Page 25 of The Compound

She came over, and I said, “Dance with me.” She laughed, her teeth flashing white, and put her arms around me. I moved without any insecurity, and without thought. I was a good dancer, and I knew it. I twirled her around, and we both were laughing, dancing without inhibition. After a minute or so, we stopped laughing and became serious, our dancing growing wilder, our limbs thrashing through the air. She gripped my hands and I gripped hers, and we spun each other around, and I knew that if one of us let go suddenly the other would go careening into the pool; but I knew, with a surety that was like balm on a burn, that neither of us would do that.

When we slowed, we leaned against each other, panting. I felt giddy and dizzy, my mind blissfully empty: I had forgotten where we were, what was going on around us and beyond us; I had forgotten, even, that it was all for a task. I sensed movement behind me, and heard a voice call, “Don’t look!”

Of course, I turned, as did Jacintha, and saw Susie a few feet away, squatting above the ground, her skirt lifted. “Don’t look at me,” she wailed.

It was cold, as it always was at night in the desert, and there was steam rising from below her. Susie was shitting on the concrete. I knew it must have been for a Personal Task, but it didn’t make it any easier to see.

Before we went to bed, we checked the screen one last time. It said:

Task: Banish one person from the compound

Reward: Pasta

We all agreed, every single one of us, that we wouldn’t complete the task. We were wrapped in a warm, companionable glow and when we went to the bedroom none of us went to sleep, but instead stayed awake for hours, sitting on each other’s beds, laughing loudly at every joke, exchanging flirtatious looks and friendly smiles. Some of the girls had a pillow fight, and some of the boys were roughhousing. Jacintha and I watched them fondly, while Candice plaited my hair the way I liked it. I still wasn’t sure if Candice singled me out among the other girls because I was competition, or because she actually liked me. That night, I felt disposed to be generous and kind to everyone, and when Candice told Jacintha and me that she was glad to have found friends like us I believed her.

I also felt an underlying smugness that we had resisted being goaded by the producers into banishing someone. Time and time again I had seen contestants on the show throw their friends and lovers aside for the sake of a reward, for something that would make their life easier. Right then, lying against Jacintha, with Candice working through my hair with gentle hands, and watching the boys, beautiful and strong, posturing for the equally beautiful girls, I felt confident that we would never get so brutal and senseless as to cast each other aside for material gain. Besides, the big screen would reset in the morning. There would be more opportunities for food tomorrow.

—

When I wokeup the next day, Sarah and Vanessa greeted me in the kitchen with somber faces and handed me a banana and a cup of coffee. “Thanks,” I said. “I haven’t seen you guys up so early before.”

“We needed to make sure that no one stole any of the food,” said Sarah. “We’ve been here for hours.”

I looked at the crate of bananas. There were maybe two dozen left. The bread was gone. The vegetables, too.

“You didn’t clean the kitchen last night,” Sarah said. “We take our job seriously. You need to do the same.”

“Sorry,” I said, immediately chastened. “I meant to. I’ll do it now.”

“Get Becca, too,” Sarah said. “Don’t let her get away with not working, Lily. There’s no room for laziness here.”

Sarah had, apparently, found a personality in the last few days. I preferred her as the girl who no one remembered very well.

“Okay,” I said. “Sorry. I’ll get her now.”

“Have your coffee first,” Vanessa said.

Becca was still asleep, as was Sam. They weren’t touching, but they were facing each other in bed, their heads on the same pillow. This small intimacy between them sickened me. I didn’t want to wake them, but I knew I couldn’t let anyone else see that we hadn’t done our job. Everyone had worked so well yesterday. I was filled with shame at neglecting our duties.

“Becca,” I whispered, touching her shoulder. Her eyes opened.

“Lily?”

“We need to clean the kitchen,” I said. “We forgot to do it last night.”

She stretched like a kitten, and I was tempted to let her sleep and do it myself, but she said, “Okay,” and swung her legs off the bed.

“Becca?” Sam asked, his eyes still closed.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered. She grabbed a hoodie from the foot of her bed and put it on. She was one of the few girls in the compound who was openly self-conscious about her body. Of course, we all loathed how we looked in some way, but most of us were better at hidingit.

We cleaned in silence, as we always did. I found it soothing; Becca, it seemed, did not enjoy the inane chatter that we had all become partial to. I thought there was something fortifying about her quietness. Once we finished, Vanessa and Sarah appeared again and produced a coffee and a banana for Becca. We talked a bit, sitting on the counters, or leaning against the fridge. It was the most open and chatty I had seen Vanessa and Sarah. Having a purpose clearly suited them.

Andrew emerged, his hair mussed from sleep. “I wish we had a clock,” he said. “It would make things so much easier. I can never wake up early without an alarm.”

“I can wake you when I get up if you want,” I said.

“Would you mind, Lily? It would be much more civilized if I could start the day nice and early.”

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