Chapter Fourteen
Allie wasn’t particularly good at being patient. Especially not when her position in this game felt like it was hanging on by the flimsiest, most unreliable of threads.
Two nights ago, Connie and Margaret stood before Vivian at The Sending, and in the end, Connie had gone home.
Allie had breathed out a quiet relief that the first step of Barra’s plan had worked out.
A plan Barra had successfully pitched to Toph and Tilly, and then to Elodie and Anna.
“We really need to get Connie out,” Barra had said while they were gathering new shells to replace the old shells everyone used to eat the rice.
“In the first season she’d slithered her way to the end, and no one had seen it coming. ”
Tilly had picked up a small, spiral-shaped shell with caramel ridges running along its curve. “We should get Sutton out first. She’s unpredictable.”
Toph had shaken her head. “We do what Barra says.”
Tonight was step two of the grand plan. Eliminate Sutton. Yesterday’s reward challenge had gone to Valerie and Margaret, which had only made Sutton more unbearable.
Allie was dreading The Sending, even though logically she had no reason to.
The protection bracelet was still safe and sound, buried deep in her backpack.
She’d checked it twice before leaving for The Sending.
Then, once more, just in case. She could easily play it if she needed to.
Or she could keep it and hold on to that sliver of control for later.
But that all depended on how well she could read the room.
“Valerie,” Vivian said, directing her attention toward the front row.
“How does it feel to be back in the game?” Her hands were, as always, clasped neatly in front of her.
Above them, the sunset bled through the branches in streaks of gold and pink.
“Not only are you paired up with Margaret, but the two of you won the reward challenge yesterday.”
Valerie flicked her long black hair over her shoulder.
The strands were sleek and shiny. She smiled like a woman who had spent an afternoon enjoying a rainfall shower that cleansed not just her skin but her soul too.
Last night Valerie had relayed the reward to them in explicit detail.
How they’d indulged in mimosas, ravaged tire-sized margarita pizzas, and stuffed chocolate lava cakes into their remaining stomach spaces.
Allie, however, hadn’t cared a bit about the food.
She wanted to know everything about the shower.
What did the soap smell like? A clean smell, obviously, but that meant nothing.
Was it zesty like the Claus Porto Citrino soap that Allie didn’t mind spending thirty dollars on, or did it have more of an earthy smell like Aesop’s Geranium Leaf body scrub Allie used twice weekly?
There were oils too? No fricken way. Allie could almost feel the oil sinking into her skin. She’d imagined warming a few drops between her palms before sweeping the oil slowly along her arms, wrists to shoulders. Heavenly was the only word she could think of to describe what that would feel like.
“It feels fantastic, Vivian,” Valerie said, grinning. “It’s honestly funny to think that just a few days ago someone here was very determined to vote me out.” She let that hang for a second. Not that she needed to. Everyone knew who she was referring to.
Sutton included. She cleared her throat as if something had lodged itself there and refused to move. Allie didn’t blame her. Valerie wasn’t just aiming the gun at Sutton; she’d already locked in and had her finger firmly on the trigger.
“But I’m here,” Valerie added lightly. “Very much still in the game.”
“Are you speaking about someone specific?” Vivian asked, cocking her head to the side as if this was brand new information. “Because it sounds to me like there might be something unresolved here.”
Valerie laced her fingers together and rested them on her knee. “I guess I haven’t been particularly shy about my feelings toward Sutton,” she said. “You could say there’s a bit of tension between us.”
“Tension?” Sutton said before Vivian could push further. She then let out a short laugh that bordered on menacing. This felt less Outlast Her and more Jerry Springer. “That’s generous.”
And it was generous. The night before, Valerie had stood with her back to Sutton as if she didn’t exist. Which, for Sutton, who survived on attention, was probably the equivalent of oxygen deprivation.
“You’re right,” Valerie said, not looking at Sutton. In fact, her gaze was directed squarely ahead. “I guess I should call it what it is... there’s unfinished business between us.”
Sutton leaned forward, her entire body angling toward Valerie. “What do you mean unfinished business?” she asked, her voice a fraction higher than usual.
Valerie met Sutton’s gaze, and Allie immediately berated herself for taking the wooden log in the back row. This was front row seats kind of action.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Valerie said, narrowing her eyes slightly. Then, suddenly, she was singing, “So, baby, pull me closer in the backseat of your Rover. That I know you can’t afford, bite the tattoo on your shoulder...”
Wait. Were those the lyrics of Closer by The Chainsmokers?
But Allie wasn’t nearly as stunned that she’d managed to recognize the song by just a few lines as she was by the small gasp that escaped Sutton’s throat. Allie leaned forward just in time to see Sutton’s mouth pull into a perfect, horrified oval.
“Shit,” Sutton muttered, raising a hand to her mouth. A hand she kept there as she mumbled against her palm. “Your hair was short. And you—” She blinked, studying Valerie like she was trying to reconcile two completely different people. “You look different.”
Valerie smiled, but it was the opposite of kind. This time a chill ran down Allie’s spine. The atmosphere had switched from a Jerry Springer show to a Stephen King novel.
“You left me in that hotel room,” Valerie said. “Room 417 at the Saint Louis. We ordered a bottle of 2012 Chateau Margaux as if it were cheap wine, and you insisted we needed three dozen oysters and truffle fries. We played The Chainsmokers all night and neither of us wore any clothes for hours.”
Sutton’s face crumpled. Allie had to lean all the way forward to see this and even took to resting her hands on Toph’s shoulders for support. She waited for Sutton to snap a reply, but she said nothing. Nothing.
“And in the morning, you were gone,” Valerie went on, her voice dangerously smooth.
“You left before I got out of the shower.” A pause.
Not that she even needed to pause. This was more dramatic than when Allie’s friend Missy got stalked by her ex-boyfriend on Instagram.
“I found out the room hadn’t been paid for, neither had the champagne or oysters, even though you explicitly told me you’d been promoted to senior brand director of Ion Yoga and the entire evening was on you.
I didn’t even want to go to that hotel. That much less expensive hotel on St. Charles would’ve been perfectly fine, but you insisted. ”
A few eyebrows shot up. Allie’s included. She could hardly believe that Sutton had dined and ditched.
“I was a few months from finishing grad school,” Valerie went on. “I was completely broke and burdened with loans. My parents were dealing with my mom’s hospital bills at the time, so there wasn’t exactly a bailout option waiting for me.”
Allie clicked her tongue disappointingly. She couldn’t believe this.
“So I had to work it off,” Valerie added. “Two days in the hotel’s kitchen washing dishes. It should’ve taken a week to clear the cost, but the manager took pity on me after I told them what happened.”
Allie turned to Barra to catch her eye and expected her to look appalled, but Barra was smiling. Smiling? Really? Before Allie could ask her if she was momentarily malfunctioning, Barra leaned in closer and whispered, “I don’t think you’ll need that protection bracelet tonight after all.”
The thought was like climbing into an ice bath on a hot day. Painfully pleasant. Barra was right. Valerie’s beef with Sutton might be the perfect storm. Unless, of course, Sutton apologized. But who was Allie kidding, Sutton had already dug herself a shallow grave.
Sutton cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. She looked like she was physically willing herself to appear unbothered. It was a wonder she could see anything with her chin lifted so high. “Well, at least you learned a skill,” she said stiffly.
And there it was, the final nail in Sutton’s coffin.
Allie felt a weight fall off her shoulders. Surely she wouldn’t need to play her protection bracelet. Surely everyone would vote for Sutton to go home after this.
“Well, ladies,” Vivian said, smiling as if she couldn’t quite believe what had just unfolded, what she’d just witnessed.
Frankly, Allie couldn’t either. Wasn’t it entirely ironic that Sutton had slept with Valerie despite being the one to make that stupid speech on their very first day out here?
“I think that might be everything for tonight. Unless anyone has anything else that they’d like to get off their chest.”
Silence.
Not a single person moved.
“Okay then, it’s time to vote,” Vivian said.
ALLIE WAS STILL PLAYING tonight’s Sending over in her head.
Not only had Sutton gone home, but the decision had been unanimous.
Instead of dropping stones into cups, Elodie had stood up and suggested they all do a show of hands.
Vivian had okayed the whole thing, and a minute later, everyone who had wanted to see Sutton go home had their hands in the air.
A moment never before seen in the game. A moment that looped and looped behind her eyes and refused to let her sleep.
She turned her head. It was the second night since the game started that Barra had chosen to sleep beside her.
Or more so, it was Allie who had orchestrated the entire thing by putting her backpack next to Barra’s and quickly laying out her hoodie as a pillow before Toph could get there.
Toph, luckily, hadn’t fought her. She’d just smiled and let it happen.
Barra’s mouth was slightly open. Her brows were faintly pulled together like something in her dreams was making her frown. To Allie, she looked as adorable as a puppy.
Without thinking, Allie reached over to smooth out the crease between Barra’s eyebrows with her thumb. She’d barely touched her forehead before Barra opened her eyes and blinked sleepily.
Allie nearly snapped her head back, but she didn’t.
She just stared at Barra, who blinked again.
Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, she smiled.
A soft, sleepy smile that made Allie’s chest feel fuzzy and her lips quirk up.
Then one arm slid across Allie’s waist, and before Allie had time to process the movement, she was being gently pulled onto her side.
Barra settled in behind her.
Allie was so aware of Barra’s forearm across her middle, her hand resting low at her stomach, that she nearly forgot to breathe.
She couldn’t remember the last time someone held her like this.
If ever. She pulled air into her lungs like she was sipping through a straw and nestled in closer.
Barra curled her fingers against Allie’s stomach and nudged her knee behind Allie’s legs, closing whatever small distance remained.
Allie felt her body mold perfectly to Barra’s.
It was too delicious not to imagine a blank canvas, to pick up that figurative paintbrush and start something she wasn’t sure she’d ever finish.
She’d go full Jenny Saville with the fleshy female figures, two bodies pressed together, except Allie would dissolve the edges where Barra began and Allie ended, and she’d drag in deeper tones.
Then she would soften the light across Barra’s chest and catch the slight indent of Barra’s fingers in her stomach.
She pinched her eyes shut until spots filled every inch of her vision, and when she opened them again, the painting was gone.
Just like this moment would be gone when the sun rose over the horizon, and they’d wake up with a normal-sized gap between them.
Allie would probably be on her back, Barra turned onto her side, facing away, and they’d be back to being whatever they were supposed to be in the daylight.
But Allie didn’t know if she really wanted just that anymore.
She was tired of slipping past the camera crew at midnight and ducking behind trees only to stop the kiss whenever a branch snapped or a sound stopped them from what they were doing.
Allie was beginning to think maybe she wanted something else.
It was beginning to feel like she wanted something more than just sex.
Something that she hadn’t wanted before, like a life with Barra outside of this game.
Barra’s breath hit the back of her neck as she pulled Allie even closer.
Allie’s thoughts scattered like a frightened squirrel.
She didn’t even really know what she wanted.
Her romantic conquests had always been limited to bathroom hookups, fancy hotels, and at most, two-night stands.
So, she closed her eyes and gave in to the fuzzy pull of sleep.