“What in the Dolly Parton am I doing?” I say to myself as I hobble barefoot through a soggy yet sunlit jungle, retrospectively hoping that those watching me gather kindling on live television think I’m referencing my lack of knowledge of proper fire fuel and not the chaotic state of my mind. Which, just to be clear, I’m confused about both. Why Joseph tasked me with kindling duty today is beyond me, especially after last time, when I’d managed to collect some of the only leaves and twigs in this jungle that refused to be lit.
But thanks to the midday rain shower, my kindling options are not just limited; they’re practically nonexistent, as is thespace in my brain. It’s a little occupied with the fact that my emotions have gone into Civil War mode and are at the brink of annihilating both my brain and my heart, because if I didn’t know any better, last night, Colton and I were moments away from kissing. “Stop, stomach. Stop fluttering like that.”
I pause in my tracks, my bare feet squelching in the mud, as I remind myself that while I’m currently alone in the jungle, people are still watching me through my personal camera and my drone buddy that follows me like a faithful dog. If I don’t stop talking to myself, America’s going to be voting me right into a straitjacket.
With a new determination to be sane and productive, I press forward down a familiar jungle path that glistens with thousands of tiny water droplets catching the light of the sun. The jungle is beautiful, but the soles of my feet have their own opinions about the mud happily drowning them with every step.
I’m suddenly grateful that the medical team deemed my foot ready to be without the clunky boot and bandage. Muddy or not, I feel far more mobile now. And though there is still a dark bruise circling my injured ankle, the swelling has gone down, which is a major plus.
I lift my foot and make a slow circle with it just because I can, but I find it’s still a bit tender. It likely didn’t help that I’d tried running last night just to get a look in Colton’s backpack.
My lips lift at the thought. Colton and his sanitizer. Dare I say it was—cute?
No, no thoughts of Colton. Just kindling. Goodness gracious, I am on one today.
“Is your foot okay?”
The voice catches me off guard. I spin around, accidentally pivoting on my bad foot. A sudden shift to my good foot knocks me off-balance, and as if I weren’t already a mess, I overcorrect and end up falling derriere first into an unlucky fern.
“Mija.” Maria trudges up the trail and through the mud until she’s standing right above me, her black hair frizzing out of her amber bandana. She puts out a hand. “You okay? I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I smile. “Oh no, you didn’t startle me.”
Maria lifts a brow.
“Well, maybe a little.” Grateful to see my friend, I smile and reach out and clasp her hand. Though Maria is just a fraction of my height, she manages to pull me to my feet.
“Oof,” she says, stretching her torso after lifting me.
“Sorry. I must have had one too many papayas for lunch,” I joke.
She laughs. “Oh, it wasn’t you.” Her face scrunches and tilts toward the sun peeking through vibrant green palms. “Actually, it was you. Your beach yoga class today is definitely to blame. You pulverized my muscles. In fact, I think I might be growing an ab. I haven’t seen that puppy since the ’90s.”
“Maria, you exaggerate,” I say with a chuckle.
“Don’t believe me? Just go and ask the camp full of lazy bones back there. They’re all whining about their quads and biceps like they’d just been thrown from a horse and not asked to stay in a downward dog for forty-five seconds.”
I laugh. Okay, so I might have had a bit on my mind today and might have taken it out on my poor dwindling yoga class. Truth be told, while I was teaching, I was also watching Colton, spying him from my modified warrior-one pose as he milled about the airplane quarters, filling up his water bottle and making his bed not just once, but twice. Everyone had attended this morning’s yoga session, except for him. It made the gap we’d created between us last night feel like a deep-sea trench. We are so close in proximity, yet our emotional connection couldn’t be more severed.
I feel something pool in my chest, until it hardens into something solid and uncomfortable. Guilt. Guilt for ignoring Colton today for petty reasons. Okay, so maybe the fact that I wanted to kiss his lips last night wasn’t petty, but my silent treatment was. I should be a responsible adult and just tell him that his proximity last night made me feel … excited? Nervous? Breathless? Like he’d spawned a thousand free radicals in my brain that have overtaken my ability to think of anything that doesn’t start with “Col” and end with “ton.”
But no, instead, I’d traitorously done modified exercises with my sore foot while letting my emotions dictate a grueling yoga routine for the rest of my class. As everyone else was fighting for their lives, my gaze kept swinging to Colton like a grandfather clock, wondering what he was thinking while also calculating how long I could avoid him.
But the longer I sidestep Colton, the more people will sense that something is off between us. Ignoring him could ruin the image we’ve been trying to create. So far, our ratings have gone up significantly since we started flirting in front of the cameras. But if we stop acting googly-eyed for much longer, we’re jeopardizing our spot in this game, Colton’s future job, and my dreams.
No, I can’t have that. I need to show America that I still have feelings for Colton. The problem is, I think I actually do …
“You still in there?” Maria says, snagging me out of my thoughts.
I blink. “Um, yeah. Yes!” I laugh nervously, knowing just how intuitive Maria can be. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.” I brush off a few leaves from my backside and smile casually at her.
“You have lots on your mind, Mija. I get it.” Maria winks. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you were daydreaming about a certain teammate.”
“I wasn’t daydreaming about him,” I defend, but then I remember I’m on TV and quickly course correct. “Okay, maybe a little,” I say, but this time when I allude to my feelings for Colton, it doesn’t fly off my tongue as easily as it has in days past; instead, I feel like I’ve just admitted a deeply personal secret to the world.
I wrap my arms around my waist, staving off the unpleasant goosebumps appearing on my skin.
“Do you need help?” Maria asks, bringing me back to the reason I’m in the jungle in the first place.
