Page 22 of Taking the Heat

‘Please do!’ said the manager. ‘That’s fantastic for ratings.’

‘What if I take a dump on the middle of my bed?’

Pause. ‘Okay, we’ll go.’

‘Cheers, boys!’

***

When I woke up from napping, my cheek was plastered to the pillow with drool. ‘Classy,’ I muttered to myself, wiping at my face and hoping the cameras didn’t catch it, so it wouldn’t be used for some hilarious ‘Missed Moments’ episode.

Another shower was in order. I must say, my bathroom is fast becoming my favourite place on the island. The massive floor-to-ceiling glass frames an incredible view over the rainforest foliage, and it creates this feeling of floating above the trees. The shower is like the eighth wonder of the world—double heads, perfect temperature, a little bench for sitting on. There’s even a spa bath, set in the corner, with jets and a selection of scented oils.

I scrubbed off, singing every copyrighted song I could think of, hoping that might reduce the chances of me being internationally televised in the shower. When I was done, I looked in the mirror, pulling at my tangled blonde mane. ‘Ugh.’

‘Makeup!’ came the cry from the front door.

‘Yay!’ I ran to let them in. ‘I’m so glad to see you guys.’

My hair lady, a luminous woman from the Caribbean with buxom hips, smiled at me. ‘You’ve changed ya tune, darlin’. Let me guess—it’s a boy got ya all in a tizz?’

‘Maybe …’ I said, not even sure. I couldn’t pinpoint why I suddenly felt like dancing Pharell-style. It might have been a boy. It might have been two, or the prospect of boys to come, or the fact that I’d won the first key, or that I’d just had an amazing shower.

And then, as always, I thought of my sister and the balloon of happiness deflated.How can I giggle and feel joy when Ella is broken and alone? And who’s to blame for that?

My friend Serena has accused me of being grouchy and unfun, of being childish and pushing everyone away. But ever since the accident, that’s my life. I don’t deserve to be happy.

Suddenly, my excitement at seeing Chris and dancing with Henry seemed stupid.You’re here for one reason. Don’t enjoy it too much.

I let the beauty team go to work with my eyes closed, hearing Ella’s voice say on repeat,‘Hey sis! Are you ready to go? Ready to go? Ready to go …?’

***

Standing at the beach steps an hour later, I felt some of my good feelings return. My full-length maxi dress blew around in the salty breeze—the floaty orange and pink print looked like flames and the movement increased the illusion that it flickered around my legs. My hair was softly curled and loose around my shoulders, and the golden gladiator sandals on my feet gave me just a hint of toughness.

Most of the contestants had already arrived, milling around the giant bonfire built on the sand. Meghan was sitting forlornly on a log by the fireside, staring across the flames at Callum, while the Italian guy flirted with her, oblivious. Beau tipped his hat at me, while the Swiss twins knocked their beers against his. Henry was bailed up by the gorgeous African girl, Jendayi, her arms animated and her body language suggestive. I smiled at his discomfort and looked around for Chris.

He sat on the other side of the fire, his legs splayed casually. Babette, one of the French girls, knelt in front of him between his legs. She twirled her hair around her fingers, her mouth open invitingly, practically the picture of willing, sophisticated sex. As I watched, Chris leaned in to her, his forehead only an inch from hers. He said something and she laughed coquettishly. She thrust her breasts forwards, and they came dangerously close to touching Chris’ open hands.

Inexplicable heated rage swept through me. Every cell in my body screamed, ‘mine!’ and I almost pulled a Clara, only narrowly resisting the urge to drag the French wench away from Chris by her obvious hair extensions.

Instead, I spun and padded off quietly. I needed a moment to regain my composure before speaking with anyone.Why is that I don’t care if Henry speaks with other girls, but this is how I react to seeing Chris with anyone?If I let myself fall any further into Chris’ magnetism, I’d lose my mind when he won his key.

Further along the beach, I found a swinging chair hanging from a palm tree. I collapsed into the canvas, finding the rocking motion soothing to my rattled nerves.

A crackle from behind me caused my head to turn and examine the bushes behind me. A single cameraman crouched behind a tree.

‘I’m not going to do anything interesting,’ I warned him.

‘You never know,’ he whispered back. ‘Besides, these are great mood-building shots. You, silhouetted against the sea, alone with your thoughts …’

‘I’m not exactly alone, you crazy stalker.’

‘I’m not really here.’

‘Yes, you are!’

‘Just ignore me.’

---