‘What about you? Excited to see Patrick?’ she asks. I guess Bridget has been keeping up with me better than I have her.
‘Yeah,’ I say, unconvincingly. Until now, I’d not considered that Patrick might be seeing more than one woman today.
The front door to the dorms slams as Dolly walks back in, with some of the production team in tow. They call us over to get mic’d up, while Dolly goes to stand with Whit, her backslightly to me so I can see the black wire of her mic snaking around her neck.
If she’s just seeing Warren today and things don’t work out, does that mean tonight might be the last time we are together? If we both get dumped, we will both have to leave the warehouse.
My stomach hurts at the thought.
Because she’s a good friend. Because she lives far away and it’ll be hard to stay in contact. Because because because definitely not because I might—
‘Carys?’ I’m summoned from my thoughts as we are corralled to our doors, ready for our dates.
The wire snaking down my back makes me shiver. I do not look at Dolly.
Light on, cameras in the walls roll. Action.
When I walk in, the mirror barrier is still there. This feels like it could be a date just like any from the last few days – me and a plush couch, staring at my reflection, and trying not to panic.
Except I know that that divider is going to fall any moment.
I sit down neatly. If the barrier is going to suddenly crash down, I want him to see me looking my best. My most controlled.
‘Morning!’ Patrick calls cheerily, his voice coming through the speakers as usual.
‘Hi! Hi, it’s me, Carys.’
‘I know, Carys.’ I swear I can hear the smile as he says my name. ‘I’d recognise your voice anywhere. How are you doing today?’
‘I’m nervous,’ I admit, and then immediately regret it. ‘Not about seeing you. More about—’
‘Revealing ourselves, right?’
‘Yes.’ I’m thankful that he gets it. ‘I hope you like me.’
‘I adore you, Carys.’ My heart flutters in my chest. Headores me? Patrickadoresme? I’m not sure a man has told me they adore me before.
‘Carys and Patrick?’ A voice sounds from the speaker, though I can’t be sure who it is. ‘The barrier is going to come down in a moment, so could you both please stand? We need to remind you that this date is strictly no touching.’
‘Oh gosh, here we go then,’ Patrick says. The same Patrick I’m about to be able to see.
I stand up slowly, trying to keep my quivering heart and soul inside my body. ‘What if we close our eyes,’ I rush out, ‘and then when the barrier is fully down, we open our eyes at the same time?’
‘Okay, I’ve closed my eyes.’
I close mine. ‘Promise?’
‘Promise. I’d make it a pinkie promise but this is a No Touching Zone.’
I giggle. ‘Hands where I can see them, Stringer.’
There’s a rumbling as the barrier comes down.
My fingers yearn to flick to shake out the nerves and redirect all that energy out through my extremities.
But I am being filmed, and Patrick is about to see me for the first time. I don’t want his first impression of me to be frantic, even if that’s how I feel inside. Even if that’s how I feel a lot of the time.
I clutch my hands together in front of me, the way I’ve been practising since I was small. It looks delicate. It looks quiet.
