Where There's a Whisk

by Sarah J. Schmitt

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  THERE ISN’T MUCH TIME TO PROCESS ADAM’S departure before we head back to the apartment. Once we load up, the ride there seems to take forever. Members of the camera crew encourage us to sit in our assigned seats, so they can have continuity when they start editing the footage, but Inaaya ignores them and sits next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder.

  “That was brutal,” she says with a little sniff.

  I don’t say anything. Instead, I nod and close my eyes. I wish I could say that I’m sad Adam is gone, but I can’t. In that moment, it was him or me—and I want to be here. But as determined as I am to stay, watching him walk out the door was harder than I expected it to be.

  The rest of the cast is pretty quiet, too. Lola and Dani talk in soft voices in the middle of bus, while the guys are spread out in the back. The camera crew, to its credit, stops trying to get our reactions and leaves us alone.

  Inaaya sniffs again, rubbing her hand under her eyes. “But you’re here, and that’s what matters, right?”

  I nod. “I am here, but I’m still not sure how.”

  “Because you were better.” She lifts her head off my shoulder and looks at me.

  I look down at my hands for a moment before I look up. “We both know that’s not true.”

  She seems to want to argue but instead says, “We don’t know what went into their decision. Maybe they see something in you that makes you special.”

  “Yeah, but the competition isn’t a ‘you can do it’ kind of gig.”

  “Well, then, do you want to go back to the judges and demand they send you home and bring Adam back?”

  I hesitate, not because I need to think it over, but because even though I feel guilty, I also know that I’m being selfish and silly for complaining about having this opportunity to prove to the judges—well, mainly Angelica—that I belong here. “No, I do not want to do that.”

  “Then this is a good thing, and I’ll hear no more pity from you.”

  She lays her head back on my shoulder, and I turn to look out the window. Could Inaaya be right? Could the judges have seen something in my cooking that they didn’t see in Adam’s? Something that made them want to give me a second chance? If that’s the case, then I really need to find a way to up my game. From now on, it’s all about the food. If I have time to hang out on the roof or chat with someone, then I have time to work on my skills.

  Back at the apartment, no one seems to know what to say—even Dani, who I figured would be the first to point out that I don’t belong, is keeping her thoughts to herself.

  As we all step out into the hall, Malik turns to us and says, “Roof. Fifteen minutes. Everybody,” before turning toward the kitchen. Paulie follows him, and the rest of us head to our rooms to change and clean up.

  “You going to shower now?” Inaaya asks, reaching for her caddy.

  I drop into one of our armchairs and shake my head. “You go first; there isn’t enough time for both of us. I’ll shower after whatever mysterious activity Malik has planned.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. Besides, you take forever in there.” I give her a quick smile. “I think I need a quick nap.”

  She smiles, closing the door as she leaves the room. I sit in the chair for a beat, summoning the energy to get up, then I stand and go to my closet. After pulling on a pair of jeans and a loose T-shirt, I turn off the overhead lights, flip on the twinkle lights, and flop onto my bed. Staring up at the shimmering lights, I let the events of the day wash over me. The whole thing was a mixture of exhilaration and terror. Just thinking about it makes my heart start to race. I loved every second that I was at my station cooking—it was so different from anything I’d ever experienced that I don’t know if I could ever go back to just working in the kitchen at the diner or even cooking at home. I hate that the judges’ critiques affected me so much. I thought I could handle anything they would say, but Angelica should have basically taken my chef’s knife and stabbed me with it. That would have been less brutal. But worst of all, I hated the look in Adam’s eyes when he told me congratulations.

  Then there was his cryptic message. Don’t trust any of them. But who was he talking about? I close my eyes and take a breath. The cast? No, we’re all in the same boat, so why would he tell only me that? Well, maybe I should watch out for Dani, because she is definitely trouble and not exactly in the same boat as the rest of us. Was he talking about the judges? Maybe. Could he have meant the judges and Jessica? But then why wouldn’t he just come out and say that? Ugh, I am not the mystery kind of girl. I’m more of a fantasy-with-a-heavy-dose-of-romance kind of girl.

  Just then, Inaaya returns, drying her long black hair with a towel. “You ready?”

  I open my eyes before rolling over to look at her. “More than you are.” I laugh.

  With a quick flick of her wrist, all her hair is pulled into a loose bun. “Not anymore,” she says with a smirk.

  “Then let’s go,” I say, pushing off the bed. I’d rather stay in bed and not have to face everyone, but Malik was clear: he wants all of us on the roof.

  The hot summer air has given way to a rare cool front, and the sounds of the city drift on the wind as Inaaya and I walk up to the roof. We’re the last to arrive, and everyone else is standing and chatting in a loose circle around Malik, who has a pitcher of iced tea in his hands.

  As we find a place with the others, he nods to three champagne flutes sitting on the table near him. “Grab one,” he says. Inaaya and I look at each other, then at the rest of the cast, before walking over and picking up our glasses.

  Normally, when I’m on the roof, I don’t hear the cameras whirring to follow our every move; but right now, I am acutely aware of the sound. Inaaya and I step back into the circle, glasses in hand. I’m between Malik and Lola, and Inaaya is between Hakulani and Dani, who are directly across from me. When I look up and meet Hakulani’s gaze, he looks disappointed, but it’s probably just my imagination. I glance at Malik and give him a small smile. He and Adam seem to have really connected and maybe even become friends in the few days we’ve been here. Back on day one, whether he really meant it or not, Malik and I made a pact to have each other’s back, and even if he is upset that Adam left and I’m still here, I want to try to let him know that I am still here for him.

  He gives me a slight smile before handing me the pitcher. “Pour your glass and pass it around.”

  “Is it sweet?” I ask, teasing just a tiny bit.

  He scoffs, but there is a softness in his gaze. “What do you think?”

  “Sweet it is,” I say, filling my glass halfway before passing it to Lola.

  Malik strides over to the table and returns with the remaining glass. One by one, each of us fills our glass until the pitcher is back on our side of the circle. Malik accepts it from Paulie and fills his own before setting down the almost empty pitcher on the arm of a seat behind him.

  He raises his glass and we all follow suit.

  “It occurred to me on the ride back that when one of us is eliminated, that’s it. There’s no goodbye, no time to reminisce. Just a quick round of hugs and a one-way ticket home.”

  Everyone looks around the circle as condensation begins to form on the glasses.

  “But I think that’s a punk way to go out. So I propose a tradition. Now, in the South, traditions are a part of our everyday life.”

  I smile because he’s not wrong.

  He looks at each of us in turn. “I’m serious. I swear, my auntie has a tradition for every day of the year—but there’s not enough time to get into all that. What I’m saying is, when one of us is whisked through that door, we should take a moment to remember them.”

  “With sweet tea?” Dani says skeptically.

  Instantly, I’m with Malik. “Hell yeah, with sweet tea,” I bite back. “My Grams used to say, ‘It’s the house wine of the South,’ and since I doubt the network is going to let us toast with anything stron
ger, sweet tea is as good as anything.”

  Dani raises her eyebrow like I did something she didn’t expect, then shrugs her shoulders. “If you say so.”

  Malik clears his throat and all eyes return to him. “As I was saying, I would like to propose that we each take a minute to recall and share something about Adam.”

  Everyone nods.

  “Peyton,” Malik says, turning to me. “Why don’t you start?”

  “Me? Uh, okay.” I rack my brain, but the only thing that comes to mind, other than his cryptic warning, is the portobello burger he made for us just the other night. “Adam had a way of making the ordinary extraordinary,” I start, turning toward Malik. “Case in point: the burger cook-off between you two. It wasn’t just that he could turn a fungus into a mouthwatering burger; it was that he was full of passion, and even during an intense moment, he could still have fun and be silly.”

  “Agreed,” Hakulani says. “And the man knew how to grill a mushroom.”

  “He still does,” Lola says, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like he’s dead. He’s just going back to his normal life.

  “But in keeping with this sentiment”—she looks at Malik—“which is really a cool idea, by the way, I will say this about Adam. It felt like you could never stay mad at him. Adam was a genuinely good guy. I mean, he wanted to win this competition, but he still took time to get to know you as a person. And he showed me how to turn carrot peels into yummy fritters, which is something I never would have thought of.”

  Paulie nods. “He is super innovative. I think he told me about fifteen different ways to make meatless meatballs.”

  Dani is quiet for a minute before she adds, “Adam didn’t try to be anyone but himself.”

  We all wait, but that’s all she says. There is another pause before Hakulani clears his throat.

  “As much as he was willing to teach other people,” he says, “Adam also loved to ask questions of other people—to really get to know them.”

  “He is noble,” Malik says, before raising his glass. “To Adam.”

  “To Adam,” we all repeat.

  The sweet tea coats my throat on the way down, and, for a moment, I feel a twinge of homesickness. There is nothing that says home more than a tall glass of ice-cold sweet tea as you sit and watch the sun set over the horizon. Or, in our case, the New York City skyline.

  After downing her tea, Dani clears her throat. “That was nice, Malik, but now that the ‘Kumbaya’ moment of the evening is over, can we cut to the heart of the matter?”

  And just like that, everything is shattered, and we all just stare at her.

  Finally, Paulie asks, “What are you talking about, Dani?”

  “How did Adam, who we have all just acknowledged is one hell of a chef, end up going home, while Little Miss Trailer Park, who can barely manage to prepare something edible, is still here?”

  “Dani!” Inaaya says, shocked.

  Hakulani turns toward her, blocking me from her sight. “Whoa, out of line.”

  Malik pours the remaining tea from the pitcher into his glass, muttering, “Here we go.”

  I’m so angry and fed up with Dani that I can’t hear anything anymore, but I see Paulie’s face as he says something to her. Lola is trying to keep the peace and diffuse the situation, but it doesn’t seem to be working. I just stand there thinking that it’s one thing for me to question why I didn’t get sent home, and it’s an entirely different thing for Dani to call me out in front of everyone and suggest… what exactly?

  Finding my voice, I squeeze between Hakulani and Inaaya, meeting Dani’s defiant gaze. “Say it,” I tell her. “To my face. Go ahead, just say it.”

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she says calmly.

  Every word from her mouth just ticks me off more, but even as she is insulting me, I’m in awe of the fact that, with five people standing up to her, she’s not backing down. In fact, she seems unfazed by the resistance.

  “I just have this nagging question,” she continues, looking me dead in the eyes. “Why are you here in the first place? And why are you still here? It’s one thing if they brought you on the show to be a charity case, but then why keep you when you clearly don’t meet anyone’s standards?”

  “Dani,” Lola says quickly, trying to pull her away by her elbow. “Maybe we should go back to the room before you say something you don’t mean.”

  Dani yanks away her arm. “I don’t think so,” she says. “Doesn’t it seem weird to any of you? I mean, you’ve been at the bottom since day one, and it’s clear that the judges don’t think you are good enough to be here, so what else do you bring to the show? It’s not like you could afford to pay off any of the judges or anything.” Her face is completely straight as she delivers the final blow, but I can see the smile in her eyes.

  Hakulani takes my hand and starts to pull me away. “Enough. If you won’t leave, then we will.”

  I try to pull back my hand at first, but then I let myself be guided away because I don’t really know what else to do. She’s only saying what I’ve been thinking.

  “Dani, I thought you had a little more class than this,” Hakulani says over his shoulder as he marches me to the far side of the roof.

  Lola finally pulls Dani from the rest of the group and shoves her through the stairwell door. After a minute or two of awkward shuffling, it’s clear the mood is ruined, and the rest of the cast retreats to their rooms.

  “Ignore her,” Hakulani says as he leads me toward the firepit. “She’s just being—”

  “A pain in my ass?” I provide.

  “I was going to say ‘herself,’” he says, “but your word works, too.”

  “The problem is, she’s not wrong. I mean I didn’t do anything to make them keep me here, but I would never…” I wipe a tear that’s threatening to slide down my face. “But I shouldn’t be here. She is right; Adam’s a better chef than me.”

  “Yeah, but Adam’s choice to only use vegetable-based ingredients could get old after a while. And what if there is a beef or chicken challenge in the future? They can’t bend the rules for him. Plus, he may not want to do the challenge if they don’t.”

  “You’ve really thought this through,” I say, sitting on the sofa.

  Hakulani flips a switch to turn on the firepit, and suddenly we are accompanied by the soft crackle of flames. “Well, when it was just the two of you, I realized I didn’t want you to go.” He sits next to me. “I mean, I like Adam, and he is a nice guy, but you, you’re my friend.”

  I sniff again as I feel the all-too-familiar rush of heat on my skin, and I know it’s not from the fire. “Thanks, but I don’t want to be someone’s pity project.”

  “You’re not,” he says, putting his hand gently on top of mine. “You’re here for a reason, and I, for all selfish purposes, don’t care why. What I do know is that I’m glad to have another round of competitions to get to know you better.”

  My hand might as well be on fire. “I’d like that,” I say.

  Then he reaches up, his fingers barely brushing my cheek, so I look up at him, and suddenly, it’s like I’m in one of those rom-com movies where everything about the moment is perfect. Hakulani is gazing into my eyes, practically seeing into my soul, and the moon is just starting to make its march across the sky. I swallow once and resist the urge to lick my lips in anticipation for what will most likely be the best kiss of my life.

  “Hey, Peyton?” Paulie’s voice drifts from the stairwell. “You still up here?”

  Just like that, the magic evaporates, and the moment is gone. I pull my hand from under Hakulani’s and try to keep my voice steady as I call back, “Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute. Thanks.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Paulie,” Hakulani says under his breath. “Where else did he think you’d be?”

  “For what it’s worth, I’m kinda glad he came looking for me.”

  The instant the words leave my mouth, I want to kick myself, and I see the hurt look on his face. I feel a
stab of guilt. “Not because I didn’t want to,” I say, trying to backpedal as fast as I can, “but because one of these days it could be you and me in the bottom two…”

  “I get it,” he says, straightening up. “And you don’t want to deal with a broken heart when you go home.”

  Suddenly the romantic mood shifts into a playful one, and I breathe a sigh of relief—I really don’t want any awkwardness between us.

  “I was going to say I didn’t want to have to pretend I was sad to see you go when I win the entire competition, but, you know, your scenario could happen too, I guess.”

  He laughs and stands, offering a hand to help me up. “It’s these little moments that I will mention at the toast when you head back to Florida.”

  I take his hand but give it a little tug as I stand so that he is pulled off balance. “Oh, you’ll be saying aloha before me, buddy.”

  “That is the fighting spirit,” he says, before adding quietly, “Forget Dani. She just needs to be the center of attention.”

  Without another word, Hakulani walks me down the stairs and into the living room, where Malik and Paulie have just started a game of pool.

  “I’ll play winner,” Hakulani says, taking a seat and kicking his feet up on the table.

  “And I’m going to bed,” I say, giving a slight wave. “Goodnight.”

  A chorus of goodnights follow me down the hall as I head for my room. Inaaya is still up, though she is tucked into bed with a book when I walk in.

  “You okay?” she asks.

  “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to be on the show calling Dani a pain in the ass, so that should be fun.”

  “You didn’t!” Inaaya gasps, looking up from her book with a small smile on her lips.

  “It just slipped out,” I say. “Loudly.”

  “You want to talk?”

  Picking up my shower stuff, I shake my head. “I want to take a hot shower, slip into some clean pajamas, and forget tonight ever happened.”

  She nods and turns back to her book.