Nice Try, Jane Sinner

by Lianne Oelke

  Everything is clean but old, and the carpet is stained with god knows what. Possibly cat pee, since an overweight cat named Hinkfuss lives here too. The whole basement smells like old vegetables and must. It could be worse.

  The girl in the room next to me listens to Meghan Trainor and Iggy Azelea and Nickelback. I could forgive the first two, but we share a cardboard wall. Chad Kroeger has no place in my room. Maybe she is cleverer than she looks, and this is all part of her game plan. In which case: credit where credit is due. She wears a thick layer of orange foundation, and every time I look at her I want to scrape it off with a credit card and vomit. Also, her name is Chanel or Shawntel or Chaunt’Elle or something else unnatural. I don’t think we can ever be friends.

  The guy across the hall seems all right. He’s very alert. And physically unbalanced. Maybe it’s the puffy vest and the skinny jeans over toothpick legs and the isosceles triangle nose that sticks out like a sail. I think one strong gust of wind will tip him over. We’ll see.

  I haven’t seen much of the other roommates yet—​everyone has been coming and going all day. Which is fine with me. When I wake up, the cameras will be on. I want to be ready.

  SunMar20

  CAMERAS ON.

  We had the official introductions today. Alexander Park insisted we wear Elbow River shirts. I thought he meant the #HASHTAGS shirts, but no. These ones had that We Can Do It! woman from old war propaganda posters, along with the words #ELBOWGREASE printed in bold letters. The shirt is the worst kind of cheap: lumpy, thick cotton with a too-tight collar and stiff graphic that will bend and crack in a million places before the end of the night. I never thought I’d rather drown in a puddle of my own vomit than wear a T-shirt. But I wore it.

  All six of us (plus Alexander Park and a couple of HOOcaps) crowded into the living room after AP showed us where all the cameras were. There is a camera (a GoPro, really) in each bedroom, but only half of each bedroom is in the shot. AP explained when exactly we have to be home, and for how long. The first voting ceremony and the first episode won’t take place for a few weeks. Whoever is voted out will have to pack up and leave the next day. Sometime before the voting ceremony, we’ll have a prize challenge and an immunity challenge. He won’t tell us what to expect, though people kept asking, but I’m not worried about challenges yet.

  My goal for now is simple: not to be the crazy bitch/douchebag/whiner/girl who cries at everything. Every reality show has one. That person never makes it to the end.

  Besides Chaunt’Elle and Nose (whose name is actually Robbie), there is Marc, Raj, and Holly.

  Raj and Holly are returning chemistry students in an advanced year-round program, Chaunt’Elle is taking general studies (she’s new to Elbow River as well, but she must be in her mid-twenties), Robbie is a new commerce student apparently planning on summer school because he “likes” it, and I have no idea what Marc’s deal is. He looks nearly forty, so he should be too old for this shit. I have a feeling he’s the crazy bitch. I told them I want to study psychology but I have to upgrade a few high school courses at the same time. I don’t know if it works like that, but no one said anything.

  One of the HOOcaps made spaghetti, and the six of us ate together for the first time. Alexander Park was clever and bought a case of beer beforehand, but even with the alcohol, things were subdued. I doubt he’ll have much usable footage of that dinner, unless he was hoping for awkward silences and embarrassing eye contact. I think Chaunt’Elle was nervous. She talked quickly and fingered her hair and was unnaturally neat eating her spaghetti. She’s acting like a high school kid excited to hang out with college boyz. I would know. But of course I don’t want to act like I’m the youngest one here, because I definitely am.

  Holly seems ridiculously shy. The color of her cheeks speaks for her half the time, and it’s almost painful to watch. I don’t know what she has to be shy about, though. Raj won’t shut up about how smart she is. Raj is quite the charmer.

  I think the only other person here as cautious as me is Robbie. He ate neatly too, using a fork and knife on his garlic toast, sitting quietly. Watching. He’s the one to look out for, I think.

  After supper we watched TV and played card games. More beer came out, and the ice finally broke. I suppose we have Marc to thank for that. He chipped away at it all night, flirting with the jittery Chaunt’Elle and making us laugh with stupid, self-deprecating jokes. He may be a crazy bitch, but at least he’s an amusing one. I can’t dislike someone who doesn’t take himself seriously.

  Marc got drunk, of course, and Chaunt’Elle, Raj, and Holly were a little tipsy. I can hold my liquor, but I don’t want everyone to know that yet, so I only had a couple. I was also afraid the alcohol would set my cheeks on fire, nervous as I was. Like poor Holly. Robbie didn’t drink at all. It felt like a high school party (or at least like the only high school party I was brave enough to attend, thanks to Bonnie), with beer cans littered on the shag carpet and food everywhere and nervous stupidity floating around.

  AP pulled each of us aside to a den he calls “the Elbow Room” and did a confessional-style interview, getting our first impressions. I didn’t have much to tell him.

  Before I went to sleep I spent an hour chatting with Bonnie on Facebook. I think she’s more interested than I am in watching this show. She said she’s excited for me and wants me to ruthlessly destroy the competition. I miss seeing her every day.

  Marc just came downstairs complaining about the asshole who clogged the upstairs toilet. Complaining way too loudly to be innocent. I made the mistake of leaving my curtain open this evening and caught a glimpse of Marc in nothing but his briefs. It was quite startling.

  He’s been in the bathroom for half an hour now, and I can hear everything, including his plea for someone to bring him a roll of toilet paper.

  I don’t know what to do.

  Some instinct tells me to turn on Hillsong or MercyMe, close my eyes, and pray until it’s over. Perhaps if I spent more time in my childhood socializing with secular children instead of praying when I felt uncomfortable, I’d be better equipped to handle this situation.

  It’s only my second night here and already I’m wishing I had a proper door and window, because whatever Marc did to our bathroom didn’t stay in our bathroom.

  MonMar21

  A HOOcap had to tell Marc to put on his mike twice this afternoon. Half an hour later Raj ordered pizza. He flirted with the delivery girl for a good five minutes before Marc slid next to him like a greasy-ass uncle and assaulted the poor driver with his eyes and weird chin nods.

  RAJ

  [whispering]

  Come on, bro!

  The moment was ruined when the HOOcap asked the delivery girl to sign a release form so they could use footage of her on the show. She declined.

  Nothing else especially interesting happened today. Or yesterday for that matter. I wonder how long this will continue before the Gamemakers set a fire to flush us out of our rooms so we’ll fight to the death in the common area. I mean, interact in the common area.

  TueMar22

  I have to work tonight. It will be my first shift while living here, so I’ll have to figure out which bus to take. Stocking groceries isn’t the most exciting job, but it will pay for rent and cake. Now that I’m a college student, I wish I had a job that’s a little more romantic. Like a barista or waitress or librarian. Maybe one day.

  WedMar23

  AP officially launched the House of Orange website today, complete with an episode schedule, bonus material, comment forums, and a brief bio of each contestant.

  For each bio, he used the headshots he took yesterday, info from each application form, and individualized taglines he pulled from his ass.

  Holly

  High school valedictorian and field hockey captain. The all-Canadian girl-next-door who has nothing left to prove. Or does she?

  Robbie

  Quick thinker with a good head for numbers. Cleans his soccer cleats daily.

>   Raj

  Chemistry badass. Like Walter White but less of a dick. Great smile. No meth.

  Chaunt’Elle

  Loves animals and only eats the ugly ones. Sugar and spice and usually she’s nice.

  Marc

  Self-proclaimed hedonist. Disliked hipsters before they weren’t cool.

  Sinner

  Budding psychologist with unclear motivations. Existential angst in its purest form.

  He used a photo of me mid-laugh. One of those rare gems that capture my sparkling eyes and bubbly personality.

  ThuMar24

  Holly and I went out for lunch. I invited Raj, too, because I was worried Holly wouldn’t talk otherwise, but Raj was in the middle of a computer game. Halo or Minesweeper or something.

  JS

  So. Any idea how you’re going to play the game?

  Holly blushed.

  HOLLY

  Oh, I don’t know. You?

  I saw a little bit of myself in her nervousness. So I pretended I was Bonnie, just to break the ice.

  JS

  Flash my boobs to the camera and hope for the best.

  She gave the tiniest of obligatory laughs.

  JS

  You and Raj seem close. Have you known each other long?

  HOLLY

  Um. A year.

  Holly reminded me of the way I feel when I’m with a friend of Bonnie’s, when Bonnie goes for a smoke and I panic inside because I can’t think of a single thing to say that doesn’t sound like utter trash-crap. The last thing I want to do is tell Holly how quiet she is. People tell me that and it makes me want to punch them in the face.

  JS

  So, are we getting dessert?

  HOLLY

  No, thanks.

  Her response sounded automatic. I realized she had ordered the cheapest sandwich on the menu, and I’ve only ever seen her eat no-name-brand food at home. Maybe this is none of my business, but Holly’s got to have a reason for attending community college while signing up for a show that provides cheap rent.

  JS

  My treat.

  HOLLY

  Oh, Jane, you don’t have to! I’m okay, really. It’s so nice of you to offer, though.

  I’m not nice. Holly’s the nice one, which means she’s not going to last on this show. There’s no way I’m going to let her last longer than me. Especially not until I’ve had the chance to prove I’m not like her. Not now.

  I went grocery shopping with Chaunt’Elle and Robbie after they came home this evening. The experience of choosing and paying for all my groceries was extremely satisfying. I bought cereal and orange juice and apples and a discount cake that reads HAPPY BIRTDAY JIMMY. Hurrah for breakfast foods!

  ROBBIE

  You’re buying that cake for everyone?

  JS

  No.

  ROBBIE

  You’re going to eat all that yourself?

  I tried to come up with something sassy to say, but somehow my brain had become a mess of thick and tangled thoughts.

  JS

  Yes.

  ROBBIE

  You don’t think that’s kind of . . . gross?

  I got the feeling that Robbie thinks a lot of things are gross.

  JS

  Who cares? I just moved out of my parents’ place, and I’m ready to embrace my newfound freedom by exploring new dietary options.

  That’s not actually what I said. What I said was “No.”

  FreeForAllFridayFridgeMar25

  I went for a run this morning in my old gym shorts, with a Tim Hortons gift card (a parting gift from the parents; they believe in well-caffeinated students) tucked inside my hoodie. I ran for half an hour, stopped for coffee, then took my time walking home. It’s odd to think of this house as “home.” It was about noon when I got back, and I was planning on having a piece or two of BIRTDAY cake for breakfast.

  The fridge was empty.

  Several icing-smeared plates sat innocently on the counter, and half of the plastic container stuck out of the garbage can.

  Just then Raj walked in and placed another icing-smeared plate on the counter. I glared at him. He gave me his most charming smile.

  RAJ

  What?

  JS

  . . .

  RAJ

  Fair’s fair. It’s in the rules.

  JS

  What rules?

  RAJ

  On the fridge.

  I closed the fridge and quickly read the small printed note pinned under a magnet.

  FREE-FOR-ALL FRIDAY FRIDGE

  In the interest of space conservation and the prevention of food expiration, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY anything in the fridge is fair game on Fridays.

  JS

  So everyone helped themselves to a piece of my cake, because Alexander Park said so.

  RAJ

  Right. Actually, I had two pieces.

  He shrugged as if to say, “Oops!”

  JS

  (You bastard.)

  I know I signed away my right to peace and quiet and a bedroom door. But I draw the line at food. At cake. If Bonnie were in my place, she’d have it out with Raj here and now and let that serve as a warning to everyone else. I can’t afford to act like that; I’m in this for the long haul. I don’t want to come across as unstable. I didn’t say anything else. I just looked at Raj again (I hope I told him “If you touch my food again, I’ll cut you” with my eyes) and went downstairs to shower. Game on.

  I spent the afternoon playing video games with Raj and Holly. In all fairness, they’re not the worst people I’ve ever met. We might even be friends, under different circumstances. But I’m not here to make friends. Shouldn’t be too hard.

  SatMar26

  I got paid yesterday, so I bought Bonnie lunch for driving me to and from the northeast to pick up a used mini-fridge I found on Craigslist. I wanted to invite her over afterward, but that would involve paperwork and awkwardness. Bonnie is the only person I’ve told about House of Orange so far. I’m still not comfortable with everyone from James Fowler watching my life play out on the internet. HOO is for the people who don’t know my backstory.

  I was hoping to use that forty dollars I spent on the fridge for more cake and coffee and granola bars, but I think it’s wise to invest in a little food security. I wish there was another outlet in my room so I could keep it downstairs, but I only have the one, and there is no space on the power bar. The mini-fridge fits in the corner of the kitchen, which is fine.

  MonMar28

  The Day Before Classes Start. I’ve got to psych myself up. Lols lols lols pun. The parents called, and I went outside, away from the cameras, to talk to them. Would have felt weird otherwise. They’re concerned and proud and worried that living on my own while starting college might “just all be too much for you right now,” but they’re praying for me. Thanks.

  TueMar29

  What I’m enjoying most right now is the anonymity, which I haven’t experienced in a while. I’ll enjoy it while it lasts. No one here knows who I am or what I did in high school, and so far no one treats me differently from any other glassy-eyed freshman. When the students here learn my name, it won’t be for the wrong reasons. This almost feels like a fresh start.

  All together I have Intro Psych, Western History, Intro Sociology, and Math, as well as Bio. Might as well get that one over with. But in general, looking good.

  I took strange pleasure in sitting at the back of a tiered lecture hall. I don’t think that will ever get old.

  WedMar30

  This afternoon I sat on a wooden bench and read a textbook in the dappled sunlight while drinking chocolate milk and talking to students who don’t act like they are five years older than me, even though they are. I spent three hours like that and loved my life. Well, not really, but close enough.

  I need to psychoanalyze myself for Intro Psych. I’m not sure how that’s possible; the prof was rather vague on the specifics in class today. I was also caught up in a doodle
of my hand. I outlined my hand on my notes because the notes were ugly and otherwise useless. I layered the inside with different-colored gel pens until the outline was fairly thick. In the middle of the hand I drew toasters and toast. The whole thing came together really well. One of my better efforts. But I’m not sure how to psychoanalyze myself. I suppose I’ll have to be both the doctor and the patient. Maybe the two of me can come up with some profoundly insightful insight.