Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“Calla, we’re going to be late.” Michael checked his watch as I ran around my mother’s house frantically searching for something. Why was I at my mother’s house, again? I couldn’t remember but I knew I needed to find...to find...find something. I couldn’t quite recall what it was, but I knew I needed it.
“I’m almost ready,” I called.
Michael shrugged off his jacket. “I’m going to go make some food if it’s going to be a while.”
“Don’t do that or we’ll never get there on time!”
I continued my frantic search. I took the stairs two at a time until I was in my childhood bedroom. I tore through the closet before moving on to my chest of drawers. My heartbeat started to quicken as the mild panic of not being able to leave on time set in. What was I even looking for?
I spun around, out of my room and I was in the apartment that I used to share with Michael. The one I had moved out of. This didn’t faze me as I hurried to the window seat I’d always loved—the one that overlooked the street below. The one that had made Michael and me sign the lease as soon as we walked through the place. I ran over to that seat and grabbed my bag that was lying there. I threw it over my shoulder and raced back to the kitchen.
“I’m ready,” I said.
Instead of Michael, Arnie stood there staring down at me. “I think I’m just going to stay back,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “We have to go.”
Arnie just shrugged, looking far too calm for my liking.
I grabbed his arm and tried to pull him toward the door. “Let’s go.”
He slipped out of reach and shook his head. “I’m okay.”
I jolted out of bed once again, dripping with a cold sweat. Gasping, I took a few deep breaths to steady my racing heart. God, I hated these dreams. They forced me into an endless sense of anxiety and dread while I slept, and then when I finally woke up, I felt stressed and wide awake.
The clock on my nightstand displayed two-fifteen a.m.
There was no way I’d ever get back to sleep. Especially since we couldn’t have our phones, a book, watch TV, or really do anything that might be a useful distraction.
As I lay there in the darkness, the hollow feeling in my stomach became increasingly noticeable until a loud grumble finally escaped. Crap . I had forgotten how hungry I was.
After the date—if you could even call it that—we’d rejoined the others for a little while before being sent to our rooms. Despite the dismal dinner, we were never offered more food.
After my stomach growled again, I got up out of bed and pulled on a vintage sweatshirt and black leggings. I slipped into my fuzzy slippers that sat by the door and hesitated, my hand over the doorknob. There were no outright rules against leaving the rooms at night, but Brady had told us all to stay there whenever we weren’t filming. He hadn’t said it like it was a hard and fast rule, though. When we gave up our phones, for instance, they had threatened us with a fine if they found that someone was hiding an extra.
The pain in my stomach eventually won out. I poked my head out of my room and looked up and down the dimly lit hallway. Blinking a few times, I let my eyes adjust to the new surroundings, then stepped into the hall and carefully closed the door behind me. Glancing up, I saw one of the cameras angled toward my door and I froze.
Those probably weren’t even on at this hour, and even if they were, it wasn’t like someone would be monitoring them. Instead of turning toward the main lounge where we usually congregated, I turned the other direction—the one the waitstaff usually brought food from. We hadn’t ever been shown the kitchen, but it couldn’t be far, right?
I crept down the hallway and turned a corner. It was just another set of rooms. I continued down this one, moving faster now, before turning left at the next corner.
“Ahh!” I let out a muffled cry as I collided with a hard chest. A warm hand covered my mouth.
Eli stared down at me.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed once he took his hand away.
“I could ask you the same question. It’s the middle of the night,” he whispered.
“I need food,” I admitted. “My stomach growled so loudly it woke me up and now it’s not letting me get back to sleep.”
“We can’t have that. Follow me,” he said, before turning and moving silently down the hall.
“Can we get in trouble for this?” I asked, keeping pace with him.
“For eating?” he asked with a grin.
“For lurking around late at night. Brady told us not to leave our rooms.” We turned another corner, and found a small sitting area with a few couches and tables.
“I don’t think letting contestants starve to death is best practice for a reality show,” Eli said.
“I didn’t say I was starving to death. I just said I was hungry.”
“The dinner on your date wasn’t good?” He said the word ‘date’ mockingly. I should have just lied about my feelings for Arnie. Maybe this whole weird energy we had going on could have been completely avoided if I’d just told him I had a crush on Arnie.
Eli stopped at a set of double doors just off the sitting room and pushed one side open, gesturing for me to enter first.
“What are you doing up anyway?” I asked as he turned on the lights and I took in the room. It was a small commercial kitchen with large silver appliances and a long countertop down the middle that separated the workspaces on both sides. At the end, there were two industrial-sized fridges.
He stepped in and walked to the end of the room. “I can’t sleep on this schedule they’re forcing us to keep. I’m typically a night owl, so forcing us to bed at ten just has me pacing my room for hours.”
He threw open the fridge and I peeked at its contents from behind him.
“How did you know where the kitchen was?” I asked, my stomach gurgling as he produced a tinfoil-covered baking dish.
“Found it while wandering around on the first night,” he admitted. Peeling back the tinfoil revealed it was the fried rice we had been served for lunch today. Eli rummaged through the drawers and produced two forks, handing me one. “Do you want to try to warm it up, or?—”
I had already snatched the fork away from him and started digging into the cold rice. I nearly moaned with relief as the first bite hit my stomach.
Eli chuckled. “I guess cold is fine, then.”
“Do you know they don’t feed us on the dates?” I said, taking another forkful. “They didn’t feed us in our rooms because it was a dinner date, and then they only let us eat two bites of the food—which was disgusting, let me add—and forced us to talk or do interviews the entire time. The whole thing was ridiculous.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Sounds romantic.”
I already regretted my choice of words. Me admitting the date was bad wasn’t going to get Eli off my back.
“I mean, we kind of opened up to each other,” I deflected, taking another bite.
Eli tapped his fork against his chin, looking thoughtful. “You know, somehow, I don’t quite believe that.”
“Have you opened up to Sofia?” I challenged.
“Nope,” he said easily. “I don’t feel anything for her. I never said I did. In fact, I seem to remember putting myself out there to someone else and getting rejected.”
The playful expression on his face was almost enough to dissolve some of my nerves.
“Arnie and I make a good team. As demonstrated today.”
“And you’re going to stick together?” Eli asked. I didn’t like the knowing air in his voice. Like he was aware of something I wasn’t.
“Yep,” I insisted.
We stood there in silence for a few beats following my clipped response. If he thought I was going to continue to entertain this conversation, he was dreaming. I had made my stance more than clear.
Eli stared at me. Lines formed between his brows as his face became more and more thoughtful. He folded his arms across his chest and I tried to ignore the way his t-shirt strained against his biceps.
“You’re really uncomfortable here, aren’t you?” he finally asked.
I wanted to laugh. “I thought I made that pretty obvious by running out of the lounge on the first day.”
“I thought it was just the show getting to you. But it’s everything isn’t it? Being stuck with strangers, trying to get to know someone. Even if we weren’t being constantly tailed by cameras, you would still want out.”
My gaze fell to the counter as I fiddled with my hands. “So? Is it so hard to believe that I’d be uncomfortable in a setting like that?” I didn’t like how he made it seem like I was weird or something for preferring to be alone.
“Hey.” Eli reached across the counter and brushed my arm. I ignored my instinct to pull away. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just trying to understand you, is all. It’s not like this is comfortable for me either. Maybe I’m better at hiding it, but opening up, trying to find a connection...This is all strange for me too. Why do you think I gravitate toward you so much? In a setting like this, where everything is foreign and awkward, you’re the only person who makes it feel less difficult.”
A tingly sensation fluttered through my chest as I finally met his eyes again. I found nothing but sincerity in them.
“You know, I wasn’t always like this,” I said.
He tilted his head, waiting for me to continue.
I gestured to myself. “I wasn’t always this awkward shell of a human. I mean, it’s not like I was ever going to win a social butterfly pageant, but I was at least capable of basic human interaction.” I sighed, debating how much of myself to show. But I felt calmer now in the quiet, without a microphone pressed against my chest and a camera bearing down on me from above. “When Michael—when it all happened, no one knew how to talk to me. My best friends from before had grief of their own. We had been together since we were eighteen. Everything was ours and nothing was mine.” I blinked a few times. “I never meant to get so withdrawn.”
“When did it happen?” Eli asked quietly.
“Don’t you mean ‘how’ did it happen?” I knew I sounded bitter, but he didn’t budge or look away uncomfortably like most people did. I hated that question. It was like people felt entitled to ask it any time they found out my fiancé had died. I understood human interest and all, but why was I expected to rattle it off as easily as a bullet point on the résumé of my life?
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me,” Eli said softly. “I just want to know you—in any way I can. I’m not sure what the right thing to say is, but if I ever offend you, please feel free to tell me to fuck right off.”
My lip twitched. “It was two years ago.” I found myself surprised that I wanted to continue. “We lived together, and had been engaged for over a year at that point. But we’d been dating since we were eighteen so we weren’t in this big rush to walk down the aisle.” I smiled sadly, knowing that even if Michael had lived, we never would have taken that step. But that was something I wasn’t ready to share.
Eli’s eyes darkened but he didn’t say anything.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “The whole thing happened so suddenly. One minute I was on my way to meet him for dinner, and the next he was gone.” I squeezed my eyes shut at the memory. “It was pouring rain that day. He always biked everywhere and I never even worried about it. He was one of those people who seemed bigger than life, you know? Untouchable. But all it took was one moment and he was gone. He hit a slick spot and fell into traffic. A car hit him and—” I choked back a sob .
“Hey,” Eli whispered. “You don’t have to talk about this.”
“It’s okay,” I said, inhaling through my nose. “I’ve always been a crier. I can’t help it. It’s been two years, and I’ve had time to process it—to accept it. But it’s still so surreal to think about. He was so young and invincible. He was the boy I fell in love with when we were just teenagers. Then he was gone in an instant.”
Eli rubbed his tense jaw.
“I can’t even imagine what it would be like to go through that,” he finally said. “You were both too young.”
“Unfortunately, there isn’t an age limit on something like that.”
Eli blew out a breath. “I really want to hug you right now, but I’ve noticed...” He paused, assessing me. “I’ve noticed that it doesn’t seem like you want to be touched.”
I cradled my head in my hands, embarrassed he’d noticed. “When Michael died, everyone wanted to hug me. Some people say they won’t hug you, because you look too fragile or they feel uncomfortable about it, but that wasn’t my experience at all. Suddenly it felt like everyone had to have a piece of me, some thing that could only be given through physical contact.
“Every time I entered a room—hug. Every time I left a room—hug. Like if they didn’t encircle me with their arms and tether me to them, my now-empty life would cause me to float away, or something. But any time someone reached for me, it jerked me out of my own mind. Like they had physically pulled me from my thoughts. Maybe that was a good thing—maybe I shouldn’t have been alone with them. But how was I ever going to get comfortable with them if I wasn’t, you know?”
Eli rubbed his hands together and started to pace his side of the counter. “No, Calla. I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you mean.”
He walked around so he was on the same side as me. My breath caught in my throat as he drew closer, but he didn’t reach out and touch me.
“Fuck. I wish I knew what to say right now, but I have no clue. And I really wish I could hold you, but I know that’s not right either.”
I realized that the idea of him holding me wasn’t as unappealing as I would have expected. Suddenly the grounding experience I had just described sounded nice.
“It’s alright. No one ever knows what to say. And the ones who think they do usually say exactly the wrong thing.”
“But you have no idea how much I want to be the person who says the right thing.” He was so close now that I had to crane my neck slightly to meet his gaze.
I bit my lip. “It’s alright. I don’t need to hear anything.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Why did your sister sign you up? After everything you’ve been through? This kind of environment isn’t healing. It’s...it’s...well, I don’t know what it is, but it certainly isn’t right for you.”
It felt like he’d dumped ice water over my head. Tears stung hot in my eyes and I blinked a few times to try to banish them. Eli’s reaction was why I should’ve kept to myself. This exact feeling was what I was trying to get away from. I’d opened up to one person in this godforsaken place, and he’d pretty much told me I should leave.
Eli clocked the change in my demeanor and his features shifted from frustration to panic. “Shit. That didn’t come out right, did it?”
I pushed myself away from the counter—away from him. “Nope, I get it. I’m a downer. No one ever knows how to talk to me. That’s why I’m better off on my own. ”
He shook his head and reached out to me before abruptly dropping his hands to his sides. His throat tightened visibly as he gulped.
“I just meant...these shows aren’t good for anyone’s mental health. The producers try to manipulate us and we hardly get any time to ourselves. They can say it’s a show about finding love, or whatever crap they pushed on us in the beginning, but it’s not. It’s a show about entertaining people. Full stop. That’s all they care about no matter what they say. You can’t trust them, Calla.”
“I’m not an idiot.” I stared up at him in disbelief. “I know what they’re doing, trust me, they’ve made it crystal clear from the beginning. When I go into my interviews and they bombard me with endless questions about Michael, I know what story they’re trying to tell. They want everyone to feel sorry for me. But just because I know what they’re doing, that doesn’t mean I’m letting them get the best of me. This is still the furthest out of my comfort zone that I’ve been in years. Maybe I could have picked a healthier outlet, but my sister was desperate. And that’s why I’m staying here. For her, and I guess for me too. Because I don’t want people to look at me for the rest of my life the way you just looked at me when I told you about Michael.”
Eli’s expression was tinged with regret. “I’m sorry for reacting like that,” he said as evenly as possible. “But it has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with this environment. I don’t trust anyone here. I just wish I’d met you under different circumstances.”
“Well, you didn’t,” I said. “This is our reality. We might as well make the best of it. It’s only for a couple of weeks, after all.”
“Only a couple of weeks,” he repeated, looking unsure.
It was hard not to get lost in his deep brown eyes as he surveyed me. For some reason, despite feeling vulnerable as hell, I found comfort in his gaze.
“After everything you just told me, I know this is probably the last thing you want,” he said softly. “But can I...can I just hug you for a few seconds?”
I inhaled sharply, surprised by his request. My whole body became tingly at the thought of his arms around me. To my surprise, I wanted them there.
I should say no. It wasn’t a good idea.
Instead, I nodded.
Eli took a cautious step toward me. He reached up with one arm and brushed my shoulder before he gently tugged me into his chest. My stomach flipped as he brought his other hand to the back of my head and cradled it under his neck. My arms stayed in front of me for a moment, elbows bent and sandwiched between our bodies. They should’ve acted as a comforting barrier, but I wanted to be closer to him. I wanted to breathe him in. For a second, I decided to let go, and I reached my arms around his torso, grabbing lightly onto his shirt. My eyes drifted shut as my face pressed against his body. One of his hands dropped to my lower back and he traced small circles there. I didn’t panic at his touch. It felt...good. More than good.
Feeling strange, I took a step back. Eli released me without any protest. Conflict flashed across his face.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He reached out and hesitated for a moment before gently twirling a piece of my hair between his fingers. The simple gesture had my pulse quickening.
“I just don’t want you to be surprised tomorrow.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m planning on picking you as my partner,” he said, trying to gauge my reaction .
“Arnie is picking me tomorrow,” I said simply.
Eli’s hand quivered for a moment before he pulled it away and took a step back. “I don’t think it’s going to go down like that.”
I took in his concern, like he really thought he was breaking the news to me gently. But despite this conversation and whatever feelings Eli had unearthed in me tonight, getting closer to him would be a bad idea. He might seem sincere and he might seem kind, but I had to remember he was on this show for a reason. He had a reputation—one which I doubted I could change.
Maybe he thought I was playing it safe with Arnie, but the way I saw it, the absolute worst thing that could happen to me on this show was getting hurt. Instead of helping me move on, that would likely set me back even further. So maybe Arnie was the safe choice, and maybe there was a spark between Eli and I, but he was wrong if he thought taking a risk on him was in my best interest.
And anyway, Eli was wrong. Arnie would definitely pick me. We had become friends and we were kindred spirits. We had both had our hearts broken in different ways.
He would pick me. He had to.