Chapter 12
“ T his is amazing!” I run through the room and press my nose up against the window—that’s a door? Oh my gosh , this gets better and better by the second. I turn the knob and step outside into the fresh air and it’s medicine or magic because I feel like I can conquer the world.
The forest from where I walked out of is still there with its cobblestone pathway leading into the backyard. You can tell this house is on a mountain from the way I can see the snippet of water peeking through one of the trees.
I glance to my right. There’s a set of marble stairs that lead downwards. It’s an entrance and an exit without having to go through the main doors. I like it.
Peering a little further, there’s a wooden bridge connecting the mountain we’re on and another one with nothing but grass and… is that a barn ? I squint my eyes to get a better look and I’m shaking with excitement, because that indeed is a barn.
“Everyone’s busy gawking over the rooms and you went straight to the balcony,” I turn my head around. Hina’s rolling her luggage inside the room. The room’s beige, there’s art prints in frames on the wall, there’s a vanity, and the bed has too many pillows (there can never be too many).
“It’s a room I’ll be using to sleep in, not spend my life in. Besides,” I turn back to the outside. “This is where the real beauty is.”
“I like how simple you are, Nova.” Hina sounds amused. “And I mean that in a good way.”
The wind blows my hair back, erasing the heat from my cheeks. I’m not good with compliments. Words of affirmation may be my love language, but heck if I can respond to it without acting like an awkward idiot.
I let out a giggle and as I’m turning back around to face her, I pause.
Dean’s standing on the other balcony, looking at me.
His hair and shirt are flying in the wind.
There’s a softness in his eyes that almost makes me forget about last week.
My giggles transform into a glare.
The door behind me slams with more force than needed. There’s three other bedrooms in this house and he chooses the one next to mine.
The nerve that men have.
Blowing air into my cheeks, “I thought you’d take the single room.”
“And let that she-devil room with you?” Hina shivers. “Absolutely not.”
“She’s not that bad,” I plop down on the bed and lean back on my palms. “We don’t know her enough to make any kind of judgement.”
“Please,” Hina scoffs. She pulls her luggage over her bed and aggressively unzips it.
“I was about to tell them I’d room with you and before I could, she went on a stupid monologue about how she needs the room for her job.
” She rips out a shirt from the bag, crumpling it in her hand. “She thinks she’s better than us.”
She might be.
“Maybe over time it’ll get better,” I shrug. “She might be nervous.” I’m never myself around people the first time either.
Hina looks unimpressed. “Yes, I’m sure by the end of this we’ll have sleepovers and do each other’s makeup.”
An uncomfortable smile. I’ve never been a fan of gossiping. “You know the cameras are catching this, right?”
She throws the shirt back in the suitcase. “Let them, I don’t really care.”
Sunny would love Hina.
“Well,” she perches her hands on her hips. “Did anyone catch your attention?”
Dean, right?
Yes— no , absolutely not . Rhys is a good option. The best one there is. I know him, he knows me, we had a bit of chemistry. I think. Plus, if we’re together enough there’s a chance Irene and Austin will script some kind of romantic vibe that the outside world would love.
I need to win this damn thing, because if I don’t…
I can kiss my flowers, my happiness, and my migraine medication goodbye.
Any normal, functioning human being would want the money for their dreams—I simply want them to get through the day without pulling my hair out.
We are not the same. Similar, but different enough for one to be considered human and the other (me) to be considered an unidentified species.
The second Nadine finds out the truth, she’s locking me in her house for the rest of my days while providing me with everything I’ll need, and the thought of being cared for is burdening.
“It’s too early to say,” I answer. “But Rhys seems cool. ”
“Knock, knock.” Shaan says at the same time as he enters our room. “Sorry to interrupt, but they’re calling us downstairs.”
He lingers on Hina for a moment longer.
When he dips out, I look at her. “He has a thing for you.”
Hina’s smile says she’s used to it and that’s all I need to know.
There’s something profound about being here.
Katarina and Hina are used to getting attention from people and to be real, that’s never been my priority.
I’ve been busy finding ways to camouflage into the background, but I can feel it.
The slow wonder of what it would be like for someone to see me too.
“The first challenge of the evening is in an envelope in the letterbox outside the front door,” Irene needs to get a case for her iPad.
“It’s simple and there’s no right or wrong when it comes to playing this game.
” Every game has rights or wrongs, this one might just be hiding behind the atrocious shades of sticky rules.
It’s a good thing I used to be the kid scraping dried glue off the walls of our home with my nails.
Rosa used to pretend barf when I did, and Nadine had to spend hours cleaning each germ-infested finger.
Irene analyzes each of us and for the first time, I feel bathed, suffocated under the gaze.
It’s the expectation to do well enough for someone here—other than Dean, of course—to like me.
How can someone get under my skin so easily?
Actually, scratch that. He’s getting into the skin of my finger like an ingrown nail that needs to be surgically removed.
Except I can’t do that and now I’m horrifically, painfully aware of it digging into me.
Is he malfunctioning? Are those shiny greens meant to indicate that hey, I’m glitching and I need to be rebooted ? If so, I can do it. I’m a professional at putting people in their place .
Lie.
A jab pounces into my eyelid.
And the increasing thud bumping against my top hood. The lights are too bright, and my brain is troubleshooting. Lips are moving, sound is muted, and I want to find a dark room to hide in for the rest of the coming evening.
I could go take a pill right now, but I have—maybe three Ajovy pills and six Naproxen’s left—which means that my broke butt has to take them sparingly.
Suffer and survive. Or let everyone know that I am hobbled.
They’re listening to Irene with their perfectly-abled faces and bodies. That should tell me to pay attention, but I don’t. Suffer and survive, it is.
Why are the lights so frigging bright? It’s triggering a smoke alarm in my belly. Burnt brownies mixed with undercooked banana bread that’s about to explode in… I give it an hour. Max . If my body loves me, that is.
“…After that, you’ll be teamed up for grocery shopping to make your own food.
Teams will be decided based on who wins.
” Irene completes whatever she’s saying by handing her laptop to the purple-streaked girl.
She reminds me of the ourple meme. The one that’s like and why he ourple ? “Any questions?”
Yes, what are we doing? But no one’s opening their mouth and I’ve said enough for one day.
“Then let’s get started,” she claps her hands together. “Have fun, everyone!” Her back is to us and she’s out of eyeshot, but I can hear her speaking to someone as the front door shuts.
Just as the camera blinks red, the door rings. I look around to see what’s going on, but everyone knows.
And when Austin, behind the camera gives me a thumbs—the bit of pride in me swoons and acts like a child that got praised after being told to stop eating dirt.
Defiantly depraved. Is that a thing? If not, well… It is now.
“Are you well?”
I jump. “What?”
Dean’s voice pierces a hole into my jugular vein. Rude, I can barely function as is.
His scowl deepens. “Tell them you’re unwell.”
“I’m fine,” I look away because looking at me in that way for too long is not good for the cameras.
People will know we know each other, and I do not know this man, other than he smells how I imagine perfect masculinity to smell.
Divine, woody, a hint of sweet but not enough to be considered overpowering, with a hint of natural muskiness.
Fragrant scents usually quicken the process of a full-blown migraine, but his doesn’t smell processed. I’ll ask him for the name of it when I can look at him without picturing his face pinned to a wall and hundreds— several —of darts hitting bullseye.
The cameras zoom in on us.
Gritted teeth and forced smile. “Thanks for asking.”
Katarina walks in with a white envelope. When did she leave?
My sign to focus on the show and not the man stealing my share of oxygen next to me.
She reads: “Challenge one: Compatible or Breakable? Each pair of two will go up to the front of the room and take a seat opposite ends of the border.” What border?
Oh , they’re setting up a large wall-like cardboard in the middle of the living room right now.
One member will wear a set of noise-cancelling headphones, while the other picks up a card from the deck and recites a relationship scenario out loud to the group.
Then, partner one will describe what they would do in that situation.
After, they will switch. Partner two will then describe what they would do in the same scenario while the first participant wears the headphones. ”
Katarina looks up. Practiced emotion of shock and surprise flow through the contours of her face.
“If each member of the team says at least three of the same things, they get a point and continue playing. If they don’t, another team gets the chance to play.
” She looks back up when she says, “The winning team will decide who they’d like to go grocery shopping with. ”