I humour him, because I’ve come this far, but I’m still so confused.
And then he moves, quick, precise as he plunges our hands into the sand, letting it cover them up and above our wrists. It doesn’t do much to ease my confusion.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask.
‘Shh. We’ve got one minute before the tamper alarm goes off,’ he says. ‘The sand muffles the mics. Talk fast. No one will be able to hear us.’
There’s a real urgency in his voice. He must want to talk exit strategy.
‘You and Ozzy,’ he begins. ‘You seem close.’
My mouth falls open.
‘Are you actually… are you jealous?’ I blurt in disbelief.
His jaw tenses.
‘No. I’m not jealous – of course I’m not,’ he insists. ‘I’m smart. We’re supposed to get voted off together, remember? As a couple. If you’re with Ozzy and I’m with Honey, we can’t both go, can we? Most likely, you’ll end up staying longer. But if not you, then me. Maybe both of us.’
Shit, he’s right. I knew that was the plan, I guess I just got a little carried away. I’m not actually enjoying myself, am I? I didn’t want to be here, or doing any of this, I guess I just got… temporarily caught up in it all.
His fingers squeeze mine under the sand.
‘Right, yeah, I didn’t think of that,’ I reply.
His eyes dart from side to side, his usual level of confidence not quite there. Silly of me to think he was jealous. He’s right, we go together, or at least one of us ends up staying. Plus, Ozzy is popular with the public, so if I’m with him I’ll be collateral damage, I’ll end up staying, and I cannot stress how much I want to get off this island.
‘So, what do we do?’ I ask.
‘We need to end up together,’ he says quickly. ‘We need to flirt, to seem inseparable. The next vote will probably be the public pairing people off – we want them to choose us.’
‘But we don’t even like each other,’ I point out.
His eyes widen, his head tips.
‘Well, we pretend we do,’ he replies. ‘Failing that, if they think it will piss Ozzy off, they’ll put us together. Either reason will do.’
‘Fine,’ I mutter. ‘Fine. We can pretend – it’s probably just for a day, right?’
Time must be up. Lockie pulls our hands out, shaking the sand off before he lets go. He was clever, I think, making sure the camera didn’t see our hands (it’s not the crew we need to hide from, it’s the twenty-four-seven live feed the public can tune into), so maybe it just seemed like technical problems.
Thankfully the tamper alarm didn’t go off. I exhale, my heart racing faster than it should for something so small.
My hands are shaking a little, which I try to disguise by pretending to brush sand off my legs. I’m not sure who I’m trying to fool – Lockie? The cameras? Myself? All of the above, probably.
He’s right, of course – annoyingly. Pretending to be into him is smart. We need to end up together, if we’re going to get out of here as soon as possible.
As we walk back toward camp his hand brushes mine again – casual, almost accidental, but then he hooks his finger with mine.
It’s a move, I’ll give him that. He’s setting out his stall, showing that he’s interested in me, letting Ozzy know too.
But it’s all for the cameras, right?
17
The voice of the island booms out through the speakers, scaring the life out of me – so still not used to it then.
‘Islanders! Time for your next challenge. Teamwork makes the dream work – and today, you’ll need it! You must build a raft sturdy enough to support your whole team for two minutes. This is a team effort so, if you succeed, everyone’s a winner. A prize will be delivered to the hatch. Good luck.’
