He said, “I don’t know what we are. If we can be anything or if we could’ve been. All I know is, I don’t owe you an explanation.”
I started to respond, but he was right. We weren’t dating. We’d never kissed. We’d technically never been “alone,” since millions of people theoretically watched the show. He didn’t owe me anything.
“You’re right,” I mumbled, turning away. “You don’t owe me anything. I guess we’ll never know if we could’ve been anything. From now on, leave me alone.”
I stalked back to the house without waiting for his response, tears of disappointment blurring my vision. Were all men liars? Justin was no better than Dominic. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed myself to trust him.
I still needed to talk to Rachel about the vote, but couldn’t bring myself to care. Maybe getting eliminated now would be for the best.
Like a zombie, I trudged up the stairs, not really paying attention to where I walked.
Wham!
A glass wall clipped my shoulder as I turned toward the upper staircase.
Clearly, this wasn't my night. Instead of going to bed, I went into the bathroom and turned the dual shower on as hot as I could stand. Then, I let the water wash away my horrible day.
* * *
The next morning, I awoke before the others, as usual. Still agitated, I went through my Pilates routine twice. By the time I finished, Ed had stumbled bleary-eyed into the kitchen.
“No coffee yet?” he asked.
“Sorry, no. I got caught up in my workout. I’m on it.”
“Hey, what’s going on? What did Ariana say to you last night?”
“She told me she had sex with Justin,” I said.
Ed reached for the on/off switch on the coffee maker and missed. The pot clattered off the burner. I caught it, barely, before it smashed on to the floor.
A snort of derision sounded from the doorway. Rachel stood, wrinkling her nose.
“And you believed her?”
Not wanting to meet their eyes, I replaced the pot and started the coffeemaker. “I asked him. It’s not true, but they fooled around at the audition.”
“Before he met you?” she asked.
I nodded.
Rachel poured a glass of orange juice and sat at the bar. “Then who cares? Does he have feelings for her?”
I bit my lip. “I don’t think so. They were in the same place at the same time, drunk. But he lied.”
“Did you ask him about it?” Ed asked.
“Not specifically, but all those times he acted like he didn’t know why she was into him. . .”
Rachel nodded, but Ed snorted at me. “If you didn’t ask, he didn’t lie.”
“It still feels like a lie.”
“I understand, but it wasn’t. If you like him, you need to get over it.”
I started to point out that it wasn’t that simple, but Rachel cut in. “I know it’s hard, but he’s right.”
Ed asked, “Did you ask him if he likes her?”
“He says he doesn’t, but what if he’s lying?”
“Then he’s not the person you thought, and you’re better off finding out now.”
I smiled at him. “Are you always the voice of reason?”
“Usually not before I manage to get some caffeine. You’re lucky you were able to get such brilliance out of me at this ungodly hour. I accept thanks in the form of hot, naked men dancing around me.”
“I can offer you coffee.” I waved an empty mug tantalizingly just under his nose. “It’s almost ready.”
“Deal. Gimme.” Ed grabbed the mug.
I air-kissed him. As I headed upstairs to shower, I called over my shoulder. “And breakfast better be ready when I get back!”
* * *
When I returned, everyone sat around the table. Rachel had made something called the “the Wife Saver,” which she swore was an old farm recipe. After catching whiffs of maple, cinnamon, and ham, I dug in.
I had no idea how to approach Justin, or even if I wanted to. Instead, I stayed in the kitchen after breakfast to help Rachel with the dishes.
“You cooked,” I reminded her as I grabbed a dirty plate away from her outstretched hands. “That means someone else cleans.”
“Well, I won’t argue with that.” Rachel dropped the handful of silverware she had gathered and picked up her mug instead. She refilled her coffee and sat at the bar. “You want to know who I’m voting for, right?”
“Yeah. I did the math, and Mike could force a tie if he gets everyone to vote for either me or Birdie. If that happens and the viewers get a say, I’m out.”
“That’s not going to happen. For one thing, Mike’s not that smart. Also, Justin and I are voting for Mike.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. We talked last night after you stormed out.”
“Really? Oh, that’s fantastic!” I gave her a soapy hug. “Thank you so much. I feel much better.”
“You’re welcome. Now stop stomping around. America isn’t going to like that.”
“Deal.”
* * *
After dinner, we gathered in the living room for the results. Instead of climbing the tower where I’d be exposed, I sat in the middle of the couch. Birdie squeezed between me and the corner. Ed sat on the other end. I had no illusions that, after voting to put me up for elimination, the viewers would save me. That math didn’t make sense. But I also hoped Mike didn’t have enough of a fan base to be saved.
“Good evening, Fish!” Bella entered the room with her trademark smile. “Well, this has certainly been an interesting week. First, you were tied together for an entire day. Then, you engaged in a series of tasks while tied to a partner. Abram, Rachel, you did an excellent job, and the two of you received immunity.”
She surveyed the room while she spoke. “Birdie, Mike, you unfortunately had trouble working together and are therefore both up for elimination. Jennifer, the viewers spoke, and you, too, are up for elimination, despite getting along with your partner and doing well in the challenge.”
It didn’t sound like she was going to say anything to shed light on why the viewers nominated me. I had a growing feeling that, if the fans ever had more of a say in the outcome of things, I couldn’t win this game. As Bella met my eyes, I pasted a brave smile on my face and nodded.
“Jennifer.” Bella held my gaze, and I wondered if the others heard my heart beating. My eyes widened; my breath caught in my throat. “I’m very sorry, Jennifer.”
I’m out.
I looked down to hide my disappointment, trying not to cry.
Bella said, “The votes have been counted, and you’re going to have to find a way to get along with Ariana for a few more days. Jen, you’ll be spending another week in the Fishbowl.”
Oh. My. God. I couldn’t believe my ears. How cruel of her to give the results that way. But I made it! How? Did that mean—
Bella continued. “Congratulations, Birdie! You’ve also earned another week in the Fishbowl. And that means, I’m sorry, Mike, but it’s time for you to pack your things and go. You will be leaving The Fishbowl immediately.”
I whooped and hugged Birdie. It probably wasn’t appropriate, but I was too relieved to worry about censoring myself.
After we finished our celebration, everyone gathered in the hall to say good-bye to Mike. He came down the stairs carrying his suitcase. Ariana followed, remaining on the top step.
When he reached the ground, Mike gave Ariana a big hug, spinning her around in a circle. He whispered something in her ear I didn’t catch. Then, without acknowledging the rest of us, Mike walked out the front door.
CHAPTER 18
Jennifer in the School Room, Week 6:
No, I’m not sorry to see Mike go. He caused a lot of unnecessary drama. I realize this is a TV show, but we also have to live here, and it’s easier on everyone if we can at least try to get along.
Ariana? W
ell, no, I’m not having much luck getting along with her. But in my defense, she’s awful.
It feels fantastic to have survived five weeks in the Fishbowl. I came seeking adventure, and I’m having a great time. The challenges are fun, I’m learning how to cook, and I’m making some lifelong friends. Even if I’m voted out tonight, I wouldn’t trade this summer for anything.
Before anyone could react to Mike’s departure, the producers gathered us in the kitchen. When we got there, they’d given us champagne and cake to celebrate making it halfway through the summer. Halfway? I hadn’t realized it had been so long.
Wow. Good for us.
The practical part of me wondered if they’d brought in extra alcohol because the producers were tired of watching us play cards all day. I couldn’t blame them—most of us were tired of that, too. Or maybe they just wanted to do something to get away from the palpable “everyone against Ariana” vibe in the hall.
I poured glasses of champagne while Ed cut the cake. When I handed Justin his glass, our fingers brushed. A jolt went through me. God, he was gorgeous. Why did he have to be so good-looking? And funny? Easy to talk to? Why couldn’t he just be a good-looking jerk? Why did it all have to be so confusing?
He’s no better than Ariana. He lied. Ignore him.
Even though I needed to forget about our connection, to focus on the game, I didn’t want to be angry with him.
Trying to keep my jumbled emotions off my face, I smiled at him. “Congratulations on making it through the first five weeks!”
In response, I received a full-on double dose of his dimples.
Anghgnag nah gah. What was I saying?
“Thanks,” he said. “You, too. Did you think you’d make it this far?”
At that moment, Ariana stepped between us, pouring a clear liquid into two shot glasses. “I certainly did. I said from the beginning I have what it takes to win this thing, and I meant it. I plan to go all the way. A quarter mil, baby! Woo!”
She handed Justin a shot and raised her glass into the air.
“I’ll drink to that.” He laughed.
The rest of us raised champagne glasses. “To two hundred fifty grand!”
Our glasses clinked.
Justin winced and stuck his tongue out, shaking his head from side to side. “What is this? I thought it was vodka.”
“Everclear.” Ariana winked at him. “I thought we could have some fun.”
“Yikes.” He dropped the empty glass on the counter. “Too much for me.”
With a smooth gesture I’d never be able to duplicate, she linked her left arm through Justin’s right and transferred a champagne glass into her left hand. She grabbed the full bottle in her other hand and waved it above her head as she turned, moving Justin with her. “Come on! Party in the hot tub!”
For a moment, I watched them walk away. He’s certainly making it easy to be upset with him.
Ed poked me.
“Don’t just stand there,” he hissed. “We’re all going in the hot tub. I’ll distract her so you can talk to him. You can work this out.”
“Am I that obvious?”
He didn’t bother to answer. He sauntered on to the patio carrying his glass and two more bottles of champagne.
Ed gathered everyone in the hot tub and settled himself between Ariana and Justin. He looked at Ariana and issued the twenty-first-century equivalent of an invitation to a duel.
“The Yankees’ rotation is crap this year. The Red Sox are going to trounce them.”
I hadn’t realized Ariana cared about baseball, but the New York City/Boston rivalry apparently trumped petty things like having an interest in sports.
“Are you mental? The Red Sox lineup is so pathetic they have to spout nonsense like ‘Fear the Beard’ in hopes no one’ll notice the team sucks. The Yankees will absolutely take the division this year.”
“Right. I guess it’s good you’re locked up in here so you don’t have to cry every morning when you look at the standings.”
Ed caught my eye and winked as Ariana gasped in outrage. What a star. He’d hooked her into a conversation without half trying.
Once Ariana’s attention focused on the debate, I inched closer to Justin. He’d somehow made it outside without a glass; he sipped directly from the bottle. I’m not much of a seductress, and I hadn’t had time to think of a good opener.
Even though I was still upset about the Ariana thing, Ed and Rachel were right: I needed to get over it. I wasn’t prepared to throw away what I felt every time Justin came near me. I thought I’d been in love with Dominic, but my day never brightened like this when he entered a room. I didn’t lie in bed planning our next interactions. Even the sex paled in comparison to thirty seconds of Justin explaining how to shoot a bow and error. That kind of chemistry needed to be explored.
“Hey.”
Brilliant, Jen. Next, try talking about the weather.
“Hey,” he said. Awkwardly, we listened to the debate rage beside us. “You a baseball fan?”
“Not really. I used to go to games sometimes for work, before I got laid off. Sitting in the corporate box was fun, but it’s not the same experience.”
Really? I spent all this time trying to get this guy into a conversation, and this was the best we could find to talk about? If he had been into me, the conversational abilities I displayed might change his mind.
Hoping for some liquid courage, I drained my glass.
“Can we talk? Somewhere. . .away from all this?” I caught his eyes and tilted my head at Ariana, hoping he understood what I meant.
His Adam’s apple traveled up and down his throat before he nodded. Pitching his voice toward the others, he said, “Need a refill, Jen? I’ll get that for you.”
Justin lifted himself out of the tub.
For the benefit of the others—well, Ariana—I spoke before following. “Hold on. I’ll come with.”
Was it my imagination, or did the corners of Justin’s mouth turn upward as he walked into the house? I suppressed a giggle when Ed’s voice boomed behind me.
“Here, Ariana. Let me fill that for you. There’s no need to go into the house.”
I closed the patio door behind me, wanting a barrier between me and her, even if it was see-through and easy to move. Justin stood next to the cake slices that had been ignored in favor of the champagne, filling two shot glasses.
“Care to join me?”
What the hell? Can’t make this conversation any more awkward.
I’d never tasted Everclear. As it burned down my throat, I swore never to taste it again. It felt like my eyeballs burst into flames. I coughed, swiped at my throat, and chugged half a glass of water.
“Sorry. I should’ve warned you. Want some cake?” Justin asked.
“Hold that thought. I have to make a quick trip upstairs.”
And try not to barf up my insides.
After splashing a bit of water on my face, I left the bathroom and stopped short. Justin sat on the couch in the small sitting room. Two plates of cake and two glasses of champagne waited on the table in front of me. An unopened bottle stood nearby. I hadn’t noticed before, but there wasn’t a ton of light in this room, which was much smaller than the downstairs living area. Cozier. Almost romantic.
My heartbeat sped up a notch.
Calm down, I told myself. Nothing is going to happen.
Oh, yeah? Then why did he set this up? Awfully intimate, isn’t it?
War raged in my head. Part of me still wanted him to apologize for earlier. I needed more than his “I don’t owe you anything.” On the other hand, I was so tired of arguing. So tired of the drama.
Couldn’t we have this one moment?
I sat on the couch, trying to find a happy medium between close enough to be enticing and plopping myself into his lap. God, I wanted to plop myself into his lap. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken that shot. Justin handed me a piece of cake, and I thanked him.
“How is it?” I asked.
“It’s pretty good. My sister’s cakes are better. She works in a bakery. She’ll own it someday.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. Justin rarely talked about his personal life, so I seized the opening. “You’ve mentioned your sister a few times, but never said much about her. Older or younger?”
“A twin, actually. She tried out for the show with me.” He shrugged and swallowed his champagne. “I don’t think she was into it. She just did it because I wanted us to do something fun together.”
Wait a minute. Why did that sound so familiar?
Think, Jen. I had heard this information before.
As I puzzled it out, Justin tilted his head and studied my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s just—what you said is so familiar. It’s like déjà vu or something.”
“I don’t think we’ve had this conversation before. I remember most of our talks.”
He did? A wave of pleasure washed over me. I took in his green eyes, the soft-looking blond hair. Then, with a start, the answer hit me. “You’re Sarah’s brother!”
A look of confusion passed over his face. “How did you know? Wait. You’re the girl from the bathroom!”
“Yes!”
“Cheers!” He clinked our glasses together, then took a long swallow before looking at his now-empty glass. I wondered how much he’d had to drink.
“She told you about that?”
Justin reached for the bottle and refilled both glasses. “Well, she said she had a minor breakdown in the restroom, and some girl talked to her until she felt better. Jennifer is such a common name, though, and she didn’t say anything when the contestants were announced.”
“That’s not surprising. We only spoke for a few minutes.”
“Yeah, but you made an impression on her. She thought I’d like you.”
At that point, my hopes skyrocketed. He wouldn’t say these things just to shoot me down, would he? I took another sip of champagne and shifted a bit closer to him. “Really? And what do you think?”
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