21. Episode 14 Paya #2
There’s no contesting that. The lingering conversation I shared with Celeste on the cushions of Outcast Isle keeps spinning through my thoughts, urging me to dig deeper. Without telling on myself.
I hold my hands up and blurt out the words scrambled in my head, unable to stop the frustration in my tone. “What happened between you and Blair? One minute camp was great. Next thing I see is you slapping a coconut out of her hands and you’re yelling at her.”
Jeida yanks her head back. “You and the rest of the team must be tired from jumping to all the conclusions you’re making. If you don’t have any news worth my time, please leave me to my privacy to decompress.”
This is not going as planned—not that I actually had one. I hold up both hands in resignation. “Okay. I deserved that. I’m sorry.” I chew on my bottom lip and try again. “Can I sit? Just for a minute. I’d greatly appreciate that.”
Jeida studies me for a moment, then finally softens. “You have one minute.”
Sliding down next to her, I rest my back against the cool rock. She’s already defending herself before I open my mouth to speak again.
“Like I said before, I didn’t hide anything. And as much as I’d love to take credit for burning a witch’s socks, that wasn’t me either. Knowing that snake, she probably did it to herself. If you came over here to—”
“I believe you,” I whisper toward the ground, my voice small.
She pauses. “You do?”
“Yes.” I don’t say why for obvious reasons. “Did she…say anything to you?”
Silence stretches between us. Jeida traces circles in the sand with a stick. “You could say that,” she finally says.
“I just want to know your side of the story.” I’m kicking myself for not talking to her in the first place, prioritizing my comfort over her truth.
She lets out a ragged breath, the stick freezing mid-motion, then the words pour out.
“We know each other…from before the game.”
Stunned, my mouth opens. “Bad breakup?”
She shakes her head. Her eye roll tells me it could’ve somehow been worse. “Absolutely not. We were never friends.”
The pieces slowly start clicking together as the story unfolds. She tells me she and Blair were students at the same prestigious art university. And how she’d dropped out. I didn’t even know Jeida painted.
“We were finalists for the same fellowship our senior year. It was almost twenty years ago, but—” Jeida squeezes her eyes closed.
Her breath wobbles and she continues, “I was set to win a fully-funded studio in Paris with mentor placement. Solo gallery exhibitions. The type of exposure artists can’t get on their own.
My mom worked three jobs just to help get me in the door. ”
Oh no. “What happened?”
“Two days before the winner announcement, my professor pulled me aside and gave me the heads up that I was slated to be the winner.” She motions through the air as she recounts the words.
“My paintings were one of a kind. My work ethic was unmatched. It wasn’t even close, she told me.
Then the night before the final review, the dean’s office got an anonymous complaint about me.
Apparently, I was aggressive and threatening toward students. The fellowship went to Blair.”
My stomach drops, remembering Blair’s words earlier at the challenge. “Did she file the complaint?”
Jeida shrugs. “I couldn’t prove it, but I know she did.
From the moment I walked into class my first day, she treated me like trash.
Loved by everyone, but talked over me during critiques, rolled her eyes when professors praised my work, and spread rumors behind my back.
Just enough to remind me where she thought I belonged. ”
I know what it feels like to watch someone twist the facts until your truth doesn’t exist anymore.
She scoffs. “The appeal process was an uphill battle that went nowhere. Schools like that don’t want ‘difficult’ students. How could I fight it without fighting?”
Silence.
She continues, “Without the fellowship, I couldn’t afford to stay. I dropped out eight months before graduation, moved home and worked call center jobs. I didn’t touch a paintbrush for over seven years.”
“That’s a long time,” I whisper toward the ground.
I know the feeling all too well. Lola didn’t only steal my project, she stole my voice.
Grandma GG’s words come to mind. She took your story idea because she saw something in you she doesn’t have in herself, Sugarplum.
Don’t go giving her your self-belief on top of it.
Advice that never truly sunk in until now.
Jeida puffs air from her mouth. “The worst part is, she didn’t need that fellowship. I found out later that her family’s name is on one of the buildings. Six-figure donors. She just couldn’t stand that I might get it.”
I toy with my wrap, glad to hear Jeida’s side finally.
“Like I said, it was twenty years ago. When I saw Blair again on the boat, I tried to be the bigger person. After all, I’m not here for her.
I want to retire my mother. She doesn’t even know I’m on the show right now.
She thinks I’m on a work trip.” Jeida’s voice cracks.
“She hardly has a retirement fund. It’s my fault, and I have nothing to show for it. ”
“Is that why you didn’t mention to anyone that you two knew each other?”
Jeida nods and clears her throat. “When I first saw Blair on the boat, I ignored her. Focused on my game. We kept our distance. But you know what she did today? She walked up to me and whispered that she hoped I’d ‘learned to control my aggression’ for the sake of the team.”
“Really?” I shake my head, now understanding the magnitude of the situation. Blair, with the soft voice and kind eyes, knew exactly what she was doing.
“Now I’m treating Blair exactly how she deserves to be treated, because I learned the lesson she taught me the first time.”
I open my mouth, then close it again. A long stretch of silence passes between us. “Wouldn’t getting voted out give her exactly what she wants, though?”
Jeida brushes sand off her hands. She shifts her body and looks into my eyes. “I’d rather go home empty handed with my dignity than let Blair try me again. I’m not that twenty-two-year-old anymore. I know better now.”
My mind jumps back to my fallout with Lola.
The endless cycles where I swallowed my pride and took the high road to keep the peace, meanwhile I had none.
If Lola were here, I’d write her name down every single vote until she was gone, too.
Can I really blame Jeida for her actions?
Unfortunately, everyone else at camp has.
I know this is The Final Summit, that lying and hiding identities can be expected, but if Blair is capable of this level of narcissism, who knows what else she’s willing to do.
Blair’s been running a Lola-level tactical game from day one and we’ve been doing her dirty work.
I played a role in the wrong person going home tonight.
I think about my next course of action. I don’t have a hero complex.
But thanks to production, I’m damn good at sabotage, and Blair is begging for a rewrite.
“I have to go.” I push to my feet. “Thank you for the chat. I mean that.”
Jeida blinks, caught off guard by my abrupt movement, but my feet are already moving. In a fast paced stride, I cross the beach, scanning the camp until I spot my alliance huddled by the edge of the tree line.
I approach Saffron and Arlie. “We need to discuss tonight’s vote.”