Chapter 33
OKAY, STUART LITTLE’S NOT SO BAD, ACTUALLY
SEYOON
Umma, the kind, merciful soul that she is, pretends to believe me when I tell her I’m just feeling sick.
Maybe it’s because I do look pale and weak, or because both of us know that telling the truth wouldn’t change anything.
On the solemn ride back to Mount Rainier, she lets me rest my head on her shoulder and rubs my abdomen, quietly humming the Korean song she would sing to me when I was a child with a stomachache.
We film a goodbye scene in the parking lot.
I tune out whatever Garrett says. When it’s Umma’s turn to board the bus, I hug her, ignoring all the eyes and cameras trained on us.
I let myself be swallowed in the feeling of being small again, of searching for comfort in my parent instead of feeling like I need to be the pillar.
Umma’s always been strong. I know this. I just want to be strong for her so that she doesn’t have to be all the time.
“???,”1 I mumble.
“?? ????”2 she chastises. “I told you already. Winning isn’t everything.”
“But I didn’t come here to embarrass your name and legacy, and if I don’t win, I’m—”
“There is no legacy to uphold here. These games aren’t all we are.” She pulls back and pats my cheek, smiling. “The only name you should worry about making is your own. You don’t need to be a winner to be Seyoon.”
For the first time, the two separate in my mind, and I consider who I am outside of how well I do.
The truth is that I don’t know.
Once all the parents leave, we head back to camp and hardly get a chance to collect ourselves before it’s time for elimination.
I think I’m going to be sick for real this time.
If I throw up on the campfire, does that make me more sympathetic, or pathetic?
I don’t have it in me to lean over and ask Dean how the rest of the challenge went. I’m too ashamed to face him.
The cameras roll, and Garrett launches into his spiel. The slow, ragged beating of my heart drowns out anything he says. I clench my eyes shut and dig my nails into my knees. It’s happening. There’s nothing I can do to stop it.
It’s only when gasps surf the semicircle of contestants that I dare look up. Luke has turned the leaderboard around.
The new scores are revealed.
1st
Carter Moxley
79 pts
2nd
Dean Parker
71 pts
3rd
Seyoon Shin
65 pts
4th
Vendredi Tengku
52 pts
5th
Siddharth Patel
46 pts
Even without attempting to do the mental math, it’s obvious from the jump in rank I got that Dean earned us an unthinkable number of points. All on his own. And he still split them with me. Finally, I turn to him, my jaw nearly on the grass. He’s already looking at me.
The corner of his mouth turns up, his dimples appearing, as if to say, We made it.
Would you look at those rankings! Everyone played a mean game, but no one could compete with Dean’s Forest Feud knowledge. I think you know more about the series than I do, quite frankly.
Siddharth, I am truly sorry to see you go. Really—you’re our personality hire. Do you have any final… what are you doing? Why are you coming up here? Are you—oh, aw, a hug. Now, isn’t that sweet? Thanks, kid. If it was up to me, you’d be staying.
CONFESSION TAPE—Siddharth Patel, Contestant
Man. It’s my own fault. My sister talks a lot about her time on the show, but I have a habit of tuning out what she says.
Boy, did I regret that when it came to all those trivia questions.
It’s alright, though. I had a hell of a time here, and I made some great friends.
Hey, at least now I can hang out with Adin again.
The main reason I wanted to come on the show wasn’t to win, anyway. I just wanted to impress my nieces and nephews. Get some cool points with them. But they’re a tough crowd. I think even if I did win, they’d still make fun of me.
Siddharth wraps each of us in a bone-crushing hug, including every single crew member in the area, which takes some time and ruins some of the footage when he tackles the camera operators. Once we say goodbye, we’re dismissed to enjoy an evening off for once.
Dean approaches me. I brace for anger, or at least a snarky comment about my ego failing me now, but he doesn’t seem upset.
“Hey,” he says gently. “What happened earlier?”
“I… got sick.”
Dean steps a little closer, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. I scan every inch of his face, checking for signs of resentment. Judgment. But nothing.
“You are hot,” he says, pulling away. “Your temperature, I mean. Obviously, you know what I mean.” He shuts his eyes. “Can we talk?”
That’s the last thing I want to do right now, because I know Dean’s going to pry the truth out of me, with his pouty lips and his big, brown eyes.
Damn him and his Stuart Little–like aura and compassion.
I don’t have it in me. “Uh,” I say, looking around for an excuse.
“Actually, I was going to go for a swim.”
“Can I join?”
Which is how we end up sitting on the dock together, shivering in swimsuits, our legs dipped in the cold water.
The entire lake is painted lilac, a glimmering reflection of the cotton-candy sky above.
The few icecaps still left on Mount Rainier’s peak are pink in the dying light.
Only the crickets humming in the grass and the easy sloshing of the waves rolling up on the rocks underscore the quiet.
It helps slow my rapidly thumping heart. Dean’s presence helps, too.
He bumps his knee against mine and points at my water bottle. “Do you mind?”
I hand it over, and he thanks me before taking a long swig. His Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks. I follow the motion with my eyes, up his throat and along the curve of his jawline. His eyes are shut. Long, blond eyelashes graze the delicate skin of his cheek.
When we first met, Dean wouldn’t have ever dared think about asking to drink from my bottle, and if he did…
well, I’d still let him, but I would think it was weird.
Something’s changed. I don’t know when it happened on his end—because I have been perfectly terrific company the whole time—but for me?
Maybe it was when he took me stargazing.
Or when he helped me prank Carter. Or when he jumped in the lake with me, doggy-paddling while apologizing for acting like a jerk.
No, actually, it was that first night, when he wrapped my hands up in gauze.
I knew then that I wanted to be his friend.
And we are now. Dean and I are friends.
I tug the inside of my cheek between my teeth so my lip doesn’t wobble. I let down my friend today. I let down Dean. It’s not easy for me to make a real friend, someone I trust enough to be vulnerable around—
“Hey, you fucker, I said you could have a sip, not the whole thing!”
Dean only grins, passing me back my empty bottle. “I saved a drop in there for you.”
I huff, taking the final swig. I don’t think about the fact that our lips touched the same rim, because why would that matter? We’ve kissed. Which also doesn’t matter, because it was for show. Our friendship? That’s what’s real. That’s why this hurts.
Quiet swells between us. Eventually, Dean prods. “So,” he asks. “Why can’t you lose?”
I think it’s one of the dumbest questions I’ve ever heard, until I realize he’s specifically referring to what I said during the challenge before my epic, caught-in-4K-quality freakout.
I sigh and look over at him. The last rays of daylight wrap Dean’s features in a warm, tangerine hue.
He meets my eyes these days with so much more confidence than when we first met.
He’s pretty.
The thought springs in my mind like a flower perking up in the rain. I would tell him that, but I don’t know how to explain I mean “pretty” in the same way the sunset is coloring the sky right now. The kind of beauty that you need to take a step back from to fully appreciate every detail.
Even though I’ve never needed a shoulder to cry on, I find myself, for once, actually wanting one. Dean’s shoulders look pretty sturdy.
“If I don’t win the cash prize, my mom and I could lose our home,” I say, muttering to the water below. I don’t see any cameras around, and since we’re in our swimsuits, we didn’t have to put our mics on. In this quiet, empty moment alone with Dean, I feel safe enough to be vulnerable. Honest.
“My parents are going through a divorce right now,” I continue.
“My dad’s a bum, but he’s the one with a stable job, not her.
If I don’t win the money, the courts could force me to live with him.
My mom had just let me know the situation’s getting worse.
That’s why I was out of it during the challenge.
So…” I kick my foot under the water and watch the ripples bubble to the surface.
“I can’t lose. Because I can’t lose her. ”
“Oh,” Dean says. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Seyoon.” He frowns at our distorted reflections in the lake. “I’m realizing I never asked why you were here.”
“I guess it didn’t come up. I assumed it was the typical stuff for you, redeeming a family legacy, etcetera, etcetera.”
He snorts. “Well, I am doing it to make my dad happy, partially. But I’m mostly here for my sister. She wants—needs to leave our tiny town. Winning is how I can help make that happen.”
“You’re a good brother.”
“You’re a good daughter.”
My chest warms. I know there’s not really incentive to, but I reach over and lay my hand atop his. He flips it over so we’re palm to palm. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a touch. Friends hold hands too.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t help us earn a single point. I even cost us some,” I say quietly. “Thank you for sharing yours with me. You saved my ass. I don’t know how you got all those answers right—you’re incredible.”
He scratches his head. “It’s nothing.”
“Just take the compliment, dude.”
Dean laughs. “Really, though. It’s nothing. Remember how much I needed you in the survival skills challenge? We balance each other out. That’s why we’re partners.” He smirks. “Besides, we’ll win so many points back, it won’t matter that we have to split them, right?”
“I said that to you.”
“I know.”
“You still want to work with me? Despite everything?”
“Of course I do. Because of everything.”
It’s startlingly honest. Dean seems to realize this and rubs the side of his neck, looking down at our interlocked hands instead of at me. No one’s ever wanted me because of everything. Dean has seen me at my lowest, my meanest, my weakest. He’s seen me when I don’t win. And he’s still here.
Heat blossoms from my ears to my chest. I haven’t proven I’m worth it, yet Dean is still here.
His face turns pink, but it could be the lighting from the sunset, so I don’t linger on it. Dean swallows. “Seyoon?” he says quietly, like he wants to tell me something devastatingly important. It makes my ears ring.
“Yeah?”
Then Dean inches closer. My breath stalls. He cups my cheek with his palm and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. A graze that lights my senses on fire. My mouth tingles when he pulls away, and I realize I was leaning in, chasing his touch.
“What—” My voice cracks. “What was that for?”
There’s something in Dean’s expression that makes my stomach tie up into knots. His eyes flit over every part of my face, as if looking for something. An answer. I’m not sure what his question is, so I keep my features neutral. Dean meets my gaze, then he shuts his eyes briefly.
“I think I saw somebody up there. Maybe one of the other campers,” he says. “Figured we should show everyone we’re still on good terms after the challenge.”
For some reason, my stomach dips. “Right. That’s smart.” He is smart. That’s why we’re allies.
I glance over my shoulder to check, though, and don’t see anyone.
Silence falls over us as we watch the sun dip all the way down. It’s not until several minutes later, when I’m thinking of breaking the quiet to suggest we head back, that footsteps sound on the dock behind us.
I turn around and squint to make out who it is in the rapidly dimming twilight. It’s Vendredi, clad in a swimsuit.
“Hey, lovebirds, why are you still dry?” She stops just in front of us and points at Dean. “Can you not swim?”
“No, I can, technically. Not well, but—AH!”
She pushes him over the ledge, and he falls back into the water with a terrific splash. Dean bobs up a second later, looking like a drowned rat. I burst into laughter. He watches me, and his frown smooths out.
Vendredi opens her arms for me. “Hey, come here.”
I stand and warily embrace her. I relax when she rocks us back and forth. “Are you doing better now?” Vendredi says in my ear, her concern palpable.
“Yeah.” It’s nice to be able to answer honestly. She hums and gives me a big squeeze.
“I’m so glad.” Then she pulls us both over the edge.
The frigid water swallowing my body is enough to reset my nervous system. I surface with a gasp, then laugh so hard I nearly inhale lake water. The burn in my lungs is the first ache in my chest today that’s felt good. Really good.
Footnotes
1. Sorry.
2. What are you saying?