The ring light is still on, and it lets me get a good look at Garrett’s face. It’s jarring, how he can be such an overeager idiot for the cameras one second, then so eerily intelligent the next. I swallow, shifting under his intense, curious gaze. I cross my arms over my chest and lean farther away.
“You don’t need to pretend like you care, one way or another,” I say. I nod to the camera on the other wall. “You turned that thing off already.”
“Do you really think that little of me?”
“Yes?”
Garrett doesn’t laugh it off like I’d expected him to. “With my history with your dad, I guess I can’t blame you. Weweregood friends, though. Up until the end.”
“Then, why’d you betray his trust?”
“Like you did with Seyoon today?”
The blood drains from my face.
Some of that sharp brightness in Garrett’s eyes softens. “Hey, I get it. If anyone understands what you’re feeling right now, it’d be me. That’s why I asked how you’re doing. ’Cause I know it’s a pretty shitty feeling to play the game, and to play it as well as you did.”
Viewing Garrett and myself in the same light makes me uncomfortable, but now that he’s drawn the comparison, I can’t help but see it. I’m not the strong, macho player Dad was in his day. Seyoon’s mom was athletically inclined, too, and clever. Garrett was the odd one out in their trio, the runt. I didn’t expect him to make it to the final three, but once he did, I thought the other two would sweep him. But then he tricked them into going down the wrong path in the final obstacle rope course, and I realize that’s exactly why he won. Because everyone underestimated how smart he was. No one expected much from him. The same way I still don’t, now. The same way people never expect much from me, either.
Seyoon, though? Seyoon expected more from me.
I stuff my hands into my hoodie pocket, twisting my fingers. “Do you… regret being that kind of player?”
He hums, sucking his teeth, thinking. “No. But I do wish I had made things right after.”
It just confuses me more. Why would Garrett want me to make things right with Seyoon? How does he benefit from that?
Garrett chuckles and stands. “Those wheels are turning so hard in your head, I can practically hear them. You know, youcanjust take some things at face value instead of overthinking every single thing anyone says to you.”
I have never done that before in my life and have no intention of starting now.
Garrett pats the wall of the shed as he exits. The guilt sloshes against my insides, painting them slick, threatening to drown my lungs in oil. I try to ignore it the whole trek to the infirmary, thinking it’ll wash away any second now.
I’m an idiot. The whole world will see how I let my emotions, my fears, get the best of me. Dad and Meredith will see that I didn’t take Seyoon’s side, that I didn’t speak up for what was right. Because even though I know I was right, she was too. Thinking about the fool I’ve made of myself in front of everyone at camp—and, once this airs—thenation, makes my stomach sink like I swallowed a stone.
But what sticks with me through it all, heavier, worse than the embarrassment, is the shame. I disappointed Seyoon.
I finally admit what I’ve been repressing all day: that I’m more upset with myself for letting her down than anything else. Why? What she thinks of me shouldn’t matter. We’re competitors at the end of the day. I shouldn’t care about her.
But I do. I really do.
25
THIS EDITOR’S SUITE IS NOT VERY SWEET
SEYOON
I’m glad elimination got pushed. For the general safety of the public, that is; I’m in no shape to be around others. But at the same time, having nothing to do is only making the agitating, restless anger in me worse.
I’m on my way to hang out in the Communal Cabin so I don’t run into Dean (and fold him like a pretzel in a fit of anger), when Luke, Garrett’s assistant, intercepts me.
“Miss Shin—”
“You can just call me Seyoon. I’m, like, twenty years younger than you.”
“Twenty is…” Luke sighs so hard, I think I’ve aged him another five years. “Never mind. Blake wants to speak with you. Follow me.”
I trail after him as he leads me to the Crew’s Cabin. It feels illegal to enter, like sneaking into the teacher’s lounge at school (which isn’t actually a very interesting place and wasn’t worth getting detention for). It’s similar to the Communal Cabin, with several large foyer rooms and high, vaulted ceilings. There are folding tables everywhere; makeshift workstations for the crew members to fiddle with their equipment on and review the hundreds of papers scattered across every flat surface. At the far end of the first floor areseveral doors. Luke opens the one with the signEditor’s Suiteand ushers me inside.
