by Lianne Oelke
WILL
It’s okay, I know you’re not one to talk about your feelings in the open.
JS
I don’t have feelings. For you.
Now, Bonnie—I know you are probably feeling a little sorry for Will at this point, and maybe that’s fair, but you have to understand that Will is not the sort of guy I’d want the world to assume I’m dating. I know you are probably thinking I’d say that about almost any guy, and again, that’s fair. But Will is an unfortunate combination of sensitivity and stupidity, and it freaks me out at the best of times.
WILL
You know, I’ve always been one of your biggest supporters. I know it must be tough to have your life scrutinized, and I just want you to know that I’m always around to talk. If you need to. I’m here.
JS
I have nothing to talk about.
WILL
Of course you do.
He put his hand on my arm. Unconsciously, I think.
JS
No.
I removed his hand once again.
JS
I have to go now.
WILL
Where?
JS
I don’t know. Elsewhere.
WILL
I know the cameras are on and everything, but you don’t have to be so dramatic.
He paused before calling “Happy Birthday, Jane!” as I walked away. I knew Alexander Park would enjoy that little episode of awkwardness. That’s not the story I wanted to tell you though. That was just the context.
Another hour and a couple conversations later I was able to duck outside. I was hoping for some time alone to regroup mentally. I found Robbie out there instead, which was also nice. We talked for a few minutes. I don’t remember what we talked about, exactly. Doesn’t matter. I relaxed for the first time tonight.
Then Will came charging down the sidewalk and punched Robbie in the face.
My first thought was to see if the cameras caught it. They didn’t. No one saw. My second thought was simply What the fuck? I froze. I’m pretty sure my face was stuck in resting bitch position, like a movie paused on the worst possible frame. The three of us stood there for a very uncomfortable moment before Will trotted back down the street. R wasn’t bleeding and there were no teeth on the ground—he must have turned away at the right moment. I had no idea what to say to him.
JS
I’m sorry this happened to you.
I hated myself for saying it as soon as the words came out. R touched his forehead.
R
Yeah. It’s all right.
I didn’t have a clue what he was thinking. I was watching him closely, struggling to figure out what to make of all this, when the door opened and a HOOcap came out.
HOOCAP
Jane, Alexander needs you back inside. We need at least one more interview.
JS
I don’t think . . . I’d rather . . .
HOOCAP
I’m not supposed to say anything, but there is a cake, too.
JS
[Sigh.]
R
You should go back inside. Really. You should go.
And so I went back inside and ate cake like the gluttonous coward I am.
When I got home, Robbie had his door closed and his lights off. I went outside and tried calling you, but I guess you were busy. Now I’m sitting at my desk, eating M&M’s, wondering what I should be feeling because I’m not nearly as drunk as I’d like to be. I suppose the story ends here. Tidy endings are overrated.
Sincerely,
Jane
PS. If you feel, as I do, that these events (although quite eloquently accounted for in the above description) require further discussion, call me.
In retrospect, I should have asked if he was okay.
At least the house is quiet tonight. Chaunt’Elle fell asleep as soon as she got home, and I don’t think Marc is here. He probably took full advantage of the free drinks and passed out on a bench somewhere.
TueJun7
Bonnie called this morning and we had a nice chat, but Robbie won’t talk to me. He said he was running late as he ate breakfast, and of course it was bullshit; he’s never run late in his life. Maybe he thinks I’m dangerous to be with. Maybe he doesn’t think dangerous is sexy. Maybe he blames me. I don’t think that’s fair, but if I can’t talk to him, I can’t explain myself. Do I have anything to explain? Bonnie and I ended up laughing about the whole thing on the phone, but I feel like shit now.
It took me longer than it should have to think it through. AP didn’t answer his phone all day, and the HOOcaps wouldn’t tell me where he was. I went to the film department and asked around, but he didn’t have class today. I thought about going to my own class, but the echo of Will’s fist hitting Robbie’s face was too distracting. Eventually I found AP lounging in Jenna’s living room.
JS
You took things way too far last night.
AP
It was just a party, Jane. Don’t tell me you don’t like parties.
JS
I’m talking about Will.
AP
Ah.
JS
What did you say to him? Did you bribe him or something?
AP
I didn’t have to bribe him. He was sincere. He just wanted a chance to talk with you. You could have been nicer to him, but it’s more interesting when you’re not.
JS
I could have been nicer? You’re the asshole who got Robbie punched in the face.
AP
What?
JS
Don’t tell me you didn’t set that up.
AP
I did not set that up.
JS
. . .
AP
If I set it up, where were the cameras? Where was the reaction from the crowd?
JS
. . .
AP
I never told Will to do that. What would the point be, if I didn’t film it?
I hated that AP made sense—it deflated my righteous indignation.
AP
Is Robbie okay, though?
JS
Probably. I think he’s pissed at me.
AP
That’s too bad.
I doubt he meant that.
I went for another run tonight. Ran for kilometers and didn’t get anywhere.
We all spent the evening in our own respective rooms. R is definitely pissed at me. It sucks. I love drama, but only when it happens to other people. R and I would be having a great time with this story if someone else had been punched for some other reason.
WedJun8
I think we’re okay now. He said good morning to me, at least.
There was supposed to be another episode tonight but things are busy with the end of the term coming up, so AP is delaying it to next week. R and I took the opportunity to go on a Slurpee run instead. We came home to find a large box sitting in the middle of the living room. The label on the box read:
WALLACE & BEANZ
Instant Coffee Ind. Packs x 1000
Robbie wanted to get an X-Acto knife from his bedroom to open the box, but I told him that would be a waste of thirty seconds. I butchered the box with my house key. He was worried I’d damage whatever was inside, because at that point we didn’t believe the box contained one thousand packets of instant coffee. Turns out it did. After we took out all the packaging and opened the clear plastic bags, we dumped everything onto the floor, because why not? I handed Robbie one packet at a time, starting with the red packets and ending with purple, and he laid them all out on the living room floor in a beautiful and massive spiral. Each packet was placed the same exact distance from the next. Robbie has a good eye for symmetry. There were only 988 packets in the box, but they covered a good part of the floor. We sat there and stared at them for a while. It was nice. Robbie sat with his skinny elbows resting on his skinny legs, wearing a cable-knit sweater and red pants. His hair was messy, though I c
ould tell he had tried to tame it.
After we stared at the floor for a while, Robbie made us tea because we were sick of the idea of coffee. We left the mega-spiral and went downstairs and sat on my bed. The basement was empty except for us. Robbie made my tea too sweet, but it was nice all the same.
R
Marc has the immunity idol, so someone from the Basement Alliance is going home.
JS
I know.
Robbie held his teacup in his lap and looked at his feet.
R
Who are you voting for, then?
JS
Chaunt’Elle, of course.
R
Why “of course”?
We made eye contact and held it for a couple seconds or a couple minutes. It doesn’t matter. We looked away at the same time.
JS
I always assumed it would be the two of us at the end.
R
Me too.
Robbie placed his teacup in his saucer and wiped off a bead of tea with his thumb. I should have cleaned up the dishes and dirty bras scattered across my desk before inviting him into my room.
JS
Is it very hard for you, living here? With all the people and all the mess?
R
Yeah. But it doesn’t bother me as much as it used to.
JS
Really?
R
I take it each day at a time. It’s better to face the things you don’t like. Get them over and done with so you can move on with your life.
JS
I agree.
Hinkfuss jumped on the bed and sat between us, rubbing her face on R’s pants. R picked off the cat hairs and rolled them between his fingers.
JS
Just throw them on the floor.
He walked to the garbage can instead.
R
I just don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask that people clean up after themselves. And I can’t be the only one who doesn’t like a dirty kitchen.
JS
Oh my god.
R
What?
JS
It was you! All the notes on the whiteboard!
Robbie grinned sheepishly.
JS
And you made everyone believe it was Chaunt’Elle.
He shrugged.
JS
How aggressively passive-aggressive of you.
R
I suppose.
JS
It’s mostly Marc, of course. The mess.
R
I know. If only we could vote him out on Friday.
JS
Well, he can’t stay around forever. If Marc wins this thing, my life will have been in vain.
R
You’ve got him pretty well trained. Maybe you can condition him to lose challenges. Or do the dishes. At least his own dishes.
Hinkfuss stretched, climbed onto R’s lap, and rubbed her face up and down his sweater, leaving a trail of cat hair. R just petted her and gave me a tiny smile.
Robbie is the sort of boy I’d admit to having a crush on, if I were the sort of girl to admit to having crushes.
ThuJun9
Some guy from Wallace & Beanz came by the house this morning. He gave me a yellow T-shirt with the W&B logo on the front and offered me fifty dollars to wear it all day. I said sure. I could use some new shirts. When he left I put a hoodie on because I’d never agreed to specific conditions like visibility. It’s an ugly shirt.
Classes went okay. I handed in my history paper and my Bio lab report. After Bio I spent the money on some new shirts.
The end of the term is almost here, thank god. I couldn’t handle another term of formaldehyde and ridiculous terminology and safety goggles. If I have to retake Bio, I’ll kill myself. For real this time.
AP called a mandatory house meeting tonight. Said he had some big announcements. Marc and Robbie and Chaunt’Elle and I sat in the living room, confused and apprehensive, while AP explained (very happily) that Wallace & Beanz is our new sponsor! Hurrah!
AP
Wallace & Beanz grinds premium coffee beans into superfine powder that dissolves instantly in water. You get to enjoy one thousand packets of delicious and locally produced instant coffee! Yum!
R
Nine hundred eighty-eight. Nine hundred and eighty-eight packets.
CHAUNT’ELLE
OMIGOD I LOVE COFFEEEE!
AP
Wallace & Beanz is proud to be a Canadian-owned company. And to celebrate their twentieth anniversary, they’re offering a two-thousand-dollar scholarship to the winner of House of Orange!
JS
What?
R
What?
MARC
What now?
AP
[smiling]
Thanks, Wallace & Beanz!
After he said what needed to be said, AP quickly dropped the happy-advertiser act. He told us the more we drank the coffee and talked it up, the happier W&B would be. There’s a chance W&B will increase the scholarship amount, depending on how well the show does.
AP
Which brings me to my next announcement. City Television has picked up House of Orange, and the next episode will air on Monday at three p.m.!
MARC
You mean, on TV?
R
[looks thoughtful]
CHAUNT’ELLE
OMIGOD we’re going to be on TV?!
JS
(Shit. My parents watch television.)
Three p.m. is early. The parents will be at work then. Probably. Do they watch City Television? Do they even like reality shows? Once I caught Dad watching a rerun of The Bachelor on his day off. I don’t think I had ever seen him blush before. Sweet mother of god. What if they hear about it from someone else? Like Aunt Gina? Sweet mother of god.
I’ve thought of something.
I didn’t tell Robbie my plan, because I wanted to keep the guilt to myself. But I made him promise to be the first person to get up and have breakfast tomorrow morning. The nice thing about Robbie is that he trusts me.
I snuck into Marc’s room around three a.m. There was shit everywhere. I could barely walk without stepping on something. I used the glow of my cell phone to look around. This was the part of the plan out of my control—not being able to find the immunity idol. I figured Marc would have tossed it somewhere and forgotten about it. I spent a long time checking under clothes and magazines, and it was quite a stressful experience. I was afraid he’d wake up and see me every time I made a noise. I was afraid of what I’d find growing on dishes buried under socks. I was also afraid I’d never find the Don Cherry bobblehead and Robbie would be voted off. Maybe I was even afraid of being alone in this stupid house.
I think Marc did wake up when I stepped on a bag of chips. He sat up and grunted, and I shrank back against the dresser. I crouched there for what might have been an hour trying to convince my heart to return to my chest before I stuck my head out to see if he was asleep, which he was. I found the bobblehead a minute later. It was hidden under an open book on top of the dresser. For some reason, my heart started beating faster when I picked it up. I tiptoed outside and tried not to look too excited as I walked into the kitchen.