Nice Try, Jane Sinner

by Lianne Oelke

  TueJun14

  Carol called. She wanted to know why her friend’s brother’s friend saw me on TV yesterday. I told her I’d explain later. She promised to never tell the parents. I figure that means I have two days. I’ll think of something.

  Exams were not so great today. I didn’t sleep much last night. Or at all. I suppose this is stress.

  AP called. He said I owed him an exit interview because I left the house in such a goddamn hurry. I told him I preferred to think of my departure as efficient. He snorted.

  AP

  We’re putting together one more webisode before exams are over. It’s going to be simple—​just one final interview from you and the remaining contestants.

  JS

  Why did you wait four days to ask for another interview?

  AP

  You’re not the only one with exams. Also, I thought I’d give you some time to cool down.

  I snorted.

  AP

  Don’t tell me you don’t care at all. Even you must have felt something.

  He was trying to get a rise out of me.

  JS

  Save it for the interview. I’ll give you fifteen minutes, and then I’m done with the show.

  AP

  How about Friday? Three o’clock?

  JS

  All right.

  AP

  Great. And let’s make it half an hour.

  So much studying. So many words. When the family goes to the Rockies in the summer, we spend a good seven hours driving past trees. Hundreds of kilometers. Millions of trees. Every one of those trees is a word, and I’m supposed to know all of them. But I only have a couple seconds to see each word. That makes no sense. I wish I could think more clearly right now because I feel there is a good analogy in here somewhere. Something is buzzing, and I can’t eat, and I never want to eat again.

  I don’t know what’s happening to my brain. It’s not good.

  WedJun15

  They know.

  It wasn’t Carol. Aunt Gina told them. Her best friend’s son’s girlfriend recorded it on PVR.

  Aunt Gina also showed them the YouTube channel.

  Never trust a woman with more than two cats.

  It doesn’t matter.

  What matters is the two-minute-and-forty-three-second voicemail message weighing down my phone. They are

  —​shocked

  —​disappointed

  —​worried

  —​befuddled (their word, not mine), and most of all,

  —​upset that I lied to them.

  I don’t know if I lied to them. I never denied participating in a reality show. That probably doesn’t matter as well. They are upset, and I am nervous. I don’t know what, specifically, I am afraid of. Very unpleasant emotion. I think I need to bury my head in the proverbial sand tonight and wait this out.

  Nope. Didn’t work. I did, however, check my Elbow River email, and I got a shitload of messages. Three cheers for popularity. Some were angry, some were outraged, some were sympathetic, some were resigned, some were optimistic. It was nice to read them, because it saved me the trouble of going through those emotions myself.

  hey sinner. sorry you were kicked off. not cool. robbie is such a douche. call me?

  —​Tim S.

  Jane!!! What a Bastard!! You totally deserved to win!! Life’s not fair I guess . . . Keep you’re chin up!!!

  —​Sara

  Hi Jane,

  I just watched today’s episode. I must say I am disappointed with the result of the voting ceremony, not only because I thought you deserved to win. I just lost $50 to another professor. The whole faculty is rather impressed with the show in general, though. Would you consider giving a presentation in one of my classes next term? Enjoy your break.

  —​my sociology prof (DELETE! DELETE! DELETE!)

  You were my favorite.

  —​Spencer M. (I think this guy sat behind me in Bio. I could ask and find out, but the ambiguity is preferable.)

  It’s about time. No offense.

  —​Maxxx935

  you are kind of a bitch so I’m glad you aren’t going to win.

  —​Tina Blenheim

  hi sinner,

  you probably don’t know me but i’ve watched your show. it’s really good. i enjoyed the classical conditioning. the use of fridges in general was outstanding. well played. maybe we can go for coffee sometime . . .

  —​Kris (Kristin? Kristopher? Kristofferson?)

  IM SO ANGRY AND I DONT KNOW WHY!!!!!1

  —​CARL

  I wish Carl would have asked me to go for coffee. I could use more passion in my life.

  ThuJun16

  I am done with exams, but I don’t feel any better. My stomach is a little tender right now. Like that bruise is resurfacing. I want to punch it back down, but I don’t know how. That’s not true. I know what I have to do because it’s the last thing in the world I want to do.

  I had already made up my mind to talk to the parents when Bonnie suggested it. She thinks I should have told them from the beginning. Bonnie has always been the good kid dressed up as a bad one. I think I’m the other way around.

  How I wanted the conversation to go:

  JS

  This is what happened. I tried and I lost and I am okay.

  THE PARENTS

  Hmm. Interesting. Well, look at you go, taking risks and being independent! We’re so happy that you are okay; of course we knew you would be. We trust your judgment. Do you want to come live at home again?

  JS

  No, thank you.

  THE PARENTS

  Why not?

  JS

  For some reasons.

  THE PARENTS

  Fair enough. As long as you have a safe place to stay. Here are some cookies. See you at Christmas!

  This is not how the conversation went.

  I felt incredibly flimsy and exposed as I walked up their driveway, as though one gust of wind would blow right through me and scatter my organs across the lawn.

  They were not happy to see me.

  I let them talk first to get it all out. It took a while.

  MOM

  What were you thinking? Why didn’t you tell us?

  DAD

  What else haven’t you told us?

  MOM

  We are trying to help you, trying to support you. Why won’t you let us?

  DAD

  Would you at least talk to the doctor again? Or Pastor Ron?

  MOM

  Have you been taking your prescription?

  They paused for an answer then, so I gave them one.

  JS

  No.

  DAD

  Why not?!

  The doctor said to take pills; the parents said to pray. Neither option seemed to have done much.

  JS

  It didn’t seem like they were helping.

  DAD

  Why wouldn’t they?

  JS

  Because I’m not convinced there was anything physically wrong with me.

  DAD

  What about your depression? Where did that come from, then?

  JS

  (cognitive dissonance/existential crisis)

  DAD

  Well?

  And then I told them I don’t believe in God.

  They yelled and threw their hands in the air and asked a hundred questions at once, but I could tell they were afraid. Terrified. It really unsettled me. My stomach turned to jelly and wouldn’t stop quivering. I didn’t know how to explain myself to them. Even now I don’t know what I could have said to calm them down. I had several rational arguments lined up in my head, but no one was in the mood for rationality. The only thing they were thinking was: My daughter is going to hell, and there is nothing I can do about it.

  All I wanted was to hug them and cry. It hurt, how much I wanted that. But I couldn’t. Eventually I left. I walked back to Jenna’s on shaky legs, hoping that by the time I got there they would solidify
. They didn’t.

  I wish Hinkfuss were here. I don’t know why.

  I haven’t heard from R at all. Not that I expected to. I thought we were friends. That seems like a stupid thing to say, but it’s what I thought. I really want to know what he thought. I haven’t heard from anyone else today. Even Jenna is gone. All this solitude is weird. I don’t know what to do with myself.

  FriJun17

  For some reason I am more nervous about this interview now that I’m off the show than I ever was as a contestant. Butterflies are attacking each other in my rib cage. Or maybe they are attacking me? I can’t tell. Why am I spending an hour getting ready? Is this stress again? Will I have to talk with him? Yes, I hope so. I will. I’m wearing lipstick, my tightest jeans, and a push-up bra. My confidence needs all the support it can get.

  I walked up the steps at 3:05. AP was waiting for me.

  AP

  Hey. Thanks for doing this. One more interview and we’ll leave you alone, I promise.

  JS

  Sure.

  He lingered on the steps, blocking my way inside. He fidgeted with his collar.

  AP

  I don’t know how to tell you this, but I thought you should know.

  JS

  Thought I should know what?

  AP

  Well, I was going through footage of last week, and . . . I saw Robbie in your room. I think he was looking at your journal.

  JS

  (WHAT.)

  AP

  [throws up hands defensively]

  I didn’t get a look at what he was reading, and I’ve never read it myself. I respect boundaries. But I couldn’t help noticing you spent a lot of time writing.

  I’ve never told a single person about my journal, other than my therapist. I’ve never hated a person as much as I hated Robbie in that moment.

  JS

  Thanks for letting me know.

  I was so close to being done with this show. Being done with R. Now I didn’t know what to do, besides focusing on getting through this last interview.

  Everyone was in the living room. I took a seat on the armchair farthest from the sofa where Marc, Chaunt’Elle, and Robbie sat. I made eye contact with each of them. Marc and Chaunt’Elle looked vaguely uncomfortable, but R sat there impassively. His lack of emotion annoyed me, but I refused to let his stoicism outmatch mine.

  AP

  Welcome back, Jane. How are exams going?

  JS

  Fine, thank you. How are yours?

  AP

  Good, thanks.

  AP paused. I think he was trying to figure out how to convert the quiet tension in the room to something more obviously dramatic.

  AP

  We’ll do a group interview first, then I’ll interview each of you separately. Robbie, why don’t you start? What would you like to say?

  R

  I didn’t come here to make friends. I came here to win.

  He turned to me.

  R

  I’m sorry, Jane, if I led you on. It’s nothing personal.

  He paused for me to reply. I had nothing to say, so he continued, leaning in slightly.

  R

  I know you’ve been through a lot in the past year, but you’ll get through it.

  I snorted.

  R

  I think you’ll be fine. You’re a smart girl. You’re good at a lot of things.

  His voice was drenched in condescension. I lowered my arm and clenched my fist. Where the camera wouldn’t see.

  R

  You’re also good at manipulating people.

  Marc grunted.

  I could feel my face redden with embarrassment and anger. Knowing that I was on camera made me even more embarrassed and angry. I kept my face as still as possible and hoped I looked sunburned and indifferent. Not like I was ready to carve his heart out with a spoon.

  R

  You think no one noticed that you treated the show like one big psychology experiment? Like we were all your lab rats?

  I focused on breathing. In and out.

  R

  Maybe you can see why we couldn’t keep you around. You were a threat.

  Robbie leaned back and smiled.

  R

  It’s a compliment.

  At that moment I knew Robbie would win. He’d win the car and the scholarship and the right to say he played the game better than all of us. Better than me.

  R

  I forgive you, by the way. For what you did to my room.

  The room was silent and still. Even the HOOcaps held their breath.

  AP

  Jane, is there anything you want to say to Robbie?

  JS

  (I don’t care if I’m not a contestant anymore. I’m still in the game, and I swear on my grandmother’s future grave that I will destroy you.)

  No.

  After the group interview, I wanted to go outside and be alone and compose myself. And think. Before I could, Robbie grabbed my arm.

  R

  You know this is all part of the game, right? No hard feelings?

  JS

  Of course.

  I peeled his hand off and walked out the door. AP followed me outside.

  I leaned against the house and closed my eyes. I had to be calm for my individual interview. It’s the last one I’ll ever have. I might as well face it with some dignity. I imagined swallowing my anger. I didn’t want it to go away completely—​it felt good to be angry—​but I didn’t want it to show. I wanted to keep it to myself.

  By the time Chaunt’Elle came outside a few minutes later, I was back in control of myself.

  CHAUNT’ELLE

  Hey.

  JS

  Hey.

  CHAUNT’ELLE

  How are you doing?

  JS

  Pretty good, actually.

  CHAUNT’ELLE

  I hope he didn’t hurt your feelings.

  JS

  He didn’t.

  CHAUNT’ELLE

  You don’t seem upset.

  JS

  I’m not.

  CHAUNT’ELLE

  . . . Don’t you care?

  JS

  I do. It’s just not the same thing as being upset.

  CHAUNT’ELLE

  Sorry, no offense, but sometimes I think you can seem a little bit cold-hearted.

  The individual interview went well. And by that I mean I didn’t humiliate myself further. Before I left, Marc asked me if I wanted to go out for drinks later.

  JS

  (WTF?)

  . . . No thanks, I have plans.

  MARC

  All right. We’re cool, right?

  JS

  Yeah. Good luck, Marc.