Chapter 12
COLTON
It’s been a long time since I’ve bitten my nails, but I’m not used to making relationships public on live TV, especially a relationship that is as fake as the adoring smiles I’ve been sending Missy’s way since I woke yesterday morning.
It’s been nearly two days since we had “the talk,” and so far Missy’s idea of wooing me has been limited to full-tooth smiles with bits of mango in her teeth and a simple rub on the shoulder, which I accidentally flinched away from on instinct.
We’re a real-life Romeo and Juliet, and by that, I mean we’re destined for a tragic ending.
Missy pulls my hand away from my biting teeth and squeezes it as gently as a trash compactor.
She’s so loving, this girl of mine. I fight back the urge to bite another nail just to spite her, but I refocus on the task at hand and the part I must play.
Tonight is our team interview with Niall, and we can’t mess it up.
A bright-orange sun begins to set behind the same jungle platform we use for all Black Box Meetings. But this time, only our beat-up teal seats, along with Niall’s pilot’s seat, take center stage, making the setting far more intimate.
Niall’s face gets a fresh coat of powder from the makeup team, while another crew member hands him a bottle of ice-cold water with a straw. Unlike our opening interviews, the stage crew ignores me and Missy entirely, leaving us looking like the sweat-soaked, dehydrated, and hungry humans we are.
I glance over at Missy who gazes at Niall’s drink with a dazed look in her eye.
“Are you ready for this?” I say.
Missy stops drooling over the cold beverage and adjusts her posture, managing to look poised and put together despite her sunburned cheeks and the tear in her rumpled shirt sleeve.
“I’m ready.” Her face turns up with a forced smile, suggesting she’s caught the double meaning of my question.
“Good.” So am I.
I return her smile with equal fabrication. At the same time, a vision of the next five years of my career flashes before my eyes, and I can only hope Missy truly intends to go all in on our strategy to win this game.
Just then, all excess crew members clear the stage as Shannon holds up her fingers. “Cameras rolling in 3 … 2 … 1.”
“They jumped right into the waters of Mayday Challenge One, came in first during a Reward Challenge, have been attached at the wrist for two and a half grueling hours, and brought music to the set of a Black Box Meeting. It’s day seven, and this is Niall Bose, coming to you with Team Teal.”
The cameras pan in our direction, focusing in on Missy and me as we sit across from Niall.
“Missy and Colton. It’s been …Well, it’s been a ride for you two, hasn’t it?”
“It sure has,” I say, lightheartedly.
“After watching the second Mayday Challenge, it seems as if you two have some unresolved issues that are coming to light in the heat of the game.”
I laugh, genuinely happy that Niall has chosen to lean into the very point Missy and I have come prepared to address.
I shift closer to Missy, moving my arm onto her armrest until my skin is flush against hers.
A strange heat ignites my arm at the simple touch.
“You know, it’s amazing what emotions come out under pressure.
And, as is natural under adverse circumstances, Missy and I have definitely felt all the feelings since coming to Sabotage Island. ”
“That’s for sure.” Missy sends Niall a knowing smile.
“As a longtime fan, it’s so easy to sit back on my couch in the comfort of my home and think, I could do that.
I could easily work with someone else in the heat and the hunger and the long hours in between challenges.
But being here in person—it’s a wake-up call.
Sometimes things get messy. Sometimes I feel so many emotions at once I think I might burst, and sometimes, I just want to wring Colton’s neck. ”
Niall laughs as if Missy’s words are exaggerated, when I’m pretty sure they’re a hundred percent accurate. Regardless, Missy doesn’t let on.
“But …” Missy pauses for effect, doing a good job of dramatizing the narrative we crafted in the jungle last night and the night before that, making sure we got our story straight for today.
“But?” Niall prompts, urging Missy to elaborate.
Missy doesn’t answer immediately. For a moment, I wonder if she’s going to back out of our plan. Was I too hasty to believe Missy would or even could feign interest in me for the sake of the game?
“But—” Missy glances at me with a soft smile before addressing Niall. “Being this close to Colton, well, it’s given me a chance to really see him.”
“If I’m not mistaken, you’ve been friends for quite some time. How are you seeing him differently now?” Niall asks.
Missy eyes the lucky seashell she brought with her, rubbing it between her fingers on her lap. She swallows hard. Though hidden to most, Missy’s small movements are a telltale sign that she’s nervous. She’s likely doubting our plan.
C’mon, Missy. Please. You can do this, I silently plead.
“Are you by chance farsighted?” she asks Niall.
“Fortunately, I am not,” Niall says.
A stray hair escapes the bandana Missy’s used as a ponytail holder, and she tucks the strand behind her ear.
“Well, I’ve had the misfortune of being farsighted when it comes to Colton.
He’s always near me, but I’m never truly seeing him.
And this island, it’s like putting on those glasses for the first time.
Suddenly, everything is clearer—the bad and the good.
” She glances at me once more, but this time, there’s a hint of shyness as a blush spreads across her skin.
“For so long I’ve chosen to see our differences, but after the last Mayday Challenge, I realized something about Colton Downing. ”
As if unable to hold eye contact any longer, her eyes dart away from mine, and she fidgets with her shell once more.
“I realized that through my best and worst days, it’s been him who’s been next to me.
Even when we have it out, he’s there. He’s sturdy, and he’s a constant in my life.
And for that, I have a reason to be extremely grateful for him.
” Missy flicks her eyes upward, trying to hold back the literal tears forming in her eyes.
Then, unexpectedly, she gives Niall a short smile, nods, then walks off set, swiping away tears.
Whoa. She’s a better actress than I imagined.
The pauses, her words, her tears—it’s a beautiful culmination that makes this moment dramatic—exactly what reality television eats up.
When we talked strategy last night, Missy and I agreed that she’d give me a compliment during the interview to help steer viewers toward the idea of us becoming something more than friends, but her words were so much more than a simple statement—they were deep.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were even … heartfelt.
I let out a breath of air, the tightness in my chest loosening with her award-winning performance.
Leaning into the moment Missy’s curated for us, I stand with worried eyes and duck my head toward Niall, who looks completely enthralled and eager for more. Then I set off running after Missy like the besotted man I’m supposed to be.
I take the platform steps two at a time until my feet hit the sand, and I close the distance between me and Missy. She’s got her back turned toward me as she faces the gently churning waves of the turquoise ocean. Her arms hug her middle tightly as her long blonde ponytail gets tossed in the wind.
Behind me, I hear a whole camera crew scuttling around, uprooting their cameras and following after us like bees to pollen, ready to suck out whatever story they can from us. A story Missy and I are desperate to tell.
Stepping next to Missy, I place a hand on her arm, softly turning her toward me.
I’m ready to make a speech worthy of this moment, but when I glimpse Missy’s waterlogged eyes and tight lips, something feels off.
Her eyes shift and find the onslaught of camera crew members planting themselves in a half circle around us with Niall at their front.
Missy’s gaze settles on me, but her eyes won’t meet mine as she desperately tries to force her lips into a smile. But then her chin starts to quiver. It’s another Missy tell. One that’s telling me she is genuinely upset or sad, but I don’t know why.
Abandoning my speech, I lean closer to her, placing my fingers beneath her chin and tilting her face toward mine, eager to find out what’s hurt her. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says. But I’m not stupid.
If a woman says fine, it means she’s got a hundred things swirling around in her mind, none of which merit the term fine.
She makes an ugly snort, one I know she definitely wouldn’t want to be on camera if she had the choice, which confirms my suspicions. This, whatever this is, is genuine.
The pain I see in her eyes tugs at my heartstrings, and suddenly, I want to chuck all the cameras and microphones into the ocean just to give Missy a smidgeon of privacy.
Instead, the cameras creep closer to our faces, making me question if they are filming a reality game show or a skin-care commercial.
On instinct, I stretch my arms around Missy, bringing her close to me and angling her away from the prying cameras. Yes, a minute ago I wanted the cameras to catch us in an embrace, but not like this, not when I can feel Missy’s body tremble beneath my arms.
Missy leans into me, letting me hold her. I swallow, feeling the warmth of her hand against my back as she reciprocates my hug. Her response is so automatic that I can’t tell if she’s doing it for the sake of the cameras or if she genuinely wants me to be here.
A cameraman circles us, until he captures a shot of Missy’s face just as she swipes at another tear.
I can feel her stiffen as the cameraman pushes his boundaries, so I bring my arms farther up her back until they encircle her upper body, cocooning her from pushy camera operators.
But when my eyes meet the cameraman’s, it’s obvious that he can tell what I’m doing, and he isn’t happy about it.
Just to give them something else to focus on that isn’t the tears falling from Missy’s face, I rub my hands up and down her arms. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.” I still don’t understand why she’s upset, but she nods as if somehow my words are soothing to her.
And then I hear the smallest sound, barely above a whisper.
“Thank you.” Missy curls her head against my chest, and as I embrace her again, I can’t help but think how perfectly she fits into my arms. I have the strangest desire to bend down and kiss the top of her head, but the feeling is quickly overshadowed by Niall’s voice, breaking through my confused thoughts.
“Well, folks, it looks like tides are turning for Team Teal. What do you think? Will they make it to the end? Let us know by casting your votes for your favorite team by the end of the next Mayday Challenge.”