Of course, if Harmony doesn’t choose me ...
The heavily processed buffalo meat isn’t the only thing curdling in my belly now. No. I can’t let myself go there. Not now. Even if my thoughts have been full of Nina all day. Even if I dreamed about her all last night. Even if my heart feels empty when she isn’t with me. Homesick.
Nate R. doesn’t feel any of those things. Shaking my head, I do my best to clear my thoughts of anything but him and the mission I’m trying so desperately to fulfill.
Luckily, Harmony is the first Mountainette up to make her decision. One way or the other, I’ll be put out of my misery sooner rather than later.
Harmony regards each of her four finalists—Everett, Kyle, Jake, and me—somehow managing to maintain a straight face even though tonight her outfit is almost as ridiculous as ours: a pink flannel dress, black boots, and a black beaver hat. For the record, we are each wearing overalls with no shirts underneath, a faux–fox face hat, and we’re barefoot. I honestly am not entirely sure what weird mountain herbs Sienna Diaz and Raquel Ezra are smoking at this point, but this whole experience has been like a weird fever dream with banjos—and that’s not even including the part where I reconnected with the nun I once met in prison.
“This journey has helped me grow so much,” Harmony tells us. “For the first time, I feel as strong and steady as a mountain.”
Keep a straight face, I remind myself. Nate R. would find this speech moving, not horribly cheesy.
“And I truly want to thank each of you for your role in that,” she concludes, then turns to pick up the first ceremonial axe. “Everett—will you break bread with my kin?”
Beside me, Everett steps forward, taking the axe from Harmony. “I will,” he tells her, before plunging the ceremonial axe into the love stump.
When he returns, Harmony regards us each in turn, her face solemn. “Jake,” she says next.
I let out a breath as Jake goes forward to thrust his ceremonial axe into the heart-shaped stump. That leaves only one more axe for Harmony to give out. My heart is racing, my palms sweating, even though I still don’t know what outcome I’m most hoping for. My entire body clenches as I wait to hear whose name Harmony will call.
After a long, dramatic pause, timed by the producers off-screen, Harmony is cued into picking up the third ceremonial axe. Another beat, before finally she says the name: “Nate R.”
I’m so nervous that it takes my stupid brain a moment to catch up. That’s me. I’m through to the final round. I’m going to meet Aaron Miller.
On shaking legs, I step forward, doing my best to smile my easy Nate R. smile as I stand before Harmony. “Nate R., will you break bread with my kin?” she asks.
“Absolutely.” I grin broadly, like I don’t have a care in the world.
Ido, of course, but Nate R. doesn’t. Nate R. wants this more than anything else he can imagine. Nate R. is all in.
As filming moves on to the next Mountainette, the remaining members of Team Harmony are ushered to a separate area away from the cameras. Everett and Jake are pulled to do their confessionals, leaving me with Harmony and her producer.
Harmony levels the other woman with a meaningful look. “Didn’t you want to go check on the mics ... ?” she asks her.
The producer nods way too vehemently for it to be convincing, unable to stop herself from glancing over at me. “Right. Of course. The mics ...”
So, this obviously isn’t about the mics. But I don’t know that Nate R. would be self-aware enough to figure that out, so I pretend to be oblivious as the producer excuses herself to leave me and Harmony.
Alone.
My head swims. This is the first time we’ve really been alone together. No cameras on us. No producers shadowing us. There’s a whole Axing Ceremony going on fifteen feet away, so no one’s paying any attention to us. I wonder what it is that Harmony’s so desperate to say to me.
I pretend to be oblivious to the situation for as long as I can, until Harmony clears her throat. We’re standing so close that I can’t pretend not to hear her. Forcing a smile, I turn to her.You’re Nate R., I remind myself harshly.You like this girl. “Wanted to get me alone pretty bad, huh?” I tease her with a wink.
I hate myself for all the winking. But what’s done is done. And Harmony beams back at me; clearly she doesn’t mind it so much. She coyly twirls a strand of her hair, smiling at me. “You know, you’re my only contestant I haven’t kissed yet.”
Fuuuuuuuuuuck. It takes all of my self-control to keep my expression devoid of what I’m feeling right now. I’m blinking too much, but otherwise, I think I almost manage to pull it off. “Is that so?”
“You’re meeting my family tomorrow,” Harmony reminds me. “We’re down to my final three. Don’t you think it’s time to pucker up? See if we have as much chemistry as I think we do?”
I feel sick to my stomach. It isn’t Harmony’s fault. If I were anyone else, if she wassomeoneelse in particular ... But I can’t help but think of Nina melting into my arms last night. She trusts me. I can’t betray that.
Nate R. isn’t betraying anyone, I try to remind myself, but it doesn’t work this time. I can divorce myself from my own wants and needs in most things, but not this. Not from my own heart. It wants Nina, and only Nina.
“I’m waiting for engagement,” I blurt out.
The words escape my mouth before I fully consider them, but now that they’re out there, I realize I might be much smarter than I look. Even Morrie couldn’t call me a complete idiot in this situation. Harmony’s super religious. Thus, Nate R. is super religious. And sometimes, super religious people wait for physical steps in relationships (like kissing) until they’ve reached certain milestones (like engagement).
