“I had faith in Seyoon’s plan,” Vendredi says, readjusting her bonnet. Seeing how upset she was earlier was heartbreaking; I’m glad the light is back in her eyes. “Where’d you get that idea, anyway?”
My smile falters. “Saw it in a movie or something.”
Dean hums. “I don’t want to inflate your ego any more than it already is, Seyoon, but I have to admit, it was a good prank.”
I give in to my urge to ruffle his hair. It’s softer than I expected. “You’re so in love with me, it makes you look stupid.”
“Watch yourself.”
Vendredi laughs. There’s a glimmer of amusement in her eyes as she looks between us. “You guys remind me of me and my girlfriend when we first started dating,” she teases. “I know we’re on a reality show and all, and it’s probably not the most ideal place to form a lasting relationship, but I have a good feeling about you two. You complement each other.”
My ears warm. Dean sits up. I make the mistake of locking eyes with him.
“Um,” he says. “I’m—I’m probably going to get some shut-eye now.” Dean stands. There’s a loose twig caught in his curl, but I don’t bring it up. He pulls his hoodie over his head and shoots us each a hesitant but earnest smile. “This was fun, though.”
Vendredi and I watch him hurry back to the cabin. He looks back once, right before he closes the door.
“Sorry,” Vendredi says, sheepish. “Didn’t mean to embarrass you guys.”
“It’s okay. It’s just… new, you know?” I say, an inkling of guilt biting my side. It’s different when the cameras are off. When they’re on, Dean and I are performing. Now, though? Now I’m just lying to her face.
“Well, if you want advice, you know where I sleep. Juliet and I have been together for almost three years. I’mverywell versed in this sort of thing.”
Vendredi wags her eyebrows at me, and I snort. A question that’s been nagging at the back of my head all night creeps to the forefront of my mind now.
“Actually,” I start. “There was something I wanted to ask you. Not about relationships. But something you said earlier.”
“Hit me.”
“You mentioned not caring about family legacies or what your mom thinks of you.” She stiffens. I feel bad but press on lightly. “I know you didn’t want to talk about it in front of everyone, but do you want to tell me about it?
It’s uncomfortable to admit. Vendredi looks sympathetically at me. Maybe it’s what gets her talking.
“It’s complicated with my mom. She was never around, and even when she was, she wasn’treallythere, you know?”
I swallow. I do.
“Luckily, I have an amazing dad. He’s all I need. And he totally supports my goal of going into acting.” Vendredi shrugs. “That’s the only reason I’m here. To get my face out there, not to follow in my mom’s footsteps or anything. I don’t even care about winning the prize after seeing how that kind of money changed her.”
My mind whirs, trying to wrap itself around the idea ofnot caring. It’s impossible. I sit up on my knees. “You don’t want to win so you can rub it in your mom’s face?” I ask. “Not even a little bit?”
Vendredi laughs—the last thing I expect her to do. “No. I don’t think of my mom that much. I certainly don’t think of her here. Wherever she is right now, I know for a fact she’s not thinking about me either.”
My lung collapses, air oozing out of me like a deflated balloon. “Oh.”
She stands and offers me her hand. I take it, grateful, because my knees don’t feel as steady now. I probably overexerted my muscles hauling Carter and his mattress. Yeah, that’s it.
“Why’d you ask?” Vendredi says as we head toward the cabin. I match her slow, leisurely pace, watching the way the grass flexes under our feet. Suddenly, I’m embarrassed to explain how much it means to me that Appa sees me win. How badly I need to prove him wrong. The only thing it proves is that I haven’t stopped caring about what he thinks, even though he doesn’t give a damn. Admitting that, even just in the privacy of my head, makes me feel small.
Vendredi hears something in my silence I didn’t mean for her to. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s none of my business.”
She didn’t have to tellmeeither, though. I clear my throat.
“I had this best friend,” I blurt. Vendredi stops walking. I realize it’s because I stopped first. My feet plant in the ground, toes digging into the cold soil, as if to bury myself under it. Oh God. Why did I say that? Since when does the Agonizing Amelia Incident of Junior Year have anything to do with why I’m here?
“Yeah?” Vendredi encourages.
It was Amelia, by the way. She’s who I got the mattress prank from. One time, I fell asleep first at one of our sleepovers, and she carried me and my sleeping bag into the backyard. It became one of our longest running jokes, taking turns dragging the other person farther away from the house each time, then dying of laughter when the other would bolt awake in confusion. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell Vendredi that when she asked.
