For Real(66)

Miranda elbows me hard, and I realize Isis has been saying my name. “Claire, who would you like to spend the next leg of the race with?” she asks.

I’m so humiliated that it’s hard to fathom going forward with the race at all. Just knowing Will is in the same hotel, on the same plane, in the same city as me will make it impossible to concentrate. I can’t believe Miranda has managed to make it this far with Samir right next to her, squeezing drop after drop of lemon juice into her open wound. All she wants is to get away from him, and I finally understand exactly how she feels.

I remember what she said back at the hotel this morning: I just hate being on the same side as Samir. It sucks that I can’t even do anything bad to him without sabotaging myself. And a tiny spark of hope ignites in me. I know how to turn things around for both of us.

“I’d like to race with Samir,” I say.

Miranda grabs my arm and digs her nails in. “What are you doing?” she hisses. “You’re going to help him?”

“Samir, please stand next to Claire,” Isis says, and he does, looking totally perplexed.

“Are you trying to get back at me for separating you from Will or something? Oh my God, Claire, why are you being so immature about this?”

I want so badly to tell her what I have planned, but I can’t say anything in front of Samir and all the cameras. Later, during our interview, I’ll explain everything. But for now, I just say, “Trust me. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

And for once, I actually do.

*

I arrive for my daily wrap-up interview with Ken the producer, ready to share my new plan with Miranda. But Will is sitting in the other chair, and when he smiles warmly at me, my chest does this painful swelling, squeezing thing. He looks so happy to see me that I wonder for a minute if I misread all the signs and he really does care about me.

It’s a game, I remind myself. He’s acting. Pull yourself together. God, I can’t even be trusted to look at his face for three seconds without relapsing. I’m a disgrace to reality television, not to mention the entire female population.

“Hey,” he says, as if nothing has changed. “Fancy meeting you here.”

My cheeks are heating up, and I look down at my feet, so embarrassed I can’t even meet his eyes. “Hi,” I say. He reaches out to touch my shoulder, but I pull away and sit down on the edge of my chair, as far from him as possible.

Ken starts asking questions about our day, and I keep my answers short. It hurts just to be near Will, to realize I’ve lost something I never really had, and I want to get this interview over with as quickly as possible. Will keeps trying to engage me and get me to laugh, and when I make no effort to hold up my end of the conversation, he finally says, “Hey, Dominique, what’s the matter?”

It occurs to me that Will has never once called me by my real name while he was flirting with me, and my stomach twists. “My name is Claire,” I say quietly.

“Yeah, I know what your name is. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. What’s going on with you tonight? I thought—”

“I thought you actually liked me,” I say, and I’m horrified to hear my voice crack. “I can’t believe what an idiot I was.”

A crinkle appears between his eyebrows. “What are you talking about? Of course I like you! I had an awesome time with you today. You were a kick-ass partner.”

“Not so kick-ass that you had any trouble ditching me.”

He looks genuinely confused. “When did I ditch you? Miranda stole you during the Heartbreaker round. I didn’t want to switch partners.”

“I’m not talking about that! I’m talking about Janine! I thought we were so good together, and I thought … and then you were just … you just …” But all the sentences I want to say are too humiliating, so I leave them hanging unfinished in the air.

Will stares at me like I’m speaking another language. “Claire, we’re on a TV show. We’re not getting married. You’re acting like I cheated on you or something. We’ll race with other people this round, and maybe we’ll get to be together again later. I didn’t mean to hurt you by picking Janine. None of this is personal. You know that.”

I hate that both Will and Ken are looking at me with sympathy, like I’m a little girl who has just discovered the Tooth Fairy isn’t real. I’m so tired of looking pathetic and ridiculous and weak. Starting tomorrow, this is all going to change.

“I’m sorry if you thought—” Will starts.

I hold up my hand. “I get it. Just stop talking, please, okay?”

And he does. The fact that he doesn’t try harder to make things right with me says more than any words could.

When Ken sends Will away shortly after that, I expect him to call someone to bring out my sister. But instead he says, “You’re done for now, Claire. Have a good rest, and make sure you’re at the starting line on time tomorrow morning.”

“Wait a minute,” I say. “Don’t I have to interview with Miranda?”

“Miranda will do her interview alone today.”

“What? Why? I really need to talk to her.”

Ken starts flipping through some papers on his clipboard, like I’m the least important thing in the room. “I’m sure you’ll find an opportunity to see her tomorrow.”