Chapter 7
Tate
Clay from Colorado is genuinely nice. Maybe a little too nice?
Gabriella was nothing short of appalled by my wardrobe and simply said that this dress was the closest thing I have to cute.
To which I laughed and replied, “Oh, sis, you shouldn’t have.
” So, after having my hair nearly ripped out, straightened, and pinned up, only for it to be taken back down again, we’re here.
It still feels surreal. Past the group of contestants socializing, the crew is just about finished setting up “the set,” which is really just lighting over tiered stairs with the backdrop of the canyon behind it.
“Attention! Attention!” a man dressed in a suit says into a mic.
“Oh my gosh, it’s Carson Bailey,” Gabriella squeals before clutching my forearm painfully tight.
“Is it? He’s so much shorter in person...”
“Shh!”
“Guys, we need to get this clip before we lose the light, so could everyone form a line towards me, and we will direct you based on height to where you will be standing.”
There’s a low rumble as the group begins to squeeze together into something that looks like a snake that ate a possum. Clay stalls, looking around.
“Everything okay?” I ask, curious.
“Yeah, yeah. I just don’t see my buddy, Levi...”
“Levi Johnson?”
“From Tennessee?” he asks in confirmation.
I nod. “Yeah, that sounds like him. The “T” on his hat finally makes a connection. Where did you see him last?”
“Right before I came over and met you. He said he was going to get a drink from the bar.” His fingers reach up, scratching the side of his jaw. To gain some height, I come up on my toes to get a better look at the bar area. It’s vacant. Not even a bartender.
“He’s a big boy; he’ll figure it out,” he concedes.
“He’s definitely a big boy,” Gabriella chimes in, doing a little sway of her shoulders before laughing.
I roll my eyes, and the line starts to move.
Really, we’re just a bunch of bodies in this clip.
The host introduces us one by one, they roll our audition tape, and then they will announce the group song and we’ll be done.
We, quite literally, just need to stand there and look pretty.
The three of us are about ten people away from being placed.
I do a quick look around and still no Levi.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“Now?!” Gabriella hisses.
“Yes, now. I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry.”
“Yes, Sister,” I mock.
I make my way back into the house slowly, scanning everyone in line to see if maybe we missed him.
Which, in hindsight, is silly, because a man that tall is noticeable everywhere.
It’s not a Where’s Waldo? situation. I step inside to find an empty kitchen.
There’s no way I can search this entire palace and still make it back in time.
I’m about to step back outside when I hear something—a low rustling sound like when raccoons get into the trash.
Hesitantly, I follow it to a door at the back of the kitchen.
The door’s cracked, so I carefully pull back on it, my insides clenching in anticipation.
I should have grabbed a wooden spoon or something is the last thought I have before my brain blacks out.
Levi has a cute blonde pressed against the wall of the pantry, and they’re making out.
I feel like I’m twelve again; like I saw something I shouldn’t have.
I scream and they both stop what they’re doing to look at me. Say something, Tate. Speak.
“Oh, this is the pantry. Everyone was saying how it’s super-big and how I have to see it... Now that I’ve seen it, I’ll head out. Carry on!” I toss my thumb over my shoulder and give an awkward wink.
“No, you stay,” the blonde says, sliding down the wall, finger combing her hair into place. “I don’t want to be seen walking out with him. You understand.” She leaves without another word, and I’m frozen with my mouth hanging open.
“What are you doing in here? I thought you were talking to Clay?” He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing fuchsia lipstick across his palm before stepping out.
“What am I doing?! What are you doing, Mr. I’m-Here-to-Win-but-I’ll-Risk-Missing-the-Opening-Ceremony-to-...whatever you were doing in there.” My voice lessons from a yell to a whisper, igniting a smirk on his face.
“We’re not five, Tate. We were hooking up. Whatever. And I didn’t miss it. Look.” He motions towards the kitchen window. “There’s still, like, five more people in line.”
“Right, well, I’m going to go. Good luck to you in all your endeavors.” I feel really good about my exit. It felt very confident and not something a five-year-old would say at all, but then Levi grabs my shoulder, stopping me.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re judging for hooking up with...” He pauses for a long moment.
“Yes, do tell me. What’s her name?” I turn pointedly, dropping my head to my shoulder to look up at him and those two big ice blocks he calls eyes.
“We didn’t get that far, but to be fair, she doesn’t know my name either. She called me ‘cowboy,’” he says with a laugh. “It was a mutual distraction.”
“Why would you need to be distracted...” I study him.
“Tate McGregor and Levi Johnson, you’re needed on set,” an amplified voice booms through the walls of the house.
“Showtime,” Levi says, strutting past me.
***
“I’m glad that’s over.” Gabriella collapses onto one of the many patio chairs. “My cheeks burn from the constant smiling.”
I laugh. “It wasn’t that bad. All we did was stand there.”
“Which is exhausting,” she amends. Clay comes over holding a triangle made completely out of Solo cups between both hands.
“I come bearing gifts,” he sings out regally. Levi, doing his best impression of a grumpy shadow, follows behind. We avoid eye contact. He hands a cup to Gabriella, who first questions its contents before gracefully accepting. He offers the second to last cup to me.
“I’m okay, thank you.”
“Are you sure? It’s just beer. I know five a.m. is going to come before we know it.” He smiles.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“What? You don’t drink either?” Levi scoffs, making himself known. My sobriety isn’t something I usually open with, mostly because people don’t understand it. It isn’t a result of a personal problem, and I don’t have a good story to tell leading up to the decision, I just don’t drink.
“No, I don’t,” I say, looking up at him, wanting to know what he meant by “either” but not brazen enough to ask.
“Why?” he presses.
“Why does it matter?” I push back. Clay retracts the drink. Gabriella takes a sip and sighs, seemingly bored of our verbal antics.
“I’m just curious, Tate,” he says sternly, not backing down.
“Why does it make you uncomfortable, Levi?!” I could tell he wasn’t expecting that response by the way his body rears back a bit. Gabriella golf claps.
“Yes, I knew you had it in you somewhere!” she says.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I know that if Gabriella is clapping, I’ve gone too far, and none of this feels like me. My eyes drop to the ground in front of me.
“Levi, I’m sorry I raised my voice at you.” I exhale. “I think I’m going to head up for the night.”
“I’ll see you up there in a bit,” Gabriella says into the bottom of her cup as she finishes the last sip before snatching what was mine out of Clay’s hand.
Clay doesn’t mind. He’s smiling at me, face eager. “I’ll see you tomorrow, partner.”
Levi shifts on his feet, maybe waiting for more parting words, but I have nothing planned.
I press my mouth into a small smile in his direction before striding past him on the way back inside.
The yard is considerably less crowded than it was a couple hours ago, with groups of people now spread throughout the grounds; most contestants have found their clique.
It’s pretty cool that people from all over the country can be put in a house with one hundred strangers and make new friends in only a couple of hours. I have Gabriella now, and Clay.
The heat of the day has finally broken, draping everything in a moody blue glaze.
I step through the slider, into the house, and for whatever reason, my eyes lock on the pantry.
It’s just a large white door, pretty inconspicuous in every way, but somehow, I feel like I won’t be able to walk in it without thinking about what I saw.
Yeah, I shake my head loose of any thoughts of blonde tattooed girls or tall arrogant boys. Cowboys.