Page 55 of The Baking Games

"How long ago did she pass away?"

"Oh, it's been a while now. She died when Sadie was twelve, so about eight years ago. But even before that, she wasn't a great mom. She had her own demons.”

“That's hard to imagine."

"Why?"

"Well, I mean, you seem so put together. Nice and proper and modest."

"I do?" Savannah says, laughing. "I never realized that about myself, but yeah, my mom was pretty screwed up. Addiction will do that to a person. She had mental health issues that made it more complicated. She never should have had children."

"I'm sorry you had to grow up that way."

"Well, it made me who I am, and I guess I like myself pretty well. I just wish I was richer."

I laugh. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you're doing really well in the competition. Getting to work with you, I can see how hard you work at this, and I think you'll start winning some competitions."

"Yeah? I don't know. I'm not sure that I will. I'm not really much for competition. I kind of like everybody to just work together and get along."

"Well, it's not exactly interesting television," I say.

We lay there for a few more minutes, just staring up. Finally, Savannah sighs.

"This is pretty boring. Want to go for a run?"

She laughs. "How in the world are we going to run while we're wearing these chains?"

"We'll figure it out."

We quietly make our way down into the courtyard. The lights are dimmed at night, so it doesn't keep everyone in the neighborhood awake to see the lights that normally illuminate it. That's fine with me. I like running in the dark.

Of course, I've never taken a run with another person chained to me. Surprisingly, Savannah couldn't sleep either. There's just something about being chained to another person and worrying about the upcoming main challenge later this week that keeps you from getting a restful night of slumber.

"So how are we going to do this?” Savannah asks, breaking me out of my chain of thought as we enter the courtyard grassy area. It's fake grass, bright and green. Perhaps if you saw it in somebody's yard, you would think it was real, but out here, you can tell. It's not a big area. I just usually run back and forth until I tire myself out.

"I'm not sure. Obviously, we’re not going to be able to swing both of our arms very well,” I say, laughing.

“I’m not much of a runner, so I hope we don't have to go fast," Savannah says. She's wearing a short-sleeved pajama shirt and shorts. It's kind of cute. I'm trying not to notice. I'm also wearing a T-shirt and shorts, but I've also put on my running jacket after catching a producer in the hallway and asking to be unchained for a moment so I could slide it on. It's not cold outside, but sometimes, these early summer nights can have a little bit of a cold snap, which seems to be what's happening tonight. Plus, I like to sweat a little extra to burn calories.

I don’t really need to lose weight, but on a frame as big as mine, putting on weight would be very easy.

"We'll just take it slow," I say. I start stretching my quads and my calves. Savannah notices what I'm doing and does the same. She bends over and touches her toes like we're in an aerobics class, and I try not to steal a look. But still, I'm a guy. I can't help it.

"Were you just looking at my butt?" she says, catching me in the act.

"Absolutely not. I was making sure that you were doing proper stretching form," I lie. I can't really see her rear end very well anyway, given that we're chained together, but I got a good enough look that I know it's not a bad visual.

"Yeah, sure you were," she says, eyeing me carefully and stifling a smile. "It's a little bit cooler out here than I thought it would be."

"I suppose it is. I wish the days were as cool."

“Me too. It's pretty hot. I don't come out here much during the day because of being a redhead and fair-skinned. We're not exactly known for our tanning capabilities."

"Well, you can't have everything," I say, wishing I could put the words back into my mouth. Telling her that she has everything else except for the ability to tan is why the viewers at home think that we have some sort of romance going on, or perhaps they think that I'm just some love-struck fool and Savannah has no interest in me. Maybe that's true, but I don't think too hard about it.

"I guess we should get started," I say. We start with a light jog, trying to get the right rhythm between us, a chain hanging between us.

We can swing our arms just a bit, but not as much as one would during a normal jog. We go back and forth a few times before Savannah says she needs to take a break.

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