Chapter Eleven #2
I wave at him, not that he notices, and smile as another cramp clenches my guts.
I need to get him away from her…but I need a toilet more, so I keep walking.
Oh god. I’m not going to make it. It’s going to happen.
It’s going to happen right here, in front of dozens of cameras.
Shit dribbling down my bare leg in front of the guy I’m trying to convince to fall in love with me, the people I’m trying to befriend, and depending on how cruel the producers are feeling during post-production, all of America.
It’s going to happen.
I take off running. No no no no no this can’t be happening. Oh god. It’s happening.
I burst into the Bunkhouse, stumbling toward the bathroom light at the end of the hall. It’s so close. I just have to hold on.
I start to pull my bikini bottoms down, but I stop abruptly when I realize there is someone in the bathroom. The shirtless back of a very tall, very ripped man, hunched over. He spins around.
The first thing I notice is his bare abdomen.
Golden skin stretched over dozens of tiny muscles.
A trail of dark hair leading down past the waistband of his shorts.
I feel a twinge down below, a nice one, a welcome relief from the feeling of my bowels about to bottom out.
I’m such a dirtbag that I manage to get turned on even as I’m on the brink of irreparable mortification.
And then I notice the chestnut-coloured curls. The surprised look on the guy’s handsome face.
It’s Kei.
He’s holding a syringe to his stomach. “I’m diabetic,” he blurts out.
“Okay,” I say. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. I have to focus very hard on not looking again at that trail of dark hair.
And then my stomach makes an ungodly sound, a roar of desperation, burbling up from the depths of hell. Sweat springs on my upper lip. I look at Kei, eyes wide.
“I’ll just—” He points to the door. I nod. He hurries out.
Oh, thank god. I burst into the toilet stall, not a moment too soon.
The relief is the sweetest thing I have ever felt. This dingy toilet stall is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.
When I’m finally empty, I splash some cold water on my face and change out of my wet bikini.
I pull on a sundress and rub some moisturizer into my cheeks.
I’m combing out my wet hair as I hear the bell ring.
It’s time for the first Bunk Shuffle. I hastily weave my hair into a long braid as I make my way to the flagpole.
Natasha is there, looking like sunshine in a yellow sundress with turquoise sandals lacing up her tanned calves.
The girls form a line, with the guys standing opposite.
Gabby leads me to my place at the end of the line closest to Natasha, directly across from Isa.
He gives me a little wink. Damn, he really is sexy.
Kei is beside Isa, and he smiles at me with—what, is that concern?
Like he knows I was about to poop in my pants. Oh god.
“Are we good?” Natasha calls to Tyler. “Yes? Okay.” Natasha straightens and arranges her face into her camera-ready mask.
“Welcome everyone, to our first Bunk Shuffle! For the next four days, you will be shuffled into a new couple each day, so you all have the chance to get to know one another. Then, in our first official Couple-Up Ceremony, you will have the opportunity to choose your bunkmate going forward.”
The reaction is mixed. Harmony groans, while Sue-Ellen claps enthusiastically. I maintain an indifferent smile. Girl Next Door is ever the good sport.
I hold my breath as Natasha announces the couples.
When she says that Isa is paired with Harmony, I exhale slowly, relieved.
Anyone but Sue-Ellen, my fiercest competitor.
I’m paired with Garrett, a good neutral match.
When his name is called, he gives me an awkward hug and then moves beside me, his hands clasped in front of his stomach like he’s afraid to touch me.
Trina is paired with Giovanni, Valeria with Damian, and Sue-Ellen is with Kei, which also annoys me. But I bet that girl could sneeze and it would get under my skin somehow.
“Alright campers, time for your chores! Enjoy your day with your new bunkmates!” Natasha ushers us off toward the Chore Board.
“So,” I say to Garrett as we walk. “Are you having a good time?”
“I guess so,” he says. He doesn’t respond with a follow-up question.
We’re rostered for groundskeeping duty, which means raking, and getting the fire pit ready for tonight’s bonfire. “You gather firewood,” he says, not looking at me. “I’ll get started on the raking.”
It’s not that I want him to be flirty or anything, but base-level kindness would be appropriate. He’s not going to show well on TV, acting like that, but I can’t let him bring me down. “Sure,” I say. It’s a relief to get away from him.
I wander around, picking up sticks, and make a pile. Garrett comes up beside me and rifles through the assortment of twigs and branches I’ve compiled.
“Most of these aren’t usable,” he says, tossing half of the sticks aside. “Bring these down to the fire pit,” he says, indicating what’s left, “and I’ll meet you down there after I find some better tinder.”
I gather up the remaining sticks and head down toward the beach. A few moments later, Garrett appears with an armload of wood and starts meticulously arranging each piece until he is satisfied. He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest.
“So,” I say, in a falsely bright tone. “Fancy ourselves a woodsman, do we?” I’m desperately trying to crack Garrett, to see if he can lighten the fuck up for a minute. But no dice.
“I was a scout leader for six years.”
“Oh, wow.” Boy Scouts—fascinating. “So, have you met anyone that interests you?”
He shrugs without looking up. “Not really.”
“Maybe you just need some time to get to know everyone.” He doesn’t respond. He puts his hand on his stomach.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He winces. “I’m fine.” He sighs heavily, looking at the ground. Then he wraps his hand around his mic and leans toward me. “Do you ever feel like something is off around here?” He speaks so quickly and quietly I can barely hear him.
“What do you mean?”
His eyes dart around, like he’s anticipating a threat. “Something’s not right,” he says quickly, his forehead creased.
I swallow. “It’s intense,” I say, trying to find some common ground.
“Surreal.” He gives his head a little shake and looks down.
“But just look over there, across the water. Do you see the beach that we left from?” I point over to the grey strip of rocks and sand in the distance.
“That’s the real world. It’s just right there. ”
Garrett’s brow is furrowed. He shakes his head again, letting go of his mic. After a long moment, he sighs.
“Come on,” I say, taking his arm. “Let’s go back up to the camp. The challenge will be starting soon.”
We’re going up the path when Tyler arrives. He is rat-like, with his pointy nose and beady eyes. It wasn’t just the punch.
“Hey, you two,” he says, eyeing my hand on Garrett’s arm. “You look like you’re getting along.”
“Yup,” I say. I have zero interest in engaging Tyler in conversation right now.
“Cool, cool.” Tyler runs a hand through his hair, stepping in front of us as we go to leave. “Hey, Garrett, dude, can you hang back? I want to chat to you real quick.”
Garrett blinks several times in rapid succession. “Sure,” he says, flatly. I peer at him, and he nods. “I’ll see you back at camp, Cleo.”
My stomach curdles, so I make a beeline for the bathroom. Valeria is there, washing her hands. She looks at me in the mirror. Her face is pale, her eyes watering.
“Sorry,” she whispers.
I’m about to ask for what, but then I’m hit by the smell. Oh god. It’s putrid. Poor girl. I hold my breath and wave her off.
As I’m leaving the Bunkhouse, Giovanni bursts in, a panicked look on his face.
“You okay, G-dog?” I say, using Damian’s nickname for him, but he doesn’t answer. He half walks, half runs to the bathroom.
At the ring of the bell, I head out to the flagpole. Natasha is there with Kei, Damian, Trina and Valeria. “Where are the others?” she says to no one in particular, tapping her foot.
Sue-Ellen shows up, holding her stomach. “Harmony’s sick,” she says to Natasha. “She can’t do the challenge.”
Natasha sighs. “Where is she?”
“On the toilet,” Sue-Ellen says.
“I don’t feel good, either,” says Trina. Her pale skin is tinged slightly green.
“Christ,” Natasha mutters. “Where are Tyler and Gabby? Has anyone seen them?”
Garrett arrives, his eyes looking sunken, followed closely by Damian, who is moving gingerly. The only person who doesn’t look miserable is Kei.
“Harmony’s not coming,” Damian confirms. “She says to go ahead and start without her.”
“It’d be nice to have some guidance from the producers, but okay!
” Natasha says, exasperated. She adjusts her mic, and nods at one of the cameramen.
“Campers!” she exclaims, her sour mood erased.
“Our challenge today is an old camp favourite—the scavenger hunt! There are fifteen clues hidden all over—”
“I’m sorry,” Sue-Ellen blurts. Her eyes are wide, and she looks slightly stricken. “I’ll be right back.” She doesn’t wait for permission, she just takes off toward the Bunkhouse, walking like she has a hot poker up her ass.
“Me too, brB,” Damian says, prancing away, squeezing his butt cheeks together with his hands. I can’t help it, a giggle escapes.
“What the hell?!” Natasha cries, glaring at me. I look down, biting my lip. When I dare to look up again, I find that Kei is looking back at me.
“You okay?” he mouths. I nod back. Why is he so nice to me? He smiles, and I smile back, suddenly feeling shy.
And then there’s a retching sound. It’s Trina. She’s barfing, vomit thundering out of her mouth and splashing on the ground, splattering over Natasha’s beautiful teal sandals.
Natasha gasps. She’s frozen for a moment—we all are. She looks as if she might go apoplectic. “I’m sorry,” Trina calls weakly, but then she starts barfing again. This is carnage.
I’m struck again by that hollowed-out feeling in my stomach, like my bowels are about to drop out of my butt.
I excuse myself and head for the Arts & Rec cabin hoping for a little more privacy than the Bunkhouse.
My sense of urgency increases, so I pick up the pace, and as I burst in through the door, I nearly collide with Will, one of the cameramen.
“Good fucking luck, Cleo,” he mutters, as he breezes past. Inside, Tyler and Gabby are both standing there, slack jawed. When they see me, Tyler leans back, adopting a relaxed posture. “What’s up, Cleo?” he drawls.
“I, um, need a bathroom.” I look pleadingly at Tyler. Please don’t make me spell it out for you. “I’m sick. Everyone is.”
“What do—” Gabby starts to say, but there’s no time for questions.
“Sorry,” I say, pushing past them.
I wait inside the bathroom until I hear them leave. When I get back to the flagpole, it’s deserted, except for Kei, who is gathering up the scavenger hunt props.
“The challenge is cancelled,” he says. “You can go rest.”
“Thanks,” I say, nodding. “I think I will. What about you? You’re feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. I was the only one who didn’t have one of those protein smoothies.”
“How’d you get away with that?”
“Those things are always so high in sugar. I told Gabby I’d get sick if I drank it.”
“And yet you’re the only one who didn’t get sick. Not fair.”
“Twenty-five years of being diabetic and I’ve finally found a perk.”
We stand there, smiling at one another. I want to ask him why he hasn’t exposed me as a liar, and if he plans to, but there are about a dozen cameras on us right now. I have a feeling he wants to say something to me, too, but he doesn’t.
“Well, I guess I’ll go lie down.”
“Okay. I’ll check in on everyone soon. And if you need anything, just holler.”
I nod and turn toward the Bunkhouse. I can feel him watching me as I walk away. His kindness to me is unsettling. I was so rude to him on the plane, yet he’s been so sweet.
Seems sus. No one’s that nice, are they? Not unless they want something.
Which begs the question: what could Kei want from me?