Nice Try, Jane Sinner

by Lianne Oelke

  I wasn’t that surprised to see a HOOcap with a camera waiting for me. I guess they are watching us at night. Or maybe AP anticipated this. I ignored the camera and headed to the fridge. I read AP’s note once more just to be sure.

  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.

  Sweet, sweet ambiguity. Maybe I’ll be disqualified for this. Probably not. I placed the bobblehead next to the milk and smiled as I closed the door.

  FFAFFJun10

  Robbie texted me a pic of the bobblehead sitting in the fridge, with “lol” in the subject line. I think that means he literally laughed out loud. R sent another text afterward, asking me to tell Chaunt’Elle that Marc is next. I really hope she still believes in the Alliance. I’m pretty sure she does.

  Exams start next week. I have two on Tuesday, two on Wednesday, and one on Thursday. I meant to study more this week, but I’ve been busy finishing all my assignments. And trying to deal with this stupid show. Sometimes I forget the only reason I’m at Elbow River is to get my high school diploma, but I spend way more time with House of Orange than I do with my schoolwork.

  W&B is all over campus now. I did a promotional interview for W&B/Alexander Park before Sociology today. W&B gave me a box of instant coffee to hand out to my class. I would have stood on the roof and thrown packets at people as they walked by and been done with it, but a HOOcap talked with the prof and was there to film me handing out seventy-two packets to seventy-two students. Then I stood at the front of the class and explained that next week’s episode would be airing on TV. Yes, by TV I mean television. Which is not the same thing as the internet. No, this does not make the show a big deal. Honestly, I have no idea why this is happening. Robbie grinned like an idiot next to my empty seat. His turn is coming, I hope. I gave up answering questions and sat down when someone asked for my autograph. THE THINGS I AM CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGATED TO DO.

  I don’t really mind being watched.

  I just prefer not to watch others watching me.

  Robbie and I got three minutes of studying done in Union Hall before the Students’ Association asked us for an interview. I can’t remember what I said, because the whole time I was thinking about enzymes.

  ENZYMES!

  I can’t even remember what, specifically, about enzymes I was thinking about, which is a waste of half an hour of thought. I’ll try again tonight, after the ceremony.

  R and I skipped our afternoon classes. The last classes of the term don’t mean much anyway. We brushed off the wet leaves from a stone picnic table in the courtyard and drank coffee. Real coffee, not the instant shit. When the coffee ran out we got more. I almost started to relax.

  It’s nice to know that no matter how bad things get, no matter how many exams I have to take or how many truths I have to hide, after tonight I’ll still have the show and I’ll still have R. I’ll still have a decent chance of winning this whole thing.

  I expected the voting ceremony to be interesting tonight, and it certainly was. I also thought Marc would be upset when he figured out what happened, but he wasn’t.

  MARC

  I guess I deserved this, Sinner.

  Robbie held the bobblehead and didn’t say anything. He just looked at Alexander Park, as if daring AP to say Don Cherry didn’t belong to him.

  AP

  Welcome to the third voting ceremony. Robbie is safe this week, so either Sinner, Marc, or Chaunt’Elle is going home tonight. Normally I would ask you all a couple questions, but I think we’ll skip those tonight. After everyone has written down their votes, each person will hold up the paper and read the name out loud.

  I was the first person to get up and write a name down, and I crumpled the paper with a sweaty fist while I waited for everyone else to finish. I let out a deep breath when the last voter sat down. Please please please be on our side, Chaunt’elle.

  AP

  We’ll start with Chaunt’Elle and go clockwise. Who did you vote for?

  CHAUNT’ELLE

  Marc.

  Thank god.

  JS

  Marc.

  MARC

  Sinner.

  ROBBIE

  Sinner.

  It felt like the dream I had a while ago. The one where I tripped and fell and woke up right before my face hit the pavement. I looked at Robbie to see if he was laughing, if this was a joke, but it wasn’t. We stared at each other, and his face didn’t move.

  AP

  We have a tie, for the first time in House of Orange history.

  Alexander reached into his pocket and brought out a coin.

  AP

  Heads, Sinner is leaving. Tails, it’s Marc.

  JS

  Are you serious? That’s it? A coin toss?

  AP

  Yes, that’s it.

  AP tossed the coin in the air. I wanted to do something. I wanted to scream at Marc. I wanted Will to charge down the hall and punch Robbie in the face again. I wanted to fight the entire crew of House of Orange with one arm tied behind my back. Anything. AP caught the coin and slapped it onto the back of his hand. He turned his hand slightly so the camera could see.

  AP

  The third person voted off House of Orange is Jane Sinner.

  I sat there for a moment, trying to think. Trying to think of anything. Nothing came to mind. So I got up, took off my mike, and left the room.

  I grabbed my jacket, headed outside, and started walking. It was hard to say if I couldn’t feel anything because I was in shock or if I couldn’t feel anything because I had nothing to feel. The farther I walked from the house, the more I believed the latter. It worried me. But even then I couldn’t feel it directly. It was like I was watching someone else worry. Eventually the worry settled at the bottom of my stomach like a heavy rock.

  I didn’t want to think about Robbie, because I knew I wasn’t able to summon the appropriate amount of righteous indignation. Part of me admires him for playing the game so well. I’m pretty sure that part of me will turn on myself when I’m able to feel things again. It will tell me I’m a stupid girl for trusting him. I’ll probably believe it.

  I kept walking. I took streets I had never been down before and wandered through neighborhoods I didn’t know existed, but everything was all too familiar. The last time I took a walk like this I walked right off a cliff.

  I wanted to do the show because it was different. Because I thought I could be different. I didn’t want to see the same people every day, the same high school looming over my backyard. The same routine, the same pity, the same nothingness. I thought if I saw new places and met new people, I’d feel new things, too. It didn’t work.

  There weren’t any cliffs around, or even any tall buildings. Not that I would have tried again. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have tried again. But of course the thought crossed my mind.

  It also occurred to me to pray. When I was in Sunday school, years ago, I heard the story of Moses. Moses led his people out of slavery after Egypt was destroyed by plagues. God sent the plagues because Pharaoh wouldn’t let the Israelites go. And Pharaoh wouldn’t let the Israelites go because God hardened Pharaoh’s heart. What am I supposed to say to a God who does this to people?

  I ended up at the parents’ house. It was late, and the lights were off. I let myself in the backyard and climbed the ladder into the treehouse. Every year on Carol’s birthday she and I spend the night up here, eating junk food and gossiping about anything we think the parents wouldn’t want us to talk about. Tonight I just sat on the wooden floor and looked down at the house. It surprised me how badly I wanted to go inside. I wanted to smell Pine-Sol and clean linen and scented candles. I wanted to let Mom make me supper and listen to Dad complain about Quebec and to play video games with Carol. I wanted to ring the doorbell. They would let me inside. They would let me move back in. But if I stayed, they would want me to play nice
and go to church and pray to a God I don’t believe in and/or like before every meal. I can’t do that. But if I didn’t play along, I’d have to tell them the truth and let them believe I will burn in hell for eternity. I really want to find some middle ground, but I don’t know where to look. There is only cold, dark air between me and the parents’ house.

  I don’t know how long I spent there, but eventually I gave up on ringing the doorbell. At least for tonight. I’ve decided to move in with Jenna. If she’ll have me, that is. She hinted as much a couple weeks ago, but I don’t know how far her altruism extends, now that I’m off the show. If it doesn’t work, I’ll ask Bonnie if I can stay a couple nights, although she’s busy getting ready to go to Edmonton. It can’t be that hard to find a new place. There is always Craigslist.

  I cried. I hate myself for crying.

  Fuck him.

  My iPod was in my pocket, so I listened to music on the way back to the house. Music filled up the lack of everything else as only music can do.

  I run for half an hour every day because I hate it. It never gets any easier. Each day I dread going outside or to the gym, and each day I try to talk myself out of it. But I always go. I hate running, and I’ve run each day since starting the show to prove that I am stronger than my apathy. That I am stronger than the girl who gave up on life. The sidewalks were too dark and my jeans too tight for me to run, so I walked back to the house. It took two hours.

  SatJun11

  I was up at seven this morning, packing. AP says I have until tomorrow to leave House of Orange, but why wait? It didn’t take me long. All the furniture belongs to the house. I just threw my clothes into a couple garbage bags and everything else into a suitcase. Chaunt’Elle helped. I think she was genuinely sad to see me go. She stressed that she had no idea they were planning to vote me off; she told me over and over that she was sorry. I believed her. She was the only one who helped me pack, the only one who meant what she said, the only one who didn’t give my name to Alexander Park last night. I was actually glad to spend time with her this morning. The irony was interesting, but obviously I couldn’t share it with her. Of course Chaunt’Elle ended up bursting into tears, which washed away whatever friendly feelings I was having for her. I hugged her—​for her sake, not mine—​then dragged all my shit upstairs and outside.

  I was wondering how I’d get everything to Jenna’s house when I remembered seeing a kid’s wagon in the garage. I went in through the side door. Alexander Park was sitting at his desk, looking unusually unproductive. A couple of HOOcaps were sitting beside him, glassy-eyed and clutching crumpled coffee cups. I doubt they’ve had much sleep recently. I wanted to throw something at them to see if they’d respond, but somehow I restrained myself.

  JS

  Can I borrow the wagon?

  AP

  What? Oh. Yes, I suppose.

  JS

  Thanks.

  I walked across the garage and pulled the wagon out from under a pile of camping equipment. The squeak of plastic wheels and the crunch of pebbles underneath were the only things we heard for a while. I piled my bags into the wagon. Alexander Park opened the garage door, and I stoically faced it with my back to the house, the daylight hitting me as the door rose. It must have looked very dramatic. I hope AP has cameras in the garage so he can use that shot. If I can’t end this show as the winner, at least I can go out with dignity.

  JS

  (Goodbye, viewers. I hope you remember me as the girl who should have won, not the girl who was outplayed by an asshole named Robbie.)

  See you.

  I grabbed the wagon and left.

  Jenna is an INCREDIBLE WOMAN. She is letting me stay until the end of the summer, possibly longer if she doesn’t hate living with me. Fair enough. Her house smells like spearmint and leather. It reminds me of Mom’s purse. I don’t feel like unpacking just yet. I might not bother at all. But it’s such a relief to sit in a house and know I’m not being filmed. I’ve forgotten how much I love privacy! I don’t have any money, but I’m going to use my credit card to buy Jenna a bottle of the second-cheapest wine I can find.

  The doorbell rang at 8:03 p.m. I answered because apparently Jenna is the sort of person who showers in the evening. A neon-green hoodie stabbed me in the eye. When my sight adjusted, there stood Bonnie. She hugged me.

  JS

  How did you know I was here?!

  BONNIE

  I talked to Jenna’s brother.

  JS

  You just . . . talked. To him.

  BONNIE

  Yes. He reached out to me, actually. Told me what happened and asked me to make sure you were okay. Jenna told him you were here. But you could have saved me an hour if you had just answered your phone.

  JS

  Oh. I’m not sure where it is right now.

  BONNIE

  Why the fuck did you come here, by the way? You could have stayed with me.

  JS

  It was closer. I was walking. And you’re leaving soon, anyway.

  BONNIE

  Whatever. Where is he?

  JS

  Who?

  BONNIE

  Robbie.

  JS

  He’s not at the house?

  BONNIE

  No. I’m going to find him, then I’m going to kill him.

  I smiled and motioned for Bonnie to come in.

  JS

  We’ll find him. But if anyone is going to kill him, it will be me.

  SunJun12

  Bonnie woke me up at six this morning. I have, in all seriousness, never seen her awake this early. We had to be in and out of House of Orange before anyone woke up. We found out through AP/Jenna that Robbie stayed over at his cousin’s house last night. Couldn’t handle being at the house I suppose. Good. I hope he feels like a bag of trash. We had his room to ourselves. I forgot to give back my house key when I left yesterday, so getting inside wasn’t a problem. After we grabbed the box of coffee and scissors from the kitchen, we headed downstairs. A HOOcap was waiting for us, camera on her shoulder. I knew they wouldn’t interfere without seeing what we were up to first.

  Approximately nine hundred packets of instant coffee were emptied in Robbie’s room. On his floor, on his shoes, on his clothes, on his bed. Nine hundred is a conservative guess, but we left the empty packets on his floor too. I bet he’ll count them.

  Bonnie took me to an all-you-can-eat brunch buffet. I love her. She had to go study this afternoon. Bonnie has exams tomorrow, and she can only stand being in Jenna’s house so long. I have to study hard tonight as well. I can’t very well throw away my education a second time because of some stupid asshat on some stupid show. Monday’s episode will air at three p.m. It might be the worst day of my life.

  After politely knocking and receiving no answer, Jane cautiously opens Dr. Freudenschade’s door. The doctor’s chair is empty, but a polished brown loafer peeks out from beneath his desk.

  JS

  Hello? Doctor?

  The silence is broken by a muffled cough coming from the floor.

  JS

  I know you’re here.

  DFS

  Perhaps you should act as though I’m not.

  JS

  I don’t follow.

  DFS

  I’m going to sit this one out.

  JS

  Just come out already.

  DFS

  No. It’s for your own good.

  Jane sighs noisily.

  DFS

  Good day, Ms. Sinner.

  She rolls her eyes as she leaves.

  MonJun13

  Jenna watched today’s episode with me. I’m glad she did. We sat on her leather sofa and watched the show on her wide flat screen. I like the way she decorates her house. Everything is so clean-cut, bold, and intentional. It’s comforting.

  AP didn’t hold anything back this episode, except for R’s thought process. R is too clever to confide things to the camera. The HOOcaps managed to fit in the coffee
incident and R’s reaction. Priceless. I hope that’s a GIF by now. Jenna laughed when she saw what Bonnie and I had done. Her amusement wiped out the shadow of regret my conscience had been threatening me with all day. Also—​AP does have a camera in the garage. I’m pleased I came across so stoically. If I had cried at any point, my tears would be all over the internet.