Beck shoots her a confused look, and my ears warm.
Oh.
“That’s okay. Actually, I just remembered I have an appointment,” I blurt. My skin gets hotter. I notice the camera operator at the neighboring table now, tracking us. “I mean meeting. I mean—”
Alright, leaving now.
I turn on my heel, ignoring the brief crumpled expression of regret on Vendredi’s face. Okay. So the firstandsecond attempt to make friends didn’t work out. That’s fine. You know what they say about the third time.
I look around the rest of the cafeteria, at the several camera people milling about, capturing all our interactions. The positive and the painful ones. How many failures of mine have already been documented today? Do I really need another?
… Maybe I’ll wait to try again.
I toss my dinner into the trash on my way out, not that hungry anymore.
9
TWO RIVALS, ONE BUNK BED
DEAN
Garrett and Blake are there after dinner to personally escort us to our cabin so we can begin assigning bunks, a team of cameras close behind them. Even after just one day with those glassy, all-seeing screens following me around, my senses are chafed.
The cabin itself is quaint but charming. The dark oak logs of the walls have been decorated with warm, homey string lights. I scan along the ceiling, my suspicions confirmed when I spot cameras tucked into the corners of the room. It seems like a lawsuit waiting to happen, but reality TV is known for its blatant disregard for privacy. I’m not surprised, but I’m not thrilled, either.
More concerning are the bunk beds. There are double-decker bunks along each wall of the room, with a dresser on either side of each bed. Our luggage sits next to the door, waiting to be collected.
Adin, trailing in behind me, hacks and pounds on his broad chest. “Has this place not been aired out since our folks were staying here?”
“Think of it as inhaling a piece of history. A souvenir you get to keep in your lungs forever,” Garrett says. “Now then. Carter gets first dibs on beds, then Dean, then down the ranks, depending on how you placed.”
Carter picks the bottom bunk in the farthest corner, so I pick the one on the opposite wall. It goes down the line until people start pairing up one by one, leaving only the last contestant.
Damnit.
“Don’t look so excited,” Seyoon grumbles at me as she flings her duffel bag on the ground next to my bunk. She hesitates, glancing at the empty loft bed. “Could I maybe have the bottom bunk?”
“That defeats the purpose of picking based on ranks,” I reply.
She crosses her arms and glares. “I move around a lot in my sleep, okay? So if I roll off the top bunk, fall, and break every bone in my body, it’ll be your fault. Can your conscience handle that?”
Probably, but I’d like to avoid hearing springs squeaking above me all night, so I haul myself up and onto the loft bed. Seyoon gives me a tight-lipped smile, probably her version of a thank-you.
Chatter flits through the cabin as everyone settles in. I stay where I am, frowning up at the oak ceiling. I wish I had my phone to tinker with as an excuse to not socialize. Even if I wanted to, I have no idea how I’d insert myself into any of these conversations. I’m oil on water. Bleach in vinegar. Similar to the side effects of chlorine gas that is produced when you mix those, my attempts at socializing cause breathing difficulties, watery eyes, nausea, and headaches for all those involved.
Garrett sidles up to one of the bunk beds and knocks on the post, getting our attention. “Glad to see you’re all getting cozy! Before ol’ Blakey and I head out and let you get some rest, I just have one more parting piece of advice for you all. Remember earlier today, when I said there’d be an opportunity to win points outside of challenges?”
Seyoon’s mattress creaks below mine as she sits up. “You did?”
“Does no one listen to me?”
“Well, what is it?” asks Beck.
Garrett ambles to the center of the room, hands crossed behind his back as he turns in a slow circle, eyeing us with amusement.
“As you know,Forest Feudis the name, butfamilyis the game. We and the studio network aren’t shying away from the whole legacy shtick, and neither should you,” he says. “You’re all here because of your past connections, so now we want to encourage you to make a few of your own.”
Aeneas, in the bunk closest to him, raises their hand hesitantly. “Um, sorry, what does that—”
