I need to get through this elimination fast so that I can get back and destroy the evidence.
Chapter 24 - Everly
When I make a connection…
As I stand in line between Teal and Savannah, my thoughts keep circling back to my writing upstairs.
How could I be so stupid?
How could I write those things about Easton?
He trusted me in absolute confidence and I just wrote it down for everyone to see.
What an idiot!
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who didn’t get the memo about the dress code,” Teal jokes.
It takes me a moment to realize what she’s talking about.
I look down and realize that I’m dressed in my pajamas. Not even yoga pants, which have basically become appropriate attire for everything from a conference to a lunch date.
But actual pajama pants!
Soft. Light. Loose. White with little pink flowers.
The top is a large, completely mismatching t-shirt. My hair is tied up in a bun, unwashed and covered with a thick layer of dry shampoo, which I doubt was fooling anyone.
I touch my forehead. Oily.
Whatever makeup I was wearing earlier that day, has all pretty much rubbed off.
“Perfect,” I mumble to myself. “Just perfect.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Savannah says. “You look fine.”
I glance over at her.
Just like the rest of the girls except for Teal, she is dressed in a tight, black cocktail dress. Her hair is expertly blown out and her makeup looks as if it was airbrushed.
“Yeah, right,” I say with a shrug.
“How is it that they all found out about this before we did?” I ask Teal.
She shakes her head.
I try to remember what we were all doing this morning after breakfast.
Oh, yes, of course.
We were hanging out at the pool. Tanning. Swimming. Gossiping. Drinking. But after a couple of drinks, I got a headache so I escaped to my room for a little rest and relaxation.
“I left the pool about the same time you did,” Teal says.
Dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a tight-fitting white tank top, she doesn’t look anywhere near the mess that I do.
“You look nice,” I say.
She waves her hand and laughs, not believing me.
“They have a really nice library here,” Teal says. “Do you like to read?”
My eyes open wide.
“Yes, I do!” I nod my head.
She gives me a wide, toothy smile. The last thing I would expect to talk about while waiting for the elimination round to begin is books, but it seems just as good a time as any. The consequences of what’s to come are life-changing, so why not pass the time not thinking about them?
I bring up how I just started reading Jane Eyre and Teal tells me that it’s one of her favorites.
“I never read it when I was younger. I mean, I picked it up a few times, but the beginning was always kind of a turn-off.”
“Yeah, it can be a bit difficult to get into. But it’s beautiful. A gorgeous romance. Dark, brooding. Also, it has so much about Jane Eyre’s interior life. That kind of writing was quite advanced for the time.”
“Being a woman writer is advanced enough. And then showing that you have thoughts and feelings. I mean, god-forbid, right!” I say sarcastically.
“But don’t get me wrong. Just because I love some classics doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate what’s going on in writing now. I mean, I spend practically all of my free time reading indie authors.”
“Indie as in self-published?” I clarify.
She nods.
“Especially in romance. They are doing such advanced things. Authors in traditional publishing are just discovering dual narration. You know, when one chapter is written from one character’s perspective and another is from another. But indie romance writers have been doing that for ages.”
I smile and tell her how much I love reading those books, too.
“If you like books with plenty of thoughts and feelings as well as some steamy scenes, those are definitely for you,” she adds.
I love how Teal gushes about writing.
I have some online friends who love to read the same books I do - you know, what others might call a little smutty just because they have a sex scene or two or three - but it’s rare to talk to someone in real life who shares this interest. And also someone who not only shares it, but also talks about it proudly.
“I actually want to pursue another master’s degree,” Teal says. “In popular fiction. They don’t have many of them, but I would love to write a thesis about indie romance today. I mean, so many women I know read books like that. So many writers make a living, however meager, off their writing. And yet, there’s very little scholarly discussion about these books.”
We talk about the significance of the classics in the area, Fifty Shades of Grey, and how influential it was in encouraging other writers to step forward and start putting out their own fiction.
As we talk, our voices get louder and louder, until the other women start to give us disapproving looks.
But Teal just laughs.
For a girl who doesn’t seem to exude much confidence, it’s amazing how nonchalant she is in dismissing them.
“The thing is that many people like to look down on that kind of literature,” she whispers to me, laughing. “But who cares? They probably don’t really like to read anyway since they read a book or two a year. Readers who like to read indie romance read. I mean, they really read.”
I look at her, a little surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I just have anecdotal evidence, but from what I found out, many read a few books a week, and some even a book a day.”
I gasp at the number. “Really? Suddenly, I don’t feel like much of a reader since I barely manage two or three books a month.”
“I usually read like a book a week, but it’s not a competition. It’s just a matter of desire.”
The more we talk, the more connected I feel to her.
Also, the more regretful I feel.
Why didn’t I get to know her better sooner?
Why did I close myself off to this possibility of meeting this wonderful person who is so interesting to talk to?
“Have you ever thought about writing?” I ask.
Having given up on trying to penetrate our conversation, the other women have made their own circle a little bit away from us, and they are talking in hushed tones. I can’t hear a word and I don’t really care to either.
“Actually, I am. I mean, I have a few authors who I really like to read and one of them had this blog about how to write a romance novel. So, I thought, hmm, I have some ideas. So, why not give it a try?”
“Really?” I feel my eyes lighting up.
“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t get too far. I don’t have enough discipline but I’m going to keep trying if I’m not—“
Her voice drops off.
And suddenly, we both become keenly aware of our circumstances.
I don’t know exactly how she got here, but by the look on her face, I know that her journey has not been an easy one.
Chapter 25 - Everly
When there’s another elimination…
It’s hard to make plans when your life isn’t your own.
It used to be a state of mind.
I used to think I had no choices, but then I came to York and realized just how constrained my choices could be.
A prisoner.
A captive.
And yet, what if this is another house of mirrors?
The idea comes out of nowhere as we stand waiting for the elimination.
The rules are theirs.
The party is theirs.
We do as they say.
Like children, right?
But like children, we can rebel.
We can stand up.
We can fight for what we
want.
And like children, we will probably fail.
I don’t know what standing up and fighting means quite yet, but for now the spark of the idea is enough.
I do know one thing, no matter what happens tonight, I will not go gently into that good night.
J comes out and gives us all a once-over. His lips actually make a little smile when his gaze meets mine.
Does he know something I don’t?
Just like the rest of the contestants, I don’t really know how the elimination is going to go.
I did make a connection with Easton, but will they use it against me?
Will it be my weakness?
My Achille’s heel?
Whatever is decided has been decided already, so I try to make the best of it.
As my thoughts swirl around in my head, I try to push them out by turning to Teal and continuing our conversation.
“So, where did you grow up?” I ask her.
She looks as surprised by my question as the rest, but answers anyway.
The rest of the women give us dirty looks.
I ignore them and we continue to talk.
I tell her about myself as well.
We talk in somewhat hushed tones until J asks us to be quiet.
“Why?” I ask him.
“Pardon me?” He gasps at my insubordination.
“Nothing is happening yet,” I say with a shrug. “It hardly seems to matter.”
“This is a very important event, Everly,” he says. “Very tense.”
“Yes, it is,” I agree. “A bit too tense actually. So, I thought why not make it a little bit easier on everyone?”
He doesn’t really have an answer for me so I turn back to Teal who giggles and tells me about her family.
The rest of the women follow my cue and start to engage in their own conversations.
And the ripple of change begins.
It’s not much, of course.
Just a few words exchanged in hushed tones.
But I feel proud.
What was previously an affair governed entirely by them and their rules is now slightly altered.
We do have power.
We do have the ability to impact change. They can’t get rid of all of us.
The door opens and Easton walks through.
His face is grave and expressionless.
A thought rushes through my mind.
They may not be able to get rid of all of us, but they could get rid of the trouble maker; me.
Doesn’t matter, Everly. That doesn’t matter. Chances are you don’t have much to lose anyway.
Just as before, Easton positions himself next to the podium and says a few words. They are forced, rehearsed, and required. This isn’t him talking. We all nod and wait.
Familiar velvet boxes make their appearance. They are stacked one on top of each other and there are only six of them now. Not enough for all of us.
No matter how much I tried to push the reality of the situation away, it suddenly dawns on me. I will not see some of these women again.
Easton calls the first name.
Savannah.
I give her a warm smile and watch as she goes up there and gets her velvet box. I wonder how much decision making power Easton has over all of this.
Other names are called.
One after another.
Suddenly, there are only a few boxes left.
As they start to dwindle down, I exchange looks with Teal.
She gives me a re-assuring shrug and I give her one back.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispers.
I nod.
I’m pretty sure that we both know that we’re lying, but sometimes a well-placed lie can make all the difference.
Two boxes left.
I close my eyes and plead for my name to be next.
I’ve given up trying to read Easton’s face. It’s as if there’s a thick impenetrable plexiglass separating us from one another.
“Teal, please come up here,” he says quietly.
I’m torn.
My heart is bursting with happiness for her.
She made it.
She won’t be eliminated for now.
Yet, my heart is breaking, too.
For me.
There’s one box left.
I have to come to the conclusion that I do not want to reach.
If he hadn’t called my name yet, he probably won’t at all.
It’s probably all over for me. I don’t stand a chance.
Teal glances over at me with a tear running down her cheek.
Now, I know what fate awaits me. I inhale deeply and gather my strength.
“Congratulations,” I say with a smile.
She deserves to be happy.
After she picks up her velvet box, she takes her place in line next to me. I reach over and give her a warm hug. It feels good to wrap my arms around someone.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Teal whispers into my ear.
“It’s okay,” I say.
“Please, please, we still have one more box,” J interrupts.
Reluctantly, we pull away from each other and stand to attention.
Easton isn’t meeting my eyes. He knows something I will know soon. I’ve reached the end of the road.
This is it for me.
You can do this, I say to myself. Whatever is to come, you can survive it, just like you did here. You just have to believe it.
“I had a great time with all of you,” Easton says slowly.
His voice is breaking a little.
There’s sadness, tenderness, and regret in it.
The other girls look as petrified as I feel, but I know the truth. Those words are meant for me. He has to eliminate me because he doesn’t have any other choice.
“Everly.”
I don’t hear him at first. He repeats my name again. And again. I look up at him.
“What?” I ask.
“Everly, will you please come up here?” he asks, looking a little surprised.
I stare at him, dumbfounded. What is he talking about?
“Is this a joke?” I ask.
“Everly, please don’t be disrespectful,” J says. “Now, go up there and get your prize.”
I shake my head.
The problem with convincing yourself of something is that it makes it almost impossible to believe that the opposite is true.
Luckily, my body takes over and I walk up to the podium. Easton gives me a warm smile and hands me a small velvet box, similar to the one that I got before.
“Can I open it?” I ask.
Easton laughs and nods.
“Yes, please open your boxes now,” J quickly adds.
When I lift the lid, the clasp makes a loud clicking sound as it snaps back, revealing a beautiful tear drop ring inside.
It’s delicate in design and looks almost like an engagement ring.
“It’s…breathtaking,” I whisper.
Tears start to roll down my cheeks, not because of the ring, but what it represents.
“Aha! I see we have a winner!” J says after scanning everyone’s boxes. “Everly, I guess you’re the lucky girl.”
Chapter 26 - Everly
When I find out what it means…
Lucky girl? Why? I look down at my ring and then at the contents of the others’ boxes. None of them have rings.
“What does this mean?” I ask Easton.
“It means you are the lucky girl to have even more time with Easton,” J announces.
A smile spreads across my face without my consent. I look up at him. He is also smiling, but only slightly out of the corner of his lips.
The extent of our feelings is hard to decipher, but we try anyway. Neither of us are fully aware of what could happen if anyone were to find out the truth.
“How much time?” I ask.
“A night,” J announces. “But what you two do there is entirely up to you.”
Not like you all w
on’t be watching, I want to add. None of that matters though.
I’m going to have a night with Easton.
This ring means more time.
To kiss him.
To be with him.
To…escape from this place.
Could this be it?
Could this be our way out?
I put Easton’s ring on my right ring finger and watch as it catches the light. The sparkle blinds me for a moment.
“This ring is…” I whisper, lost in its beauty.
“That ring is a three-carat diamond and the band is platinum,” J says. Someone behind me claps and cheers.
“Please take good care of it.”
I nod.
“It is yours to keep,” J clarifies. I look up at him.
“Like for good?”
He nods.
“Wow,” I mumble.
Walking back to my place next to Teal, I cradle my hand.
What is the worth of this ring?
And I don’t just mean in terms of monetary value. I don’t know much about diamonds, but Savannah and Olivia gather around me and estimate it to cost about fifty-thousand dollars based on its size, clarity, and workmanship.
“More if it’s a brand name like Cartier or Tiffany’s,” Olivia points out.
But to me, this ring holds so much more value than that.
It’s an opportunity to spend more time with Easton.
And a chance to maybe, finally make a break from this place.
Lost in all the commotion and excitement of what just happened is the flip side of the elimination: the women who didn’t make it.
I see their fallen faces as they say goodbye.
They don’t have much here, but whatever they do have has already been packed by the servants.
They are not allowed to go back to their rooms and we all have to say our goodbyes here.
“Fuck this!” someone yells and lunges at me.
A moment later, I’m on the floor and she’s hitting me in the face and pulling my hair. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s Skye, the one I talked to the least. She’s pinning down my arms with her knees and the weight of her body is making it difficult to breathe.
I try to kick her or toss her off me somehow, but no matter how much I thrash around, I can’t.
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