“You don’t think I know that?”
“Why are you here, then?”
“Why areyouhere?” he challenged. “I’m pretty sure for the same reason I am.”
“So then you don’t actually hate everyone?”
“No, I hate everyone,” he said with that strange ogre smile. There was a pause and then, as if he were trying not to offend, he added, “present company excluded.”
“Well, thank you,” I beamed. “But, this is the first conversation we’ve ever had, and look, we hit it off. Don’t you think maybe if you gave the others a chance, you might be surprised?”
Carl considered my words for a moment and then shook his head. “Gene’s an anal retentive big mouth. Summer believes in unicorns. Really? I mean, come on, unicorns, Kenzie! Bobby’s a candy-ass prick. Aisha,” he stopped, looked around nervously, then whispered, “I think she’s a Scientologist. And Dale, he does that weird mouth breather thing. Kyle, I’m pretty sure he was a crack baby. And Marsha, she’s just bat-shit crazy.”
His overly critical assessment of our tribe mates surprised, amused, and concerned me. Is this how we were seen by viewers, or was it just a grumpy guy’s ramblings?
“Geez, Carl, tell me how you really feel.”
He shrugged his enormous shoulders in response.
“Do I even want to know what you labeled me?” I asked, slightly worried.
Carl caught my eye and I saw a flicker of gaiety before he averted them. “Probably not.”
I smiled, and then stood up and stoked the fire. “I hope you realize that you’re going to need these people to get to the end.”
“Do you think I like being this way?” he groused. As he dipped his head forward, I noticed Carl’s body slump under the weight of his own hang-ups. “I can’t help it. I’ve never been good with social interactions. When I was a kid, I got picked on pretty fiercely. I mean, look at me. I was a freak, over six feet tall at the age of nine. I guess I just assume people are making fun of me at all times, so that’s why I’m not nice back.”
“That’s pretty cynical thinking,” I said, leaving the fire to sit down next to him on the log. “You stand out, obviously, but that doesn’t mean people are making fun of you. They’re just fascinated.”
“Yeah, well, I never asked to be a seven-foot-two-inch-tall freak.”
“And I never asked to be a motherless eight-year-old. We don’t always get to choose, Carl.”
My very personal admission shut Carl down. He shifted uncomfortably. If I didn’t take action now, the two of us would fall back into that painful silence.
“Oh, stop,” I smiled.
“Now I feel bad.”
“Don’t. I wasn’t whining; just stating a fact. You know, when I first saw you, I admit, I was mesmerized by your overall appearance. But I wanted to get to know you.Youwere the one that put up the wall.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I need to be less defensive. I get that.”
He seemed so vulnerable. A variety of emotions were swirling around inside my head for this guy. He was like a sweet, wounded man living inside a crotchety giant’s body. Suddenly I felt the need to protect him. Reaching out, I touched his massive shoulder, my hand dwarfed in comparison.
“Would you let me help you?” I asked.
“How?”
“With your social game. You won’t last long out here without one.”
Carl eyed me, a look of disbelief evident on his face. “Why would you do that?”
I understood his skepticism. Why would I help him? He was basically the enemy. If I were really playing the game only to win, I’d let him choke on his own neuroses. His misfortune was my gain, after all. But I’d already grown attached to Carl, and I couldn’t just leave him hanging. Tomorrow I’d start playing a ruthless game, but tonight, I was just Kenzie, the girl who put everyone else first.
“I like you. No other reason. Tomorrow we start your cotillion lessons.”
* * *
