboy.” He leans in and whispers, although it’s unlikely anyone can hear us over the rumble of the road and all the overlapping conversations. “But give me something. Come on, I’m dying here.”
Knowing Dad, he’s not going to quit prying until I give him what he wants.
But I’d rather jump out of the emergency exit right now than tell Dad about our little showmance.
Actually, I don’t know which would be more mortifying: that, or letting him think we’re really together.
Oh Christ, he’d definitely do something embarrassing if he thought that, like ask Seyoon what she sees in me.
Or worse, give us both The Talk. It’s not below him. I know he would.
Maybe I should tell him the truth. But how, without anyone else figuring out what we’re talking about? I consider the safest way to convey at least a nugget of the truth. Enough to get him off my back.
“Do you remember Joanne and Vinnie from season one of Forest Feud?” I ask.
They were two contestants who formed an alliance and ended up dating midway through the season.
Dad nods; of course he’d know that. “This is less like that, and more like Yolanda and Matt.” The iconic pair from season fourteen, who pretended to be in love so they’d be voted fan favorite.
It was a shitstorm online when it came out that they were just faking it the whole time—another reason Seyoon and I have to keep the cameras fooled just as much as our competitors.
It seems to click for Dad. “Wait, does that—”
“Dad, enough.”
I don’t know who’s more surprised, me or him. I’ve never been the type to put my foot down with him before. Dad’s jaw pops open, and I crumble. “Just… not here. The game’s still on.”
Dad blinks, then shuts his fallen jaw. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll leave you alone. For now.”
He ruffles my hair. Whatever—it’s the stylist’s problem, not mine.
After what feels like forever, we arrive at the private lot, then turn onto a different road until we reach a large, flat clearing.
Entirely out of place among the nature reserve is the giant, wooden stage with a tall, metal backdrop adorned with velvet curtains.
Stage lights encompass the roof, grazing the branches of the evergreens towering over.
Four lecterns line the stage, each with a microphone, and to the side of the stage, there are five chairs.
In front of the curtain is a huge screen with Forest Facts Frenzy! flashing in obnoxious letters.
My heart leaps. “That’s—”
“The challenge from the tenth season!” Dad finishes. We look at each other and grin.
We all load off. Our guardians are guided to the spectator seats, and we’re directed behind the lecterns, each with a red button and a tablet.
Seyoon and I share one, of course. There’s an odd glaze to her expression she doesn’t shake off even as Garrett hops onto the stage and the cameras start rolling.
Welcome, contestants and families, to Forest Facts Frenzy!
For those not familiar, this is a fan-favorite trivia challenge from the show’s original run. You’ll be tested on your knowledge of the old seasons and iconic contestants who came before you, including yours truly. It’s fitting given we’re a reboot, right?
The format is straightforward. On each of your lecterns is a big red button. I’ll ask you a question, and the answer options will appear on the screen. The first person to buzz in gets to answer, but if you’re wrong, the rest of you get the chance to steal.
And now for my next demonstration of kindness: Each of you gets ten points to start. Blake, load ’em up.
Rewatching every season of Forest Feud my whole life is finally about to pay off. This challenge was made for me. I seek out Dad, who looks as thrilled as I feel. He shoots me two thumbs-up from the sideline and mouths, You got this. It feels good to make him proud.
Blake, behind the setup of cameras, signals at one of the tech assistants. The sound of coins clanging against each other plays from the speakers above as the screens in front of our lecterns reflect ten points each.
There’s a short interlude for the videographers and camera techs to adjust their equipment from filming Garrett’s intro to the next section of the scene. Seyoon’s still pale, and it hits me why. I nudge her leg with my knee under the lectern.
“Hey,” I whisper. “You don’t need to be nervous. I know you haven’t seen the other seasons, but I got us. You can count on me.”
She scans my face. She chuckles half-heartedly. “I know you’re trying to comfort me, but your woeful gerbil eyes aren’t exactly reassuring.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
Seyoon barks out a surprised cackle, and I warm up a bit to have been the one to make her laugh.
She relaxes into a small smile. “Thanks, Dean.”
The production crew is ready. Blake, sitting in a director’s chair off the stage on the ground behind Garrett, signals for filming to resume.
“Campers, I’ll go easy on you for the first question,” Garrett says. He shuffles the notecards in his hands. “Ready? Who was the first person to win Forest Feud?”
The answer options pop up on the big screen behind us as well as the tablet on our lecterns. My eyes quickly scan over each option in just a second or two. Easy—
BZZRT!
Carter slams his buzzer before my hand’s off the table. “A. Ryan Alley.”
The sound of coins jingling rings out as five points are added to Carter’s screen. He looks smug.
“How the fuck did he read that so quickly?” Seyoon hisses, panic lacing her words.
There’s no time to answer her, because Garrett’s already moved on to question number two. “How many years was Forest Feud’s original run on air?”
Seyoon’s quick reflexes get her to the buzzer first. “Fifteen.”
Garrett makes an incorrect buzzer sound with his mouth.
Adrenaline flushes through me as I slam the buzzer again. “Seventeen,” I correct. “There was a season that got delayed.”
“Hmm, one of you was wrong, and one of you was right. Do they get points for that, Blake?”
The woman purses her lips, thinking. After a minute, she nods. “For that round, yes. But since you two are on a team, please make sure you are giving a unified answer.”
Seyoon’s white-knuckling the side of the lectern. “Relax,” I whisper. “Let’s take it easy, okay?”
She nods hastily, but there’s still something wrong. “Easy. Yeah. Relaxed.”
Then Garrett’s back to it, leaving us hardly any room to think.
There’s a scramble to the buzzer every time—a race I keep losing.
Fuck. I can read the answer options quick enough, and I know which one is correct, but my reflexes can’t compete with Carter’s, Siddharth’s, or Vendredi’s.
Seyoon could, but she’s too busy carefully reading over the options on the tablet much longer than everyone, looking startled when someone else answers before she’s finished.
“How many times has a contestant thrown up on screen?”
“Oh!” Siddharth screams, practically jumping on his lectern to slam the buzzer first. “C. One hundred times.”
“Wha—one hundred times? You really think we shot, edited, and aired a hundred contestants hurling? Wrong.”
“Aw, man.”
“Which toe did season-four contestant Robbie Evans lose in the first challenge?”
Bzzrt. “D. His big toe?” Five points to Vendredi.
The sound of coins jingling over the speakers grates on my nerves, a reminder of all the points we’re not getting.
I glance over at the parent section and regret it.
Dad’s standing up, biting his fist like it’s taking every ounce of his strength not to jump on stage and interject himself.
Seyoon’s not looking much better. Her foot bounces restlessly on the stage.
Garrett flips his card. “What number—”
Seyoon slams the buzzer so hard the plastic cracks. “C.”
What the hell is she doing?
“Hey!” Carter yells, pointing at us like an angry debate candidate. “The answer options haven’t popped up, she didn’t read them. That’s cheating.”
Garrett huffs. “Maybe not cheating, but it’s certainly annoying. From now on, anyone who buzzes in before reading all the answer options will face a ten-point deduction. Got that?” He directs the question to Blake and the woman running the computers depositing points onto our screen. Blake nods.
Seyoon drums her fingers nervously next to the buzzer. “What happened to taking it easy?” I hiss.
“Sorry.” She winces. “I… I can’t read the options fast enough. A one-in-four chance of getting it right didn’t sound bad.”
“That’s a three-in-four chance of getting it wrong. Let me do the answering, alright? You’re going to get us a penalty.”
“But everyone’s beating us to the buzzer! We’re going to lose,” Seyoon snaps. “We can’t lose.”
My head jerks back. I examine her splotchy face, her chest heaving with breaths, the way her pupils jump around. “I know we can’t. I won’t let us, okay?”
She blinks, nodding, but she doesn’t seem as reassured as I’d hoped she’d be.
The game goes on, with more questions being tossed left and right, some no-brainers, some that we all struggle with. I manage to sneak a few more points in, but none of it seems to settle Seyoon, who looks out of it every time she glances at her mom on the sidelines.
Garrett shuffles his cards. “Alright, this question is worth double points. You hear that?” Seyoon leans forward. “When did Forest Feud switch from a voting-based elimination to a point-based system?”