by Lianne Oelke
We reached the exit for the Trans-Canada Highway. Robbie took the exit—it was the most direct way home. I stopped. When he noticed I wasn’t following, he turned around and called back.
R
What are you doing?
JS
I’m taking a different route.
R
But you know this is the quickest?
JS
I have a plan.
Robbie looked uncertain.
JS
Go ahead without me. I’ll see you there.
He hesitated before riding off, much faster than before. I watched him leave, then turned to the HOOtoque already standing next to me. I looked directly into the camera.
JS
Happy birthday, Carol!
I never really needed a car in the first place.
I kept going a couple hundred meters down the road before stopping again. The HOOtoque stepped out of the car once more. My mind was already made up, and there was no point second-guessing myself. It’s lovely to not believe in regret. I started waving at the oncoming traffic. After a minute, a gray sedan stopped in front of me. I gestured to the driver to hold on. He nodded.
I took off my safety pack and handed it, along with the lav mike and bike, to the HOOtoque.
JS
Can you look after this bike for me? I’ll come get it later.
HOOTOQUE
I guess. Why?
JS
I quit.
It wasn’t enough. If I couldn’t go out in a fiery blaze of glory, I could at least break all the rules.
JS
Can I please use your cell phone?
HOOTOQUE
. . . You sure? Are you sure you want to do this?
JS
Yes. It’s an emergency.
He handed me his phone, and I called Alexander Park.
JS
I quit.
I hung up before he could reply and sent him a quick email of resignation. I took my wallet from my backpack and fished out a ten, then held it in front of the camera, nodding to the driver, just to cover all my bases.
JS
For gas.
There was nothing left to do but nod meaningfully at the HOO-toque, throw my backpack onto the back seat of the car, and get in.
JS
Are you heading to Calgary?
DRIVER
Yeah. I’m Jeff.
JS
I’m Jane. Nice to meet you.
I asked if I could borrow his phone, and I texted his description and license plate to Carol, in case the HOOtoque didn’t get it on camera. Exhaustion is no excuse for stupidity. I watched the HOOtoque fade from sight in the rearview mirror. I didn’t see him turn off the camera, but I smiled at the thought anyway. That’s right. Nothing more to see here. Move along.
I’ve shared my triumphs, my humiliations, my secrets, my journal, and now my shocking departure with the general public. I’m a generous person. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t take what I want from the show and leave on my own terms. Sure, the online message boards will be full of speculations and outcries, but no one can say I didn’t play the game well. The legend of Jane Sinner will linger on the internet for years to come. Let the public speculate and cry out. They can’t tell me anything new. Anyone with the balls to talk to me in person better put on a pair of shades, because this sunny disposition will not relent.
In the words of my dear little sister, “I can do what I want.”
We reached the parents’ house by midafternoon. I could see from the barbecue smoke rising up from the backyard that the party had already started. I pulled down the visor and checked my reflection in the mirror—I looked pretty gross, but that was to be expected. I probably smelled worse than I looked anyway. I handed the ten-dollar bill to Jeff and thanked him for the ride. Before I swung my legs out of the car I took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. What if bailing on the show was a bad idea? What if everyone assumes the worst—that this means I’m giving up on everything again?
I got out, grabbed my pack from the back seat, and walked up to the gate.
Carol was ecstatic to see me, and I couldn’t help but grin back at her. Mom hugged me but Dad refused, telling me to shower first. Fair enough. They asked me about the show, and I said I’d talk about it later.
After scrubbing myself clean under the hot water—the second-best shower I have ever taken—I put on one of Dad’s old T-shirts and a pair of Carol’s gym shorts. Now that cameras weren’t focused on my every move, comfort was a priority.
I had taken two steps through the patio door before Carol grabbed my arm and dragged me across the yard. A stocky, dark-haired boy sat on the bench, a plastic cup of lemonade in his hands. He stood straight up to meet us. Carol nodded at him the same way she used to nod at her artwork on the fridge. See that? It’s mine. He wiped his hand on his pants before offering it to me.
CAROL
Janie, this is David. David, this is my sister, Jane.
DAVID
I’ve heard so much about you!
I took a small step toward him, my resting bitch face cranked up to eleven.
JS
Dave, is it? So you’ve heard of me.
DAVID
Yeah! Carol showed me House of Orange. I think you’re awesome on it.
JS
I am awesome on it. That is because I have a very particular set of skills. Skills I’ve acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a—
CAROL
OKAY, Janie. He gets it.
DAVID
[to Carol]
You’re right. Maybe she does spend too much time on TV.
Carol laughed. Her laugh is one of my favorite sounds.
CAROL
Come on, the food’s ready!
Carol grabbed David’s hand like it was the easiest thing in the world to do and pulled him toward the barbecue. David glanced back and noticed me noticing their hands. A nightmare, I mouthed. A nightmare for people like you. He gulped appropriately. A bit of healthy fear never hurt anyone.
Everyone asked me how the show went, and I had to tell them I lost. I said they’d have to watch the show themselves to see how. There was no point making Carol feel guilty for being born just yet. For the first time in months, I didn’t have to strategize. I don’t remember the last time I felt this light.
A HOOcap showed up at the door a couple hours after I arrived. I said he could come in and have some cake if he didn’t turn on his camera. He declined.
CAROL
You could have let him film, you know. I wouldn’t have minded.
JS
I’m pretty tired of the show. I want a day off.
CAROL
I think it’s kind of exciting though.
JS
That reminds me—I have a present for you!
I found my backpack, pulled out the DSLR, and handed it to Carol. I don’t give a shit what AP thinks. At the very least he can let her keep it as a consolation prize.
JS
Sorry I didn’t have time to wrap it.
CAROL
It’s awesome! Thank you, Janie!
JS
I think you’ll have more fun behind the camera than in front of it.
Carol grinned and pointed it at me before running off to point it at David. I called after her.
JS
You have to turn it on first, kid!
Dad thought I should turn in at a decent hour and sleep in a bed, but I disagreed. The night was cold, but we didn’t care. Carol and I huddled in our sleeping bags, eating leftover candy and playing cards. I asked her about David, and she was happy to give me details, but those details are for her own journal, not mine. She fell asleep long before I did. I played with the flashlight as I waited to drift off. The light bounced around the rough walls and empty wrappers, throwing shadows on Carol’s face. When the battery died, I pulled the sheet from the window and watched the clouds drift across the moon,
wondering how Robbie was celebrating. Wondering if he called my phone, even though he knew I didn’t have it with me. Wondering what I’m supposed to be feeling. The show is over. I have nothing left to be afraid of, no more competition to manipulate, no more secrets to hide. Not really.
The sky stretched out above me, deep and empty and dim. This is freedom, I suppose. Maybe I should be feeling happy. Maybe I am happy—it’s hard to tell. If not, I’ll settle for free.
SatAug20
The luxury of the parents’ house wore off after breakfast. For the most part they mean well, but they don’t understand why I still don’t want to move back in, even just for a few months. I thanked them for their concern but left before our differences overshadowed the temporary oasis Carol’s birthday had provided. I still had to face House of Orange one last time.
Robbie gave me a lopsided grin as I walked in the door. I stuck out my hand to congratulate him and get it over with. I knew I was responsible for his victory, but it choked me all the same to admit it. I held my hand out in front of him, slowly dying inside, but he let it hang there. Drawing out the moment as long as he could. Still an asshole.
AP
Jane! You came back.
I lowered my hand.
JS
Yeah. I still have some food in the fridge, so I guess I had to.
AP
I should congratulate you.
JS
For losing?
AP
Yes. I have to say, I didn’t see it coming. I was sure one of you would make it back. I had balloons and everything. But the audience will love the surprise ending.
JS
What do you mean? One of us did make it back.
AP
Well, yes, you’re both here now. But disqualified, of course.
What?
I looked at Robbie. He shrugged.
JS
And what the hell did you do?
Robbie opened his mouth, but the words didn’t make it out.
AP
He had just made it inside city limits when he overheard the crew talking about you. We had figured out where you were, but up until then Robbie had no idea you quit. He had nearly killed himself riding to Calgary to beat you, convinced you had some trick up your sleeve. But when he learned you left the show to go to your sister’s birthday party, he . . .
AP stopped, waiting for Robbie to pick up the story.
R
I borrowed a phone and called my cousin to come pick me up. We went to a bar and drank.
AP
The cameras followed, of course. It wasn’t just any bar—it was the grungiest, seediest place I’ve ever seen. Robbie walked in and ordered a drink like he had done this a thousand times before. An appletini. Hilarious.
JS
Why?
R
Because they’re delicious.
JS
But why did you quit?
AP
After a couple more, he starts buying drinks for the crew. Then he throws up all over his shoes and just laughs it off. Hilarious.
My mouth hung open while I waited for either of them to say something that made sense.
AP
It was chivalry, I suppose.
JS
What does chivalry have to do with anything?
R
I wanted to win. But I wanted to beat you fairly. Not win by default.
JS
That’s stupid.
(But I get it.)
We were both stupid. And proud. And losers.
R
A part of me hoped if we were both disqualified, we’d split the prize.
AP
Unfortunately, chivalry gets you nowhere in reality television.
The first thing Marc did with his prize money was take Robbie, Chaunt’Elle, Holly, Raj, and me out for a drink. Marc has no moral issues with winning by default. He was quite pleased with himself, grinning like an idiot as AP handed over the keys and cash. It would have been easy to resent Marc, to let jealousy and disgust and contempt take over, but I knew it would be irrational. I should have handed the keys to him myself.
At the bar I asked Robbie if he wanted an appletini, but he shook his head and ordered a beer. I ordered an appletini, in part to let him know I wouldn’t make fun of him, in part to make fun of him anyway. Once we finished our drinks, I ordered two more appletinis because Marc was paying. Also, they were delicious.
SunAug21
Marc offered to share his prize money with Robbie and me, but I declined.
MARC
Your loss. I’ll use the money to get a new spoiler for the car.
I did ask him if I could borrow the Jetta for a couple days. I had to return the bike and visit Bonnie.
MARC
Sure. No hard feelings, right, Sinner?
JS
We’re good.
MARC
Can I ask you something?
JS
Sure.
MARC
Do you think Chaunt’Elle likes me? I mean, still?
JS
Probably.
MARC
Well . . . what should I do?
He looked like a puppy. A pathetic, confused, overgrown puppy with floppy hair and a greasy tank top. I wanted to tell him I was no expert on relationships or girls or kindness in general, but the show was over. I had nothing to gain by being unhelpful.
JS
Ask her on a date. Go swimming.
MARC
But I can’t swim. I don’t know if she knows that.
JS
She knows. And she’ll think it’s cute if you ask her to teach you.
MARC
You think?
JS
(Honestly, I have no idea.)
Yes. And when she takes off her makeup so it doesn’t run in the water, tell her she looks pretty. And compliment her on her bathing suit. She’ll feel comfortable around you.
Marc smiled. I hoped for her sake that I wasn’t lying to him. But then again I could be helping her start a proper relationship with Marc. Gross. Ah well. The two of them can work it out.
MonAug22
House of Orange was full of people today—contestants, crew, friends. Carol was there. Most of us had to sit on the floor to see the TV. One last episode. It was more bittersweet than I wanted it to be. It was like waking up from a dream or coming home after a long holiday.
Jenna nodded to me from across the room. I don’t think she’s on good terms with her brother yet, although she did refuse to acknowledge Marc all day. We talked for a minute before the show started. She apologized, but I don’t know where to go from here. I hate how much I miss her though.
Watching the show was a blast. Robbie and I both looked like idiots of course, but that was half the fun. Carol never missed an opportunity to point out anything remotely embarrassing. I threatened to sit on her to keep her quiet, but she didn’t take me seriously until it was too late.
I watched the episode again as soon as I got home, but not because I’m vain. Well, I am vain, but mostly I’m in awe of the way AP put everything together. I know how much footage he had to go through, and it couldn’t have been easy to narrow it down. But he knows how to tell a story, and I appreciate that.