Chapter 11 #3
“I think we should”—Colton clears his throat—“become a couple … or a showmance, or whatever it’s called … for the sake of the show.”
“What?” I cough out. That is not what I thought he was going to say.
Colton does an awkward shuffle of his feet on the damp ground. “I mean, well, if you don’t already have a guy at home?”
I raise a brow. “A guy? Like a boyfriend?”
“Yes, a boyfriend.”
“No, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I want to date you.”
He blows out a breath. “Look, it’s no secret that America doesn’t exactly love us right now.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Exactly, so we need to get ahead of this. We need to find a way to climb in their votes or else we could be the next team to leave. And as much as I personally dislike this option, I know showmances can be a game-changer.”
I narrow my eyes at him, knowing which showmance he’s talking about because it’s likely the only one he’s ever seen. “Are you seriously referring to The Hunger Games?”
Colton flicks his hands out. “It worked, didn’t it?”
I rub my eyes. This can’t be happening. I mean, there is some legitimacy to what he’s saying. I’ve seen showmances make it all the way to the end of Sunsets and Sabotage before … but this is me and Colton we are talking about.
“Who doesn’t want to see a couple win?” he says.
I wince. “No, Colton. The voters saw our fight today—they know we dislike each other.”
“Well, there’s a fine line between love and hate. We can lean into that. In two days, we have our team interview with Niall. During that we can put a new light on our … relationship and clear things up.”
Clear things up—as if years of loathing could be brushed under a rug.
I try to dismiss Colton’s train of thought completely, but then I remember the acute ache in my foot that came from tonight’s Black Box Elimination.
We were one strong breeze away from being eliminated. Next time, we might not be so lucky.
I meet Colton’s eyes, taking a moment to imagine what it would be like to pretend to date him. Goosebumps slither up my arms.
Our prolonged eye contact feels like too much, and I locate Hairy. “Colton, this could be disastrous. And if we do it, it’s like lying.”
“It’s a strategy. This is a game. People don’t come on a show called Sunsets and Sabotage to fight fair.”
I purse my lips together, knowing he’s right.
“Look,” Colton says. “If there was any other option, both of us would take it, but we’re at a crossroads, and if we don’t change something fast, we’re both in trouble.”
A laugh nearly bubbles out of me. Trouble? What “trouble” will Colton be in if he loses? He won’t get a summer home in Bora Bora? He won’t get a diamond-encrusted toothbrush?
Colton steps forward. “Missy, this will work out. We’ll do it together.”
A chill grabs hold of my spine, freezing me in place. Colton’s words transport me right back to Mama’s mobile home. We’ll do it together. She promised. And I’d trusted. I’d trusted her with all that I was, and in the end, it was just me, alone, without her. A broken promise, with a broken heart.
I step away from Colton, every inch back radiating pain through my sore foot. “I can’t, Colton. I—I just can’t.” My hands start to tremble, and I clasp them tightly in front of me.
Colton’s face scrunches in confusion as I step away from him.
This was nothing short of a terrible idea. We’ll find another way. There must be another way.
I turn and start to pad my way back to the plane over rocks and knobby roots when I hear Colton follow after me. “Missy, Niall once asked what I was here for, and I didn’t tell him the truth … not fully anyway.”
I stop but don’t turn back. “That isn’t news to me.”
“Missy, I know there isn’t much trust between us. But just hear me out, because despite what you likely think about me, I have a lot at stake in this game.”
His words pique my curiosity, so I turn to face him, trampling a few leaves beneath my feet as I do.
Colton puts up his hands like he’s stepping toward a wild horse. “If you can’t trust me, that’s fine, but trust that I have a reason for being here, and I’ll do anything to win. Which means I’ll do anything for us to win.”
I look him dead in the eyes. “If all you’re saying is true, then tell me, what could possibly motivate you enough to win this game if it means you and I will … Well, we’ll have to …”
“Be in a relationship,” Colton finishes.
“Ack. Yes, that.” I cross my arms over my chest.
Colton stares at me for a long moment, and I can practically see his mind at war with itself. Then his eyes shift away from me, staring off into the darkened jungle. “I made a deal.”
My eyebrows pinch together. “A deal?”
“Yes. With my dad.” Colton swallows, looking guilty as sin.
“What kind of deal?”
He blows out a deep breath and rubs the scruff of his chin. “A while ago, my dad and I had an argument about my future. He wanted me to work for his old law firm, and I had other opportunities I wanted to explore.”
Colton says it all so matter-of-factly, but I can only imagine his dad did not take kindly to that idea. A memory of Senator Downing’s disappointed face at the airport comes to mind. Despite the fact that his son would be gone for a couple of weeks, he’d sent him off with nothing but coldness.
“He doesn’t think I can succeed without him.” Colton lets out a humorless chuckle. “Looks like you’re not the only one who thinks that.”
A sudden pain strikes my gut. While it’s true that I have thought that about Colton many times before, it’s different when your own flesh and blood believes it. I know all too well what it feels like to be a disappointment to your own kin.
“But I didn’t agree with Dad, so he proposed a deal.” He scratches his shoulder, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but here at the moment. “If I win this show, he’ll support my decision to work in whatever practice I want.”
“And if you lose?” I hold my breath.
Colton stares at the ground. “Then I’ll have to work for my dad’s old law firm for the next five years.”
“Five years!” I exclaim.
“Shh.” Colton holds a finger to his lips and looks around, making sure I didn’t just alert everyone to our whereabouts.
“Five years,” I whisper, eyes wide with shock. “Colton, why on earth would you make a deal like that?”
He tilts his head back, looking up into the shadowy canopy of leaves.
“For a moment there, I thought I could have it all. I thought I could choose my own path and still have my dad’s respect.
” Colton’s eyes finally connect with mine.
“But as soon as we made the deal, Dad smiled, and reality hit. The only reason he would be remotely happy about our deal was if he genuinely believed I would fail.”
Colton nods as if accepting this truth. He’s already told me all I need to know, and yet I want him to say more.
“All my life I’ve been trying to prove I am capable, only for Dad to believe so little of me. I guess in making the deal, it was my way of proving him wrong,” he finishes.
The air around us feels like glass, framing this fragile moment.
Colton doesn’t open up easily, especially not to me.
He’s trained to keep his emotions pent up inside of him.
He’s never too sad or too happy; he’s just neutral.
But right now, I feel like I’m looking through a kaleidoscope of Colton, seeing the bits and fragments of his life from a new angle.
“Colton, I’m sorry.” Instinctively, I think of reaching for his arm, wanting to show him he’s not alone, but he steps back before I can.
A smile rises and falls too quickly on his lips. His stance straightens. And I feel a wall shut me out. “It’s life.” He shrugs. “And now you know why I want to win.”
I bite my lip, mulling over his words and thinking about his earlier suggestion—the showmance. I might not trust Colton, but I can trust that he’s a Downing. And a Downing always fights for their future.
For some reason, I feel infinitely better about his crazy plan, especially knowing now that both of us have skin in this game, not just me. “Okay.”
Colton’s eyes flash. “Okay, what?”
“I’ll do it.” I nod. “I’ll be a couple with you.”
“Are you serious?”
I stick out my hand and he shakes it, and suddenly I feel like this might work. Both of us are going to fight for what we want, and if I have to fake date Colton to get there, then so be it.
Colton looks at me with a glint in his eye. “Just for the record, I’d play a darn good Peeta.” He smiles, baiting me.
“Good. ’Cause for the record, I was never Team Peeta. Finnick Odair for me,” I say before turning and making my way to the airplane, mentally preparing myself for the days ahead.