Filming wraps. They load up the equipment first, giving us a few minutes to catch our breath before heading back to camp. I plop down on the edge of the stage as everyone starts clearing the area and walking toward the bus. I see Dad catch up to Garrett and talk to him for a few minutes, then he comes to join me. Our legs hang off the edge.
“Damn,” he says. “I didn’t see the final score, but there’s no way you’re not in the lead. Youkilledthat, Dean. You made your old man real proud.”
I chuckle, the adrenaline finally wearing off and leaving me drained. “Thank God for weekly TV nights.”
Dad’s grin fades. “That, uh, was unfortunate about that partner of yours, though. Is she… always like that?”
The urge to defend Seyoon rises like bile. I swallow it down on reflex, until I remember the way her voice cracked when she apologized before running off stage, and the words spill out. “Seyoon’s the strongest person I’ve met, in these games or out.”
Dad sighs. He’s not listening to me, not really. He scoots closer and lowers his voice. “Hey. I checked with Garrett on the rules. If you end your alliance before elimination, they’ll divide your points by which questions you answered. You’d keep the majority, obviously.That means you won’t pay for the deduction she got, and you won’t split what you earned.”
His words ping-pong around my brain. I don’t know which train of thought to hold on to first. “Why would you ask Garrett that? I’m not going to—”
“Did you or did you not come here to win?” Dad cuts me off.
Because of course he’s not listening to me. Of course he doesn’t understand me. He gives me a sympathetic look, but it just makes me feel like a child.
“Buddy, I know this is tough. I’ve been there. That’s why I’m trying to help you. Learn from my mistakes. Your alliance has to end sometime.”
It has to endsometime.
I’ve known that from the very second Seyoon suggested we team up. Only one of us can win. The numbers run automatically in my head. Did I answer enough questions? Who earned the most points? It was such chaos, there’s no way I could have kept track of what was going on, but I know it must be tight. Splitting the points will make things tighter.
And yet, that’s the last thing I care about right now.
I stand up. My vision swarms, but I hold my ground and my voice steady. “Seyoon’s not just my teammate. She’s my friend. I’m not going to betray her, and I don’t care if you disagree.”
Dad rises to his feet too. His face pulls down. “What has gotten into you? This isn’t like you.”
It occurs to me that I can still turn back. I don’t have to shatter the safe, comfortable dynamic we have. Theonlything we have. The idea of venturing forward is terrifying.
But if Seyoon were here, she’d speak up. And knowing her, even for the small amount of time I have, has turned me into the kind of person who doesn’t want to be paralyzed by fear anymore.
“Thisisme, Dad. And this is my decision to make, not yours.” My voice raises with every word, steadier than I actually feel. “I know you think I need you looking out for me, but I don’t. I need you to trust me.Weneed you to trustus—me and Meredith.”
“Meredith?” he asks, stunned. “What does this have to do with Meredith?”
“Everything.” I take a deep breath and try again, calmer. “I know we’re your kids, but you can’t treat us like children anymore. You may not understand our choices, but you have to respect them. Can you do that for us, please? Both of us.”
I’ve never seen this look on Dad’s face before. The wide eyes, the screwed brows, the parted mouth. This is it. New territory. Even though it scares me, the knowledge that Meredith would be proud of me makes it easier. I’m finally standing up for myself. For her. For Seyoon.
Dad’s silence is dreadful. But, eventually, he sighs, and it sounds like conceding.
“You really are like your mom,” he says gently. “You’re right; I don’t understand. But I guess I don’t have to. I love you, Dean, and I don’t want to push you away. I’ll respect whatever decisions you make, here and back home.” He rubs the side of his neck. “Meredith’s too. I trust the both of you to do what’s right for yourselves.”
I take a careful deep breath. “Really?”
Dad smiles. “Yeah. Of course. I know you won’t let me down.”
A smile spreads across my own face, mirroring his for the first time. “I won’t.”
33
OKAY, STUART LITTLE’S NOT SO BAD, ACTUALLY
SEYOON
Umma, the kind, merciful soul that she is, pretends to believe me when I tell her I’m just feeling sick. Maybe it’s because I do look pale and weak, or because both of us know that telling the truth wouldn’t change anything. On the solemn ride back to Mount Rainier, she lets me rest my head on her shoulder and rubs my abdomen, quietly humming the Korean song she would sing to me when I was a child with a stomachache.
