Chapter 32 #2
Not even a single millisecond after all four options appear on screen, a buzzer goes off. Who the hell can read that fast?
In shock, I realize it was Seyoon.
Fuck me.
“Well?” Garrett asks.
“Um,” Seyoon says. She turns to me expectantly, desperately. I quickly look back at our table to review the answer options.
Siddharth yells and points at us. “Hey, hey! That’s cheating! They didn’t finish reading the options before buzzing in! They’re buzzer-happy!”
Garrett throws his hands up. “Seriously?”
Her mouth opens and shuts like a fish. She looks between her mom, then me, then Garrett. “I’m sorry,” she says, voice thin and nervous in a way it never is. “I panicked. Sorry, it won’t happen again.”
But a noise like the Pac-Man death sound effect plays over the speakers anyway, and we both watch in dread as ten points drain from our counter.
Vendredi leans across the aisle to hit Seyoon in the shoulder. “Dude! Get it together. What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m…”
Her hands are shaking. There’s motion just past her, at the side of the stage. Her mom is standing up now, expression folded with worry. Seyoon notices, and the tremors start to wrack her arms. Dad’s still standing too. He’s shaking his head with a frown, looking right at me. My stomach knots.
Despite everyone’s eyes on us, I grab her hand. Seyoon looks up, her face a bright, cherry red.
“You promised yourself you’d never freeze again. That’s what you said the other day.” I try to smile for her. “Come on, sunshine. We can’t lose, right?”
Something about my words has the opposite effect than I intended. Her face pales like she’s going to faint or be sick or some other non-Seyoon-ish reaction. She shuts her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Then she clambers off the stage.
“Seyoon!” I call, but she ignores all of us and hurries away from the set, embarking down the road we came on. Her mom doesn’t hesitate before chasing after her. I move to follow, but Vendredi holds her arm up to block me.
“If you don’t play, neither of you will earn any more points,” she says sternly.
I swallow. I look after Seyoon’s rapidly disappearing form; at Garrett, Blake, and the cameras; and at Dad. I can comfort her later, but only if we’re both still here.
I continue to play. It’s the best thing I can do for her.
Somehow, I’m able to push Seyoon’s terrified expression out of my mind and focus on the trivia.
I crack my knuckles. Wipe the sweat from my palms. I focus.
I will the muscles in my hand to jump to the buzzer faster.
Inevitably, the questions get harder and include more obscure references that only someone who has watched reruns of the show every week for their whole life would know.
Just my luck.
“Final question, folks, this one for bonus points as well,” Garrett says. “In season five, the runner-up blamed one thing for his loss. What was it?”
Everyone else stares puzzled at the options on screen.
Everyone but me. I hit the buzzer. “D. The runner-up was Tate Pillipchuck. He blamed his competitor’s annoying breathing for distracting him, not knowing they had chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.
He later went on an apology run on all the major morning talk shows. ”
I get the points, and an eyeroll from Carter. Finally, I feel confident about a challenge.
After the game ends, Garrett goes to the tech setup and reaches over the woman working it to stab his finger on her keyboard. All our point boards fade to black.
“No spoilers,” he says, doing a pretty good job at forcing cheer and playfulness into his voice. If I hadn’t just spent the last month listening to him blabber, I’d think it was real. “We’ll reveal the final point standings at elimination.”
Filming wraps. They load up the equipment first, giving us a few minutes to catch our breath before heading back to camp.
I plop down on the edge of the stage as everyone starts clearing the area and walking toward the bus.
I see Dad catch up to Garrett and talk to him for a few minutes, then he comes to join me. Our legs hang off the edge.
“Damn,” he says. “I didn’t see the final score, but there’s no way you’re not in the lead. You killed that, Dean. You made your old man real proud.”
I chuckle, the adrenaline finally wearing off and leaving me drained. “Thank God for weekly TV nights.”
Dad’s grin fades. “That, uh, was unfortunate about that partner of yours, though. Is she… always like that?”
The urge to defend Seyoon rises like bile. I swallow it down on reflex, until I remember the way her voice cracked when she apologized before running off stage, and the words spill out. “Seyoon’s the strongest person I’ve met, in these games or out.”
Dad sighs. He’s not listening to me, not really.
He scoots closer and lowers his voice. “Hey. I checked with Garrett on the rules. If you end your alliance before elimination, they’ll divide your points by which questions you answered.
You’d keep the majority, obviously. That means you won’t pay for the deduction she got, and you won’t split what you earned. ”
His words ping-pong around my brain. I don’t know which train of thought to hold on to first. “Why would you ask Garrett that? I’m not going to—”
“Did you or did you not come here to win?” Dad cuts me off.
Because of course he’s not listening to me. Of course he doesn’t understand me. He gives me a sympathetic look, but it just makes me feel like a child.
“Buddy, I know this is tough. I’ve been there. That’s why I’m trying to help you. Learn from my mistakes. Your alliance has to end sometime.”
It has to end sometime.
I’ve known that from the very second Seyoon suggested we team up.
Only one of us can win. The numbers run automatically in my head.
Did I answer enough questions? Who earned the most points?
It was such chaos, there’s no way I could have kept track of what was going on, but I know it must be tight.
Splitting the points will make things tighter.
And yet, that’s the last thing I care about right now.
I stand up. My vision swarms, but I hold my ground and my voice steady. “Seyoon’s not just my teammate. She’s my friend. I’m not going to betray her, and I don’t care if you disagree.”
Dad rises to his feet too. His face pulls down. “What has gotten into you? This isn’t like you.”
It occurs to me that I can still turn back. I don’t have to shatter the safe, comfortable dynamic we have. The only thing we have. The idea of venturing forward is terrifying.
But if Seyoon were here, she’d speak up. And knowing her, even for the small amount of time I have, has turned me into the kind of person who doesn’t want to be paralyzed by fear anymore.
“This is me, Dad. And this is my decision to make, not yours.” My voice raises with every word, steadier than I actually feel. “I know you think I need you looking out for me, but I don’t. I need you to trust me. We need you to trust us—me and Meredith.”
“Meredith?” he asks, stunned. “What does this have to do with Meredith?”
“Everything.” I take a deep breath and try again, calmer. “I know we’re your kids, but you can’t treat us like children anymore. You may not understand our choices, but you have to respect them. Can you do that for us, please? Both of us.”
I’ve never seen this look on Dad’s face before. The wide eyes, the screwed brows, the parted mouth. This is it. New territory. Even though it scares me, the knowledge that Meredith would be proud of me makes it easier. I’m finally standing up for myself. For her. For Seyoon.
Dad’s silence is dreadful. But, eventually, he sighs, and it sounds like conceding.
“You really are like your mom,” he says gently.
“You’re right; I don’t understand. But I guess I don’t have to.
I love you, Dean, and I don’t want to push you away.
I’ll respect whatever decisions you make, here and back home.
” He rubs the side of his neck. “Meredith’s too.
I trust the both of you to do what’s right for yourselves. ”
I take a careful deep breath. “Really?”
Dad smiles. “Yeah. Of course. I know you won’t let me down.”
A smile spreads across my own face, mirroring his for the first time. “I won’t.”