The studio audience goes wild as the salt-and-pepper star emerges from behind a black curtain. Wearing a white shirt and a tie with potatoes on it, he waves at the crowd as they cheer him on.
I grab Leo’s forearm to remind myself that this is real. It’s happening, and I’m here with Leo, and I won’t let a conniving ex or niggling emotions stand in the way of making good on my promise to Mom.
“Welcome toMadcap Market, the game show where we turn an everyday grocery store into an adult playground.” Pat Crumsky flashes the crowd a natural-born showman’s smile. I can’t help it. I fawn. Despite his age, he’s even handsomer in person. “For those of you who are new to the program, here’s how it works. Our teams of two will participate in three rounds of physical competition and trivia. The winners will earn advantages such as coupons and gift cards for the final round,Madcap Mania, where the store becomes a minefield of obstacles as the teams race to complete the ultimate shopping list. The team with the lowest receipt total gets to go on to our finale where they’ll be put to the test to win one hundred thousand dollars. Let’s meet our teams.”
When the main camera lands on me and Leo, heat rises to my cheeks and my tongue ties up, so Leo, probably sensing this, speaks first. “I’m Leo Min. I’m from Los Angeles, California. I’m a gaming enthusiast who loves to dance, and I plan on going home with one hundred thousand dollars.” All that practice paid off. He flashes a charming, boyish smile that gets a good laugh out of the audience.
“I see you’ve taken the sleeves off your sweatshirt. I take it you frequent the gym in your spare time?” Pat asks, knowing his audience is going to love the response.
“Thanks for noticing, Pat. I do work out pretty regularly,” he says. “But I did a little extra just to get in shape for your show.” Leo, as he always does, lifts up his arms and flexes to a near unanimous swoon throughout the room. I’m not immune to it. Neither is Pat clearly, even though he has a gorgeous supermodel wife and two kids at home.
All those episodes I made Leo watch primed him for this. Not that it will necessarily help us win—there’s luck and skill involved in that part—but being winsome on national TV nets you social media followers, maybe free gifts from brands who want you to post about them, and on rare occasions, an invite to compete on an all-star episode ofMadcap Market. Our performances aren’t limited to this sole taping.
But I can’t think about all that right now. My only aims are grinding Buckley to dust and getting out of debt.
“How about you?” Pat pivots to me.
“Well, Pat, my name is Holden.” My eyes flick over to Buckley behind the opposite podium. There’s a slight upward twitch of his right eyebrow. Almost imperceptible. But I’m still, even after the breakup, so attuned to his shifting moods. I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking about exposing me on national television. I clam up.
“Cat got your tongue?” Pat asks.
Leo leans over. “He’s so excited, Pat. He’s been a fan since he was a kid. I think he’s too starstruck to speak.”
“Yeah,” I blurt out. “This is a dream come true.”
“That’s lovely, young man. It’s always wonderful to have a superfan on the show. Tell me, who introduced you toMadcap Market?”
The tears I fought back before return, especially when I notice a familiar face in the audience. Mrs. Min sits behind one of the main cameras. She’s not frowning, but she’s not smiling either. She looks uncomfortable squished onto the bleachers with so many hyper, excited fans.
She’s been so kind to me. She’s given me cooking lessons. She raised such a respectable if somewhat cocky son whom I’m growing fonder of by the second. It’s all overwhelming.
If I believed in ghosts, I could almost imagine Mom sitting beside Mrs. Min shooting me a big thumbs-up.
I croak, “My mom.” Then, the tears fall.
As if he expects this to happen once an episode, Pat pulls a monogrammed hanky from a pocket inside his suit jacket and hands it to me. “Is she no longer with us?”
Unable to get out any words, I shake my head. Leo’s arm wraps tightly around me. I should’ve known this would happen.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure she’s smiling down on you right now. Team Eggplant’s number one fan!” I’m mortified we went with that name now. A little, surprising laugh chirps out of me and stops the crying in its tracks. “Care to explain that team name?” Pat asks, trying to transition smoothly back into the show’s fun tone.
Leo takes the question. “Well, who doesn’t love a little eggplant in their life?” His eyebrows waggle to win the laugh. “In seriousness, we’re a little cheeky, but mostly we were online friends who recently met in person. We’re egg-plantingthe seeds of our relationship on the show tonight.”
Anawsounds off that tickles its way into my heart. Leo stole my line, but delivered it better than I ever could. The cheesiness doesn’t negate the sentiment.
Pat Crumsky moves on, and the lights on our podium blink off, but the heat wave I’m experiencing doesn’t subside because Buckley is still glaring at me. Even if the mention of my mom lessened its intensity, it’s still there, menacing, reminding me that even if there’s truth to our tale now, there wasn’t when we started this.
When Buckley begins speaking, I hold my breath. Leo, once again, sensing my emotional distress like it’s his goddamn superpower, lassoes one arm around my waist. It’s below our podium so the crowd can’t see. He tugs me into his side so we’re hip to hip.
The studio slides away until Leo whispers, “We’re in the clear.”
The camera has panned away from Buckley and Alexia. There were no gasps. No producers running onto set demanding to know why Leo and I would lie like that. Buckley zipped his lips, but that doesn’t mean he’s thrown away the key.
Everyone breaks for commercial. The smile I didn’t even know I was wearing drops.
“Seems like we have nothing to worry about.”
“I wish that were true,” I say, unease becoming our third teammate.
