For Real(39)

I flinch away from him. “No thanks, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? ’Cause I’m reeeeeally good at—”

“Seriously, Troy,” I snap. “The cameras aren’t even on, so knock it off, okay?” It comes out a little louder than I intended, and Vanessa snickers behind me.

“Jesus, Claire, I’m just trying to help. I’m not going to give you cooties if I touch you.” When I don’t respond, he says, “Fine. Whatever. Enjoy that stick up your butt.” He turns around to chat with Blake, and I ride the rest of the way in silence.

A producer hands me my key when I enter the hotel lobby, and I go straight to my room, drop my pack, and collapse facedown on the bed. Usually I’m one of those people who won’t even sit on a hotel bed until I’ve removed the top blanket—I’ve seen those Dateline specials about germs—but right now I’m so tired I’d lie in a bed covered with other people’s chewed gum.

I’m floating in and out of consciousness, dreaming about alligator-shark wrestling, when a producer knocks on the door and calls, “Claire? We’re ready for you.” I shuffle down the hall after her in a stupor, trying to tame my staticky hair. It feels like this day is never going to end.

There are two interview stations set up in a small exterior courtyard full of palm trees and orchids—just like I thought the airport would be—and the producer points me toward the one on the left. I expect to find Will chatting with a producer when I make my way around the backdrop, but instead, Miranda’s sitting in the far chair. Her eyes light up when she sees me, and she jumps to her feet and hugs me fiercely. She smells like chlorine and fish and sweat, but underneath is the familiar, cocoa-butter scent of my sister. Out here in the middle of Indonesia, where everything is so alien, that smell and the feel of her arms around me are such a relief that I want to cry. Being with her feels like being home.

“Clairie,” she says, close to my ear. “I’m so glad to see you. Are you all right?”

“Of course,” I say, confused. “Should I not be?”

She pulls back to look at me. “I hated having you off on your own today, when we were supposed to be together. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to—”

The producer cuts her off, and it’s only then that I remember he’s even there. “Hi, Claire, I’m Ken,” he says. “I need to ask you guys some questions, okay? We’re running on a tight schedule.”

“Oh. Right.” I manage to muster up a smile for him. “Hi there.”

“Go ahead and sit down,” Ken says, and I slide onto the folding chair next to Miranda’s. She gives my shoulder a little squeeze, like she has to keep reassuring herself that I’m here and in one piece.

“Now, let’s start at the beginning. How do you guys feel about the show’s twist? Were you surprised to discover that the race has a romantic component?”

“Yeah, we were both pretty shocked,” I say.

“Could you rephrase that for me, using a full sentence? Like, ‘We were both pretty shocked by the twist’?”

Oh, right—when they air this interview, they’ll edit Ken out. “We were both pretty shocked by the twist,” I repeat. “It’s safe to say we wouldn’t have auditioned for the race if we had known it had a romantic aspect.”

“Definitely not,” Miranda agrees.

“And why is that?” Ken prompts. He obviously knows, but he wants Miranda to say it on camera.

“Samir is my ex-boyfriend, and he cheated on me with Janine,” Miranda says. “They’re pretty much my least favorite people in the world right now. The only reason Claire and I even came on the show was to prevent Samir from winning. But I thought it would be us against them, and if I’d known there was a chance I’d have to race with him, I would have stayed away for sure.”

Ken nods. “Claire, how do you feel about the romantic nature of the show?”

While I’m considering how to phrase my answer, Miranda starts talking again. “Claire doesn’t have the same problem I do, obviously, but these kinds of challenges are going to be a bit of a stretch for her. I’m really impressed with her for getting through today. I was so worried about her.”

I don’t like where she’s going with this, and my stomach twists uncomfortably. “I’m fine,” I say. “Totally unscathed, see?”

“Why are you concerned about Claire’s ability to do these challenges?” presses Ken, like I’m not even here.

“Well, I mean, she’s clearly the youngest one on the race, and the show is more … mature than we were expecting. I’m sure everyone here was equally surprised by the twist, but the rest of us have probably had intimate experiences in the past, so it’s not that big a deal. But if you’ve never really experienced romance before … well, this isn’t exactly the best way to get your feet wet, you know? It would be so easy for her to get hurt.”

I gape at my sister. “You don’t get any say in how I ‘experience romance’! And you don’t know anything about my history with ‘intimate experiences.’ You’ve been gone for the last four years.”

Concern flits over her face. “Did you date someone I don’t know about?”