by Lianne Oelke
R was moving fast and hitting hard with beautiful ruthlessness. I made my first hit after getting pounded in the shoulder. The next ten minutes were a blur of rubber and squeaks and cheers. By the time we got the crew down to three, Marc and R had taken two hits each, while I only had one.
With a shrill yell, Marc ran for a ball near the center and tripped over his shoelaces. It was the most hilarious and pathetic thing I’ve ever seen. His arms and legs and tank top twisted in impossible angles as he lay sprawled on the scuffed-up floor. The last three HOOcaps raised their balls, grinned in slow motion, and took aim.
I raised my ball, too.
My shot hit Marc square in the chest with a satisfying slap. This one was for the couch. Marc lay there, confused, while I bent down to pick up another ball. Someone hit my back, but I ignored it and took aim once more. This one smacked him in the face. I’d been hit three more times by the time I found another ball, but I didn’t care. Once again, I raised the ball into the air. Dimly, I heard AP’s voice saying, “Just go with it! This is good.” So I turned around and threw the ball at AP, knocking that fucking HOOcap right off of his fucking head. God, it felt good.
We didn’t win.
The pie in the face wasn’t even all that embarrassing. I must be a veteran of public shaming by now. By the time we left, Marc had already changed his Facebook profile picture to a selfie of him grinning through a thick layer of meringue.
On the ride home R complimented me on my aim.
FFAFFAug5
I had a dream last night.
House of Orange went on a camping trip, or maybe we were always in the forest. I can’t tell. Chaunt’Elle said she was going for a walk, and I’m like, fine. So she walks up to this big black dog, only it’s not a dog and I shout, “CHAUNT’ELLE THAT’S A BEAR!!!” and the bear swipes at her and takes off half her face. I punch the bear because who is he to mess with Chaunt’Elle?! and we run away. We were all a hundred feet away from the bear now, except for R. R kept running and didn’t look back. Marc was out of breath, crouching down and looking at his feet, saying, “These old dogs are howling.” Then the bear threw something at me. I forget what it was, but it smacked me in the head, and I was terrified, because WTF—bears can do that? The details are blurry, but I woke up irrationally mad at R.
SunAug7
Someone egged our house.
Good thing I have no window.
At least three dozen.
Relevant article from the Calgary Sun:
REALITY STAR FALLS
Local reality show contestant Marc Fletcher (39) was arrested Saturday night on multiple charges including public intoxication, property damage, disturbing the peace, and resisting arrest. He was competing, along with two other Elbow River Community College students, in a scavenger hunt challenge on the hit student-run show House of Orange. Witnesses say he was seen running naked alongside the gorilla exhibit at the Calgary Zoo, shouting, “I’m one of you!”
Zoo security was alerted around 8:30 p.m., when Fletcher attempted to climb over an exhibit fence. He did not make it over the fence, but officials say significant damage was caused. A vomit-covered tank top was found next to a nearby destroyed garbage can. Police suspect the incidents are related.
For the duration of the challenge, Fletcher reportedly drank from a clear plastic water bottle. After the results of the challenge were made known, Fletcher’s drinking increased. The bottle was later confirmed to contain vodka.
Fellow contestant Robert Patel (20) suggests that Fletcher’s actions resulted from his disappointment at losing the challenge and, ultimately, his place on the show. “Normally we’d be competing for immunity in the next voting ceremony. The sudden death aspect of the challenge threw us all off. I don’t think he expected to lose. I really don’t. He’s been a strong competitor throughout the show—in his own way, I suppose—and having to pack his bags and leave, after months of this—it must have been a shock.”
The producer of the show, Alexander Park, gave a statement shortly after the incident. “On behalf of House of Orange, I would like to apologize for any distress Marc’s actions may have caused. We deeply regret the incident, and would like to assure the public that it was never our intention to cause any damage, physical or psychological, to the residents of our city. We will be working closely with the city to repair all damages.”
The scavenger hunt had the contestants racing across the city to find clues leading to their ultimate destination. The event tested stamina, knowledge of the city, and creative problem-solving skills. Patel and his remaining competitor, Jane Sinner (18), were neck and neck for most of the challenge, but Patel was the first to make it to the Canadian wildlife exhibit. As the winner, Patel secured his place on the show and received $200 worth of books donated by a local store. Sinner is also still in the running for the grand prize—a car and a scholarship—but chose not to participate in this interview.
Patel and Sinner are now finalists in the competition. The winner will be determined at the final challenge taking place on August 18, and the season finale is set to air August 22.
There was no way AP was going to let Marc stick around any longer.
I’ve got a psychology paper due in twelve hours. I’ve been struggling to get anywhere all day. Normally I’d be only mildly stressed, but the stakes are high. I am on academic probation, after all. AP set up the living room GoPros for live feed on the website, and I’m having trouble concentrating. My bedroom is way too messy to support any semblance of organized thought. I’m sitting with my back to the camera, doing my best to appear studious and boring.
Jane settles down on Dr. Freudenschade’s couch. Her hair is a rat’s nest and her eyes are bloodshot.
JS
Help.
DFS
Wow, I’m hungry. What’s on TV tonight?
JS
. . . That’s it? What happened to your “professionalism”?
DFS
You know it was all bullshit anyway.
JS
Lovely. My paper is due tomorrow, and all I have are the disorganized ramblings of a nihilistic psychotherapist whose metaphysical qualifications are questionable. At best.
DFS
Stop trying so hard.
JS
Stop not trying at all!
Jane gets up, but before she can storm out of the room, she slips on a banana peel and lands on her ass. Dr. Freudenschade laughs.
MonAug8
Marc moved out today. He asked for my help—he has a ridiculous amount of stuff, including an entire box of hair products—but I told him to go fuck himself.
MARC
What did I ever do to you, Sinner?
JS
Really, Marc?
MARC
You’re not still mad about the whole Jenna thing, are you?
JS
Bye, Marc.
MARC
Well, fine! If that’s how you want to be, I’m going to talk to Mr. Dubs.
JS
Why?
MARC
[huffing]
To have you removed from the McNugz Club email list! You’re dead weight, Sinner. And you have a lousy attitude.
JS
Oh no. Whatever will I do.
He hesitated at the front door, waiting for me to say something else. I turned to go.
MARC
So . . . are we still on for that thing tomorrow?
JS
I told you not to bring it up on camera!
MARC
Is that a yes, or . . . ?
JS
Yes! Goodbye, Marc.
TueAug9
Finally I can admit what I’ve been working on for the past week. I couldn’t risk leaking any information before it happened. Private journals are not safe these days. I didn’t sleep at all last night.
Stage 1
4 a.m.
I sneak into R’s room and set all his clocks back one hour. I know the passwor
d for his phone because I asked AP for footage of R entering it. AP was onboard with the whole thing—that guy is always up for shenanigans. Also he doesn’t want to risk pissing me off.
Stage 2
9:45 a.m.
As R gets off the bus to go to Sociology, Marc casually runs into him. Says something stupid like “Hey, dude. God, I’m so tired. I haven’t been sleeping enough,” to which R replies, “Yeah, me too.” Marc walks off. As soon as he turns the corner, Marc whips off his tank top, throws a different one on, and jumps on his bike. He rides as fast as he can toward the building where R has class, throws his bike into another bush, and runs inside.
Stage 3
9:48 a.m.
Someone R does not know accidentally bumps into him and says, “Wake up.” Said person walks away as if nothing happened.
Stage 4
9:52 a.m.
Marc walks out of the building and casually runs into R. Says something stupid like “Hey, dude. God, I’m so tired. I haven’t been sleeping enough,” to which R replies, “Didn’t I just see you at the bus stop?” Marc says, “What are you talking about?” Marc leaves.
Stage 5
9:54 a.m.
R walks into Sociology class, only to find everyone already there and Dr. Benson in the middle of her lecture. Benson raises her eyebrows and says, “Thanks for joining us, Mr. Patel.” R says, “But it’s not even nine.” The prof’s eyebrows slide up higher as she tells him it’s nearly eleven. After singing some ridiculous song to appease Benson, R takes a seat in the nearest chair and avoids eye contact with his classmates, who are all annoyed by the interruption.
Stage 6
11 a.m.
Class lets out. It’s a good thing sociology profs love to mess with people, or Benson wouldn’t have agreed to end class one hour early. R, having confirmed with several classmates, thinks it’s twelve o’clock, although his phone tells him it’s ten.
Stage 7
11:12 a.m.
Someone else R does not know accidentally bumps into him and says, “It’s all a dream.” Said person walks away as if nothing happened.
Stage 8
12:25 p.m.
AP calls R to ask where he is. R has no idea what he means. AP says, “The voting ceremony. Why aren’t you here?” R panics and says he’ll run back home. AP tells him the ceremony isn’t at home: it’s at the top of the Calgary Tower. R swears and says he’s on his way. AP tells him they can’t wait much longer because they have to be out of the building in half an hour.
Stage 9
12:58 p.m.
R jumps out of a taxi and runs into the building. He doesn’t see me loitering behind a plant, texting AP. R tells the woman at reception that he’s there for House of Orange. She gives him a pass. As he steps into the elevator, he gets another call. AP tells him he’s off the show. Disqualified. R’s eyes widen and his mouth opens in protest as the doors swallow him.
Stage 10
1:02 p.m.
R trots around the observatory, looking for the film crew. Instead he finds random people staring at him. A handmade banner covers a window, reading:
DEAR ROBBIE:
JUST KIDDING, LOL
REGARDS,
SINNER
R swears loudly and turns around to find a HOOcap with a camera behind him.
I’d like to thank Alexander Park and the crew of House of Orange for making this prank possible. I’d also like to thank Dr. Benson and my Sociology class for playing along.
I’ve never seen R so red before. He caught my eye as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly thought better of it, then shook his head and walked past me. I laughed.
It went exactly as I’d hoped. Better, even. There is no reason for me to feel anything but victorious and triumphant and happy, like the future House of Orange winner that I am.
No reason at all.
Except that maybe, just maybe, messing with R has only evened the score between us. Despite my best intentions, R still isn’t the mustache-twirling bad guy I need him to be. A nemesis or a friend—either would be enough to keep me going. Because once this show’s over, any shittiness on my part toward him no longer counts as strategy. It’s just shittiness.
WedAug10
I came home this afternoon to find my room empty. No furniture, no clothes, nothing. No crumbs on the carpet. Of course he would vacuum. I checked the entire house, and nothing I own is in it. Even my mini-fridge is empty. I’m not mad, really. I’m annoyed but impressed. Well played, sir. AP wouldn’t let me see any footage. I suppose it was R’s turn to ask a favor. I’m pretty sure Jenna is home now, so I’m going over to her place to see if she knows anything. Good thing I had this journal with me in my backpack, or I’d be screwed.
I hadn’t been back there since That Night. I’ve been trying to figure out why a girl like Jenna would go for some douche nearly twice her age. There must be some sort of plan. Some greater good, some suffering necessary for character development or whatever. But as much as I want to, I can’t convince myself of any of that. Jenna is just some girl who wanted to get laid.
JS
Hey. Any chance you know where all my stuff is?
JENNA
No.
JS
You can’t say? Or you won’t?
JENNA
I promised Alexander I’d stay out of it.
JS
When you said you’d help me, back in James Fowler, you weren’t doing it for me, were you?
JENNA
I—
JS
For the same reason you convinced him to pick me for the show in the first place. It’s why you helped me to get back on. All you care about is an entertaining reality show, because you fucked up and Alexander took the fall.
Jenna leaned forward. She looked concerned, but I couldn’t afford to believe her.
JENNA
Come on, Jane. You know I enjoyed living with you.
JS
Fuck, Jenna. If your brother is all you care about, fine. You could at least respect me enough to admit it.
She didn’t say anything. I didn’t feel like waiting for her to come up with more bullshit, so I left.
The parents were happy to have me over tonight, once I explained what happened. Even Dad wasn’t as awkward as he could have been. They’ll never be completely onboard with the show, but I think they’re relieved to know that it’s not all booze and parties and rampant immorality.
DAD
It’s all right, Jane. Just a bit of good, clean fun. Get it—because that boy cleaned out your room? You know, when I was your age, I used to replace my roommates’ yogurt with mayonnaise, just to see what they’d do. It was a hoot!
JS
Obviously I’m way too mature for those kinds of shenanigans.
Carol insisted I stay in her room so we could watch Netflix on her computer and make it a sleepover.
CAROL
Soon you’ll get your high school diploma and go off to real college and shit, and you won’t have time for juniors like me. Are you busy this weekend?
JS
I don’t know. And you’re not a junior yet, kid.
CAROL
Close enough!
JS
And don’t say shit.
CAROL
I can say what I want.
This is why I’ll never have kids.
CAROL
Do you want to stay at Elbow River after the show? Or are you gonna go to U of C? And are you still going to study psychology?
JS
I don’t know.
CAROL
But you’re eighteen now, Janie! You’re supposed to know.
JS
The next time anyone tells you that, do yourself a favor and drop-kick them in the tampon tunnel.
Relevant text from Jenna: Everything is in Robbie’s cousin’s garage. You can borrow my car tomorrow if you want.
ThuAug11
> Jenna left her keys with a HOOcap, and I drove to R’s cousin’s place this morning. The HOOcap who followed me offered to help move everything into the car, but I automatically declined. This was my mess, I could deal with it. But I couldn’t move my bed on my own, so I had to swallow my embarrassment and ask him to help anyway. I wonder if humble people ever feel embarrassed. Probably not. R left the bed disassembled, so we managed to tie it to the roof. Everything else barely fit inside.