Chapter 13 Carter
Carter
“But I don’t want to go to a party,” said Carter, unable to fully eliminate the whine from her voice. “Can’t we go back to the villa?”
“Hear, hear,” said Sierra, leaning against the dressing room wall. “Let’s blow this joint and go get wasted.”
Carter shot her a bewildered look. “That’s not what I said.”
“I improved upon your suggestion.”
An intern knocked at the door. “Limo’s waiting.”
“A limo!” said Beck, hopping off the counter.
Carter groaned. No one, in all the Domain posts, had ever mentioned there being a season kickoff party for the cast and crew.
She did not like parties. Parties came with expectations. You had to mingle. You had to be pleasant and interesting and make scintillating conversation.
Essentially, you had to be . . . not Carter.
Plus, she hadn’t been given a chance to change back into her normal clothes, and she could barely breathe in the leather pants they’d put her in.
But no one seemed interested in her discomfort—physical or emotional—and soon they were out in front of the studio, filing into a stretch limousine. She climbed into the back seat and her heart sank.
Team Dread grinned at them from the other side of the limo.
“Sweet, sharing a ride with Kick It Carter,” said Jarius, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Or should I say, Totally-Choked-in-the-First-Round Carter?” He guffawed, but even his teammates seemed annoyed by his terrible humor.
Carter smiled wanly, avoiding the stare of Neil—the jerk who had quizzed her on inane math equations.
“You cleaned up in the snag round,” Carter said, because being nice was her default when she felt like prey. Be nice enough, and maybe they wouldn’t want to eat her alive. “Congratulations.”
Pink-haired Delphi smacked her bubble gum. She was still wearing sunglasses, even in the dim glow of the car’s blue LED lights. “The Game Master was going easy on us. Hope he tries harder for the next round, or this competition is going to be a breeze.”
“Don’t tease, Delphi,” said Gabriela, with her supermodel smirk as she let her gaze travel slowly over Beck, Carter, and Adi.
“It seems that some of our competitors actually found the room to be a little . . . challenging.” She pouted dramatically and turned her focus to Sierra.
“Best stick to plotting murders, goth girl.”
Sierra threw her arms over the back of the seat. “Don’t worry. I am.”
Gabriela muttered something in Delphi’s ear. The two giggled cruelly, and just like that Carter was back in school, enthusiastically raising her hand to answer the teachers’ questions while the girls in the back row laughed together.
“Is that your natural hair color?” asked Jarius. It took Carter a moment to realize he was talking to her. “I’ve heard red hair is good luck. Don’t suppose you’d let me pet you for a while?”
Gross wink.
Carter stared at him, disgusted, even as she could feel her cheeks flaming.
“Go ahead,” Sierra answered for her. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to put a ballpoint pen through someone’s eyeball.”
Adi gave a soft snort.
“Feisty,” said Jarius. “It’s nice to see that wasn’t just for the cameras.”
Another wink.
Beck leaned forward. “Is there something in your eye? You keep doing this creepy winking thing.”
“I’m just making small talk,” said Jarius, clearly enjoying how easily he could annoy them. “Might as well get to know each other.”
“Don’t waste your time, Jarius,” said Gabriela. “They’ll be the first to be sent home.”
Delphi snapped her gum. “It’s obvious who does and doesn’t belong here.”
“Gotta agree,” said Jarius. “Carter, you’re such a badass online! But in person, I dunno . . . you strike me as . . .” He shrugged. “A little soft. No offense.”
“Yeah, bet you know all about going soft,” said Adi, raising his eyebrows. “No offense.”
Carter’s heart drummed. She wanted to defend herself, but how could she? They were right. Watching the clips from the snag round had proven how inadequate she was. All her supposed Solve Specialist skills had evaporated the moment she was locked in that room.
“What do you think it takes to stay in the show?” said Beck. “You know, if we’re so lacking.”
“An IQ somewhere above the average dalmatian?” suggested Gabriela.
Beck frowned. “Actually, dalmatians are really—”
“Don’t,” said Sierra. “Don’t say smart.”
Beck’s mouth twisted.
“Naw, you know what it is?” said Jarius. “More than problem-solving, or teamwork, or any of that crap? You gotta want it. You gotta want it so bad you’d do anything to win. Whatever it takes to get your hands on that prize money. One. Million. Bones.”
“I mean,” said Carter, “I’m pretty sure it also has something to do with teamwork and problem-solving.”
Jarius grinned. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
The producers had booked an entire restaurant to host the season kickoff party—one of those hip places that charged twenty dollars for a ginseng-infused mocktail and cared more about Instagram-mable decor than good food.
Servers in sequined suspenders passed by with trays of tiny hors d’oeuvres, though most of the guests were crowded around a marble bar at the back of the room, everything backlit in red neon.
The party was hopping when they arrived.
The crew members who’d left the set early were clumped together in small groups throughout the restaurant.
Carter spotted Elijah and Lisa, their RAs from the villas.
She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Elijah yet, but at some point she should probably ask him for a one-on-one interview for her channel.
She glanced back, tempted to ask Sierra about last season’s party and if the contestants were expected to do anything, but Sierra had already disappeared. Carter frowned. Was leaving an option?
Vera, the social media manager with the lurid eye shadow, approached the group. “What am I supposed to do, post pictures of our teams cowering in the doorway?” She gestured toward the room. “Spread out. Mingle.” She said it like it was a bad word.
Carter stepped farther into the room, glad when Beck hovered close to her side. Adi wasted no time in heading for a booth in the corner and pulling out a book from his backpack. Darn it. Why hadn’t she thought to bring a book?
“What are we supposed to do, exactly?” said Beck. “Schmooze?”
“I’m not very good at schmoozing,” Carter admitted.
“Then stick with me.”
Carter made a suction-cup noise as she grabbed his arm. “Okay. I’m stuck to you now.”
Beck laughed. “First rule of schmoozing: always have a beverage. That way, you’re ready to do a spit-take whenever you hear something scandalous.”
“How many scandalous things are you expecting to hear?”
“In Hollywood? Tons.”
They headed to the bar. But the moment the bartender put up their drinks—root beer for Beck, pineapple juice for Carter—Vera popped back into view, a little too close for comfort. “You. I need an interview about that thing you did with the colored beakers.”
“I already did the post-round with Fitzy.”
“That’s for the show. This is for socials. Come with me.” She stalked off.
Beck waved regretfully at Carter before following Vera to what looked like a legit old phone booth in the corner, covered in long strands of tinsel and enormous faux flowers.
Trying not to feel abandoned, Carter took a long drink while digging her phone out of her handbag. She might not know anyone here, but her hundreds of thousands of followers would love to be at this party.
Her thumb hovered over the record button. On the screen, her own uncertain eyes stared back at her. It was a moment of truth. The avatar version of herself would’ve jumped right in, knowing exactly what to say and how to say it. She would be fun. Smart. Vivacious.
“Be Kick It Carter,” she whispered. “You can do this.”
She didn’t know if she believed that, but she forced herself to tap the button anyway.
“Hey, Clue Masters!” Her voice squeaked.
She coughed and almost stopped the video to start over, but she worried that if she did that, she wouldn’t have the guts to hit record again.
She gripped her smile and kept going. “Kick It Carter here, and you’re going to flip when you see where I am right now.
” She turned the phone around to scan the swanky restaurant before turning it back on herself.
“The Escape Game’s season five kickoff party!
Everyone, and I do mean everyone, is here. ”
So far, so good. She began to feel like she was channeling her online persona as she zoomed in on various members of the cast. “All twenty contestants from this season are hanging out and celebrating how we did in the snag round. Oh, you want to know how my team did?” She paused, tempted to spill the truth here and now.
My greatest contribution was proving I know how to look things up in an index.
Go me! It would be like ripping off the Band-Aid.
If she hadn’t signed that NDA, she might have done it, too.
Instead, she shrugged at the camera. “You’re going to have to wait for the episode to land this Sunday night. Oh, look! It’s the Game Master!”
Louis Augustus Russell was at the bar, talking to Gabriela from Team Dread and Emma from Crown Jewels. As Carter framed them in the shot, Gabriela tossed her hair off her shoulder and let out a laugh, while Louis pulled his newsboy cap down over his face as if to hide his own laughter.
A pang of envy hit Carter in the stomach. What she wouldn’t give to be sitting there, laughing at whatever brilliant thing Louis had said. Some people made it look so easy, like they weren’t agonizing over every word.
She blew out a breath and refocused the camera on Adi ordering a drink at the bar.
“There’s my teammate, Adi Parvesh. He’s”—she hesitated, searching for the right word to describe him to her followers, but all that came to her was aloof —“even more gorgeous in person. Just wait, Clue Masters. I guarantee there’s going to be a lot of swooning this season. ”