Page 85 of My Irresistible Enemy

“Good.” He joined me at the railing. “I wanted to make it clear how happy we were for you. How much we’re rooting for you.”

“I’m not sure youshouldbe rooting for me,” I said, “considering everyone else who’s left is vastly more qualified to win this than I am. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“The sentiment is the point,” Gabe said. “That’s what love is, right? Even if it’s irrational, you want the best for someone. I just wanted viewers to know how loved you are.”

“Stop it, I’m blushing.” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot, you’re supposed to save all your blushes for the cameras. You’ve only got a limited supply, after all.”

I grinned. “Exactly. I’m glad you understand.”

“I really am proud of you, you know,” he said after a moment.

I wasn’t sure what to say in response. It was sweet, but it wasn’t like I’d done anything to warrant it, except worm my way onto a show I didn’t belong on and miraculously avoid what would have been very justified eliminations week after week. Maybe thatwasa talent, but it didn’t seem like one that should be celebrated.

“Whatdidever happen to that book?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

“Hmm?”

“That book of fairytales. The one I was obsessed with as a kid. I remember making you read to me from it every day for a while there, but then—poof! My memory of it just vanishes. Like it never existed.”

Gabe frowned and looked down at the plants in the courtyard below. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“Gabe?”

“Yeah?” He was holding himself way too stiffly.

“Doyou know what happened to that book?”

“What? No.” He darted a glance at me. “Why would you—no, of course not.”

“Right.” I gave him a long look, and he glanced at me again before looking away just as quickly. “Right, of course not. You just happened to get really fucking tense when I asked you a perfectly innocent question. That’s normal. Happens all the time.”

“It does. And I’m not tense, you’re just being weird.”

“You are too, and I’m weird all the time, but I’m pretty decent at reading body language.” I thought back to the interview. “Are you sure we lost it?”

“What? When did I say that? I don’t know what happened to it.”

“Okay, except you said that, like, twenty minutes ago. Were you just spit-balling for the camera, or…”

Gabe sighed and looked over at me. “Does it matter?”

“It didn’t before. But now that you’re being so strange about it, yes, it does.”

“What’s the big deal about the book? You didn’t even remember it existed until half an hour ago.”

“Well, now that I do, I want to know what happened to it. What’s the big deal with you telling me?”

“Because you don’t want to know!” Gabe said, pushing away from the railing. “Because Mom and Dad made you throw it out. They didn’t even do it themselves. They made you do it, right into the kitchen trashcan, and then Mom emptied some coffee grounds and a banana peel onto it, and you cried, and they said that would teach you not to be a—” He broke off.

“Not to be a what?” I asked, my voice quiet.

He looked up at the sky. “Not to be a sissy, if I remember correctly. And I do, because you didn’t know what that word meant and you kept crying and asking what you’d done, and they just sent you to your room.”

“I—I don’t remember that at all.” I looked at him, bewildered.

“Well, good. I’m glad. It wasn’t a particularly enjoyable experience for me either, and I wasn’t even the target of it, so I doubt it would have been more fun for you.”

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