AFTERNOON CONFESSIONAL
Producer: So, Connor, what’s the history with you and Savannah?
Connor: We dated for a couple of years, but she’s obsessed with her sister.
Producer: And you didn’t like that?
Connor: Who would? Her sister is annoying, and she’s twenty years old. Like, move on with your life.
Producer: Savannah broke up with you then?
Connor, after a pause: It was mutual.
* * *
SAVANNAH
I don’t know what to make of Rhett at this point. The way he stood up for me to Connor was shocking. It was fun to watch Connor squirm, quite literally, under Rhett’s hand. But why did Rhett do that? Why didn’t he join in the fun of criticizing me?
Normally, I’d talk to Maggie about it and get her well-earned wisdom, but I can’t because Rhett is attached to me. This is going to be tough.
I asked a producer what we do when we have to change clothes. She said they will release us, and someone will come stand outside the bathroom door while we change. We have five minutes. As for showering, they will do the same. Release us and give us ten minutes each to shower.
“Um, I have a little problem,” I say as we walk toward the courtyard.
“What?” Rhett says, exasperated.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
He pauses for a moment. “What do you mean by ‘use the bathroom’?”
I stare at him. “Do I have to go into details?”
“Ew.”
“No! I just have to pee, but what are we supposed to do?”
He nods toward the bathroom where he hid on that first night. “You go in, and I’ll stand outside.”
I walk into the bathroom, but the toilet is too far. The chain won’t stretch nearly enough.
“Not going to work,” I call out. Our camera guy stands in the hallway with Rhett, obviously waiting for us.
“We can go upstairs,” Rhett says. The bathroom up there is even bigger than this one. There’s no way he’s going to be able to stand outside there either. I yank the chain, pulling him into the room. “What are you doing, crazy woman?”
I shut the door. “I need to go, so you’re going with me.”
“Again? Is this some kind of fetish you have?”
“Shut up. My bladder is about to explode!”
“So glad I’m going to be here for that,” he says sarcastically.
I flip the switch on my mic and point for him to do the same. I don’t need to whole world to hear me pee. Everything gets judged on social media, so I’m certain trolls would discuss the rhythm or flow of my urinary tract.
“Turn around,” I say, pointing to the corner.
“Better hurry. They’re not going to like that you turned off…”
Just then, someone bangs on the door. “Savannah and Rhett, you need to have your mics on!” one of the producers yells through the thick wood.
“I deserve urinary privacy!” I yell back.
“No more than five minutes!”
“Geez, wonder what happens when you need to… well, you know,” Rhett says. “Five minutes? What if you want to do a little light reading?”
I stifle a laugh and finish my business before flushing the toilet and dragging him to the sink with me. Well, as much as a petite woman can drag a giant with her. Rhett is built like a superhero. He’s definitely been lifting weights since our time in school together.
“Okay, I guess we can go,” I say, turning toward the door. Rhett doesn’t move. “What’s wrong? Do you need to go?”
“No,” he says. “And when I do, you won’t be attached to me.”
“Why? Embarrassed?” I tease, poking him in the chest.
“Savannah, have you ever seen how a man goes to the bathroom? We sort of need both hands.”
“Ew. Yuck. Say no more.”
“We’ll work this out with the producers so they can let us loose for bathroom time. But before we leave, I need to say something while we’re not miked.” He pulls the chain so we’re in the corner, as far away from the door as possible.
For some reason, my heart starts to pound. What is that about? I have no feelings for this man. Well, no good ones. He’s arrogant and cocky and rude. He’s also talented and handsome and hot.
Maybe I need hormone cream.
“What’s going on, Rhett?”
His voice is barely above a whisper. “Have they been asking you questions about us?”
“Who? Production?”
“Yes. In your confessionals?”
“All the time. Why?”
“One of them let it slip to me that the audience is asking these questions.”
“So?”
“The audience votes, Sunny.”
“And?”
He smiles slightly. “You really are naive, aren’t you?”
“I guess I am because I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
“The object of this game is to get to the end, right?”
“Of course.”
“And how do we get to the end?”
“By winning the challenges. I want to take a nap. Can we wrap this up?”
“A nap? What are you? Three years old?”
“No, I’m thirty years old and chained to a big goober who won’t let me take a nap.”
“Listen, I think there’s a way to greatly improve our odds of getting to the end.”
“How?”
“Come on out of there, guys!” the producer yells again. “I heard you flush two minutes ago!”
“Coming!” I yell back.
“She’s going for a second seating!” Rhett yells back. “Extra-long intestines, it seems!”
I slap him. “Stop it!”
“Anyway, as I was saying, I think I have a plan to get us to the end so we can battle it out.”
“Oooh, so conniving. I love it. What’s the idea?”
“We pretend to be in love.”
My heart starts pounding against my chest bone again. I feel like it will pop out and smack Rhett right in his chiseled chest. “Excuse me, what?”
He holds up his free hand. “Look, I know it sounds crazy…”
“Crazy? Um, yeah. It does sound crazy that I would pretend to be in love with my rival. The man who picks on me and annoys me more than most other humans. Well, maybe except Big Thelma…” I say, my voice trailing off as I pit the two of them against each other in my mind.
“Who in the heck is Big Thelma?”
“Never mind. I’ll tell you later while you’re chained to me, and we have nothing else to talk about. Explain yourself, Rhett. This is a crazy, insane, idiotic idea. Are you well?” I reach up and put my hand on his forehead.
“Haha. Very funny. Do you want to win? And open your bakery? And help your sister?”
“Of course I do,” I say softly.
“Then think about it. If we pretend to be in love, or at least heading that way, viewers will eat that up. They’ll vote us through to keep watching.”
“Their votes only count for thirty percent, though.”
“That’s a lot, Sunny. At least it gives us an edge.”
I think for a moment. “No. I can’t. There’s no way anyone would believe us. We can’t stand each other.”
“Agreed. But couldn’t we fake it enough to get to week six?”
“So you want me to act like I love you for five more weeks?”
“A little over four now. It’s not that long. How long did you pretend to love Connor?”
I giggle. “No comment.”
“And you didn’t even get paid for that.”
“Rhett, this isn’t going to work. What if it backfires? What if people hate us as a couple and send us home?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think they will. I’ve put a lot of thought into this. It’s our best chance.”
“I need time to think about it.”
“I’ll tell you what. You think, and you give me some kind of signal one way or the other.”
“What kind of signal?”
“I don’t know. Just something I can’t miss.”
“Well, that’s totally helpful,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Okay, fine. If you want to move forward, say the word ‘hippopotamus.’”
“Are you serious right now?”
“I’m picking this lock in ten seconds,” we hear a producer say from the other side of the door. We both turn our mics back on and walk out.
“Don’t forget the code word,” Rhett whispers before turning our mics back on.
What in the world am I going to do?
* * *
RHETT
I just asked Savannah to pretend to love me.
I’ve obviously lost my mind.
It’s an insane plan. It’s not something I would normally do. I don’t know what came over me.
I can’t put the genie back in the bottle now. It’s out there, and she thinks I’ve lost my marbles.
I know it will work. If we can seem believable, the audience of these shows will devour a love story.
But Savannah hates me. She’s right. There’s no way people will believe we care about each other. That we love each other.
“Are you actually going to take a nap?” I ask as she drags me along behind her. For a tiny woman, she sure is strong.
“Yep,” she says as we enter her room. Lainey has already moved to Connor’s room until our chains are removed, so her bed is empty. “Let’s push these closer together.”
I can imagine what viewers are thinking right now. This is TV gold.
I do as she says and move Lainey’s bed closer to hers. She kicks off her white tennis shoes and lays down, pulling the fuzzy blanket she brought up to her waist. I just stand there looking down at her.
“How long do your naps typically last?”
“Just an hour or so.”
“An hour? Seriously?”
“What’s wrong with that? There’s nothing else to do here anyway.”
“Oh, Sunny, life is passing you by. You could be exercising or playing a game of pool or practicing a skill…”
“No thanks,” she sings back at me. “Are you just gonna stand there while I sleep like some kind of creeper?”
I sigh, knowing I’m not going to win this fight. I sit on the bed and swing my sock feet around before lying down and staring at the ceiling, our arms dangling between the twin beds. This is like some weird summer camp for convicts.
I look over at her, and her eyes are closed, her long red hair trailing behind her head on the pillow. “So, this is it? You just lie here and fall asleep? Just like that?”
She turns and looks at me, obviously amused. “That’s how naps work, Rhett. And here’s the crazy thing—I do it all over again when it gets dark!” She gasps and puts her hand over her mouth to mock me.
“I don’t think I’ve taken a nap since I was a toddler,” I say, looking back at the ceiling and wondering why no one has painted over the stains on the ceiling where rain leaked through at some point. I notice these sorts of things.
“I love to nap. My favorite is on a rainy day when it’s gloomy and gray outside. I love to hear the raindrops hitting the roof. I live on the top floor of my apartment building, and I wish it were a metal roof. I dream of having a metal roof one day.”
“So it can sound like you’re being shot in a war zone every time it rains?”
She pokes out her ample lips. “Are you always this much fun?”
“Always,” I say, winking. Why did I just wink? I never wink.
“I’m closing my eyes now, Rhett,” she says. Within moments, I can tell she’s actually asleep. People really do this? They just decide to sleep? In the middle of the day? How magical to be able to lie down, close your eyes, and drift off like the world isn’t this crazy place you need to think about all the time.
I roll onto my right shoulder and watch her like a lunatic. I can’t help it. She looks so peaceful. I would think she was dead if her cheeks weren’t so rosy. Is that makeup? I don’t think it’s makeup. She doesn’t seem to wear anything but a light shade of lip gloss. Savannah is what one would call a girl next door. She’s pretty without knowing it.
What is going on with me? Why am I romanticizing this woman who isn’t anything like the women I date? Who honestly can’t stand me? Who annoyed me by her mere existence during school?
She sighs in her sleep, and I want to scoop her up like a lost kitten.
Oh no. This isn’t good. Is that why I suggested we pretend to be in love? Do I have some completely wrong feelings stirring around inside my cold heart for this woman?
Certainly not. Impossible.
* * *
SAVANNAH
It’s startling to open your eyes from a nap and see someone staring at you, but here I am. Rhett is lying on his side, his piercing blue eyes staring back at mine.
“Hello,” he says dryly. “I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up. I considered checking your pulse.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, really wanting to continue my nap a bit longer. “How long was I asleep?”
He looks at his watch. “Five weeks. Everyone has gone home, and we both lost.”
“Very funny.”
“We need to go downstairs. We have kitchen duty, remember?”
I totally forgot it was our turn to do the dishes after lunch. There was probably a sink full of dirty dishes waiting for us. “Right.”
We make our way to our feet and maneuver down the curved staircase. This whole show has been one uncomfortable thing after another. Cameras are watching me 24/7. Ex-boyfriend right down the hall. Rival literally attached to me by a chain.
I must be insane to continue this competition.
“Do you want to wash or dry?” Rhett asks.
“Isn’t there a dishwasher?”
“I’m sure there is, but if we do that, we’ll have five loads to clean all the dishes. I think we should put in a load and wash the rest by hand.”
I sigh. “I’ll dry.”
He chuckles. “How did I know you’d pick that?”
“Then why give me a choice? Of course, I’m going to pick the one that doesn’t involve me sticking my hands in dirty water where other people’s food is floating.”
“They have these things called gloves, you know?”
We walk into the kitchen, and everyone is gone. They’re all out in the courtyard playing pool, chatting, or sitting in the hot tub. I wish I was with them.
Rhett plugs the sink and turns on the water to allow it to fill up. He squirts some blue dish soap into the water and then hands me a dish towel.
“I need a snack,” I say, looking up and down the countertops. Maybe I’m procrastinating a bit but doing dishes has always been something I abhor. It’s Sadie’s job in our apartment.
“You’ll do anything to avoid these dishes, won’t you?”
I bump my shoulder into his side. “I’m hungry. Open that cabinet and see if there are any chips.”
He rolls his eyes. “For such a tiny woman, you sure like junk food. You’ve risked your life for it once already.”
“What can I say? It’s my only vice.”
Begrudgingly, Rhett walks away from the sink and opens the corner cabinet, reaching high up and feeling around for my prized snack selection.
“There’s nothing here but a box of raisins and a package of stale cookies,” he says, pulling each of them out of the cabinet and examining them. I rise onto my tiptoes and look around his hulking body for proof.
“So, no chips?”
“You need to see a nutritionist.”
Just as I’m thinking of a witty retort, I feel something under my bare foot. Water?
As if in slow motion, we both turn around and see a mountain of bubbles in the sink that almost covers the window, looking out over the courtyard. There’s water pouring over the side of the sink and onto the floor.
“Oh no!” I screech as Rhett immediately rushes toward the faucet to turn it off. But we’re attached by a chain, and he yanks me along with him. My bare feet slip from under me, and I fall toward the floor. Rhett manages to hit the faucet handle with his hand, turning it off, before he topples to the floor with me, landing right on top of me.
Having the wind knocked out of you by a giant man isn’t something I’d recommend.
“Ouch!” I yell. He looks down at me, shock written all over his face, and then pushes up onto his forearms.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, breathless. That’s when I realize Rhett is on top of me. All of him. I can feel his chest heaving, his heart pounding. I can feel his warmth and taut muscles. All of it is good. My face flushes, giving my thoughts away.
“I guess we should get up,” he says. Well, it was more of a whisper. Like one of those hot, sexy whispers in a movie.
“I guess we should.”
Neither of us moves. How have I never noticed those little flecks of green around his blue eyes? Or how naturally pink his lips are? Or how he has this little scar just over his right eyebrow that I want to know the story of?
Finally, Rhett adjusts his body and makes it up onto his hip. All of this is harder due to the stupid chain that connects us. I feel like I need to escape. Get away from whatever these feelings are. Maybe I just need to get on one of those dating apps and have more male interaction, so when a good-looking guy falls on top of me, I don’t go to places I shouldn’t in my mind.
I don’t like Rhett. In fact, he annoys me in ways I can’t imagine anyone else would. He gets under my skin like pieces of fiberglass.
I don’t like Rhett.
“I’m going to try to get up. You stay here until I get my footing,” he says.
I can’t believe no one came inside when they heard us yelling. They’re all too focused on hanging out, so we’re on our own.
Rhett slowly pushes off with one hand and knee until he’s almost standing, but then the soapy water on the floor takes him down again. This time, he manages to land beside me, both of us on our backs staring at each other. Within seconds, I’m in hysterics laughing.
He eyes me closely for a few moments before I see it. A smile. An actual smile. The smile turns into a chuckle. Then, a full-blown laugh. Before we know it, we’re both laughing so hard that we’re sobbing. Just me and Rhett, lying on the floor laughing our heads off.
I finally catch my breath enough to speak. “I’m soaked from head to toe!”
“You look like a wet dog!” he says, cackling. I’ve never seen this side of him before. He has little laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He has an actual dimple. If I had a dimple, I’d smile all the time just to show it off.
“Oh yeah? Well, you look like a…”
“What on earth is going on here?”
We turn our heads and see Maggie standing by the stove, staring at us with her mouth hanging open. I feel like I just got caught by the principal.
“We had a little… incident,” Rhett says. His nonchalant explanation sends us both into hysterics again. By the time we finally calm down, Maggie has gone to get help. Nate and Hank help both of us up to our feet and away from the water while Zara and Tanya start wiping the floor.
“I’m so sorry, y’all. Thanks for helping us,” I say, feeling embarrassed by what they just witnessed. They have to wonder how I got on this show. So far, my reputation as a professional pastry chef hasn’t been great. And now I look like I can’t even wash dishes without creating an international incident.
“We’re going to go get changed, and then we’ll do the dishes,” Rhett says to the group that has now formed in the kitchen.
Maggie waves her hand. “We’ll take care of the dishes. Just go get dried up.” She rolls her eyes like a scolding mother as we slink away up the stairs, still laughing.