Chapter 26
MISSY
· DAY 18 ·
“And Team Teal wins!” Niall’s voice booms.
We won. We won! We’d gotten our flare into the sky a millisecond before Team Fuchsia, and we won. I grapple for air, finally breathing, and a feeling like pure sunlight rushes into me. Somewhere in my subconscious, I hear Niall and theSunsets and Sabotagecrew clapping and cheering for us, but I can hardly process what just happened, let alone the sounds around me.
We did it.
I’m in Colton’s arms before I know it, my hands looping around his neck. I squeal into the fabric of his shirt, unable to contain my joy. “Did that really just happen?”
Colton’s arms tighten around me. My feet leave the sand as he lifts and twirls me in a fit of excitement.
“We did it. We did it, Missy Jean,” Colton says.
Though our heads are nestled together, and I can’t see his face, there is a jubilant smile behind every word he speaks.
We did it. The Red Curtain. Something to Glow About. Colton’s future job. They are no longer dreams; they are our reality.
Gently, Colton sets me on the ground.
I pull my head back so that I can see his face. “We did it, Colton.”
With our arms still around each other, our conversation turns wordless. The cheers, the voices, the commotion around us, it’s all drowned out by the words I feel pouring from Colton’s gaze and the way he encircles me in his arms. I tuck myself into him, curling my head against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. His hand comes up to cradle the back of my neck, and I feel as delicate as porcelain and as cherished as a childhood memory. He holds me so perfectly, with seemingly no intention of letting go. In the span of a single moment, the thrill of winning is eclipsed by the words I feel he’s trying to say. The words I feel so deeply.
“Missy …” Colton says.
I tilt my chin up, looking at him, desperate to hear the next words from his lips. His eyes connect with mine, flashing to a bright blue. The heat of his gaze penetrates my skin, setting my body ablaze. “Missy Jean, I …”
“Team Teal, you’ve just wonSunsets and SabotageSeason Twenty-Three. How do you feel?” Niall claps Colton on the shoulder, stopping Colton from finishing his sentence.
Colton steps away, dropping his arms from around me. His warmth is instantly replaced by the cool wind. The perfectly beautiful moment from two seconds earlier vanishes as a boom mic plants itself above us and two cameras and their operators press into our faces. In my peripheral vision, I spot Team Fuchsia as they slump down on the ground, angry and silent, making them feel ten times more deadly than usual. Beside them, Bill and Maria stride toward us through the sand. A pang of guilt stretches inside me for Team Amber’s loss, but Maria’s smile says she’s nothing but happy for our win.
Niall wastes no time, peppering us with questions as two gigantic metal-and-glass plaques with the words “Sunsets and SabotageSeason Twenty-Three Winner” printed across them are shoved into our hands, along with massive bouquets of beautiful tropical flowers.
Eventually, Bill and Maria make it through the onslaught of cameras, and they embrace us with congratulatory hugs. And though they are both smiling, I see a burst of pain cut through Maria’s expression. I instantly feel worried for my friend, but then she pats my shoulder reassuringly. Too soon, Bill and Maria get pushed aside by theSunsets and Sabotagephotographers, who eagerly snap photos of Colton and me holding our plaques and flowers and talking with Niall.
It’s as if I’ve won Miss Tennessee State all over again with how short the victory feels. One moment, I’m desperately trying to comprehend the impossible odds of winning, and the next, I feel impossibly overwhelmed and overcrowded, wishing I had just a few seconds to stop and think and reorient myself to my new reality.
Niall presses himself between me and Colton, draping his arms around our shoulders and looking directly at the camera in front of us. “If you want to get the inside scoop on Team Teal’s victory—their ups, their downs, and all the moments in between—stay tuned for this afternoon’s winners’ interview. I guarantee you won’t want to miss it. I’m your host, Niall Bose, and these are yourSunsets and SabotageSeason Twenty-Three winners.”
Niall claps his hands, congratulating us until a man next to the camera yells cut, then Niall’s ushered onto one of five golf carts that line a small dirt road carved out in the jungle behind us.
Benji, the drone-and-tech specialist, collects our lapel mics and cameras, and then Colton and I are motioned to our own golf cart behind Niall’s. We sit down in the back seat, but with all of the accessories we’ve been given, it’s like we have two full-grown peacocks trying to squeeze in the back with us. Through my bouquet of flowers, I see our golf cart driver turn the key, and the golf cart purrs to life. I take this moment to glance back at Sabotage Island. I feel like I can almost spot the Bunk Hut that Colton and I had been in just last night, but the golf cart jolts forward, and all too soon, the image is gone, just like Sabotage Island.
Not long after, we arrive at a large airplane hangar, not unlike the one Colton and I were brought to by the airport shuttle on our first day. I instantly get swept up by a team of makeup-and-hair specialists who are ready to prepare me for theSunsets and Sabotagewinners’ interview happening in just over an hour. They funnel me into the women’s bathroom equipped with rows of enclosed showers, sinks, and mirrors. And within minutes, I’m showered off. All the sweat and dirt is removed from my body as if the past eighteen days never existed, replaced by the sweet smell of lavender-mint body wash.
Moments later, I’m pressed into a salon chair where one person does my makeup, one my nails, one my hair, and another plucks my eyebrows. Every action they make toward glamoured perfection makes it feel like they’re erasing my weeks on the island. Weeks I’m reluctant to forget. Maybe not so much the sweat, the hunger, or the restless nights, but the friendships, thevictories, the lessons I’ve learned, and Colton. Most especially Colton.
I glance around, hoping to spot Colton in the large prep room full of brightly lit mirrors and white salon chairs, but my bustling makeup specialist makes it difficult to see anything beyond the shimmering smoky eyeshadow on the makeup brush or the foundation getting blotted over the fading scar on my cheek. The plucking specialist tells me to stay still, so I lean back and occupy my time by wondering if Colton’s feeling the way I’m feeling right now. Like the past weeks are becoming just that—the past.
An unsettling fear works through me at the thought, and it’s all I can do not to squirm out of my chair before my makeup-and-hair team finishes and I’m rushed off to the dressing room.
“You look fantastic. It’s like I picked the gown out myself,” my wardrobe stylist, Aymee, says.
I give a light laugh, smiling at her before she turns me toward a full-length mirror in one of the six dressing rooms. My eyes widen at the sight. I thought the pink dress I’d worn on the opening night was the prettiest dress I’d ever seen, but this … this is perfection. The silky midnight-blue material flows seamlessly down the full length of my body, hugging my curves in all the best ways. But it’s the tiny hand-stitched crystals that swirl from my right shoulder to the hem of my dress that make my breath stop. I’m wearing a constellation of stars.
