Page 63 of The Compound

I said nothing. He picked up a stone. Rather than aim it into any of the vast, untouched space around us, he threw it at the house. It crashed through the window of the living room, glass shattering. I expectedsomeone to come out and make a fuss—Tom was surely in the house, Andrew too—but there was no sign of movement.

“Shit,” Sam said, and rubbed his face.

I walked forward a little, watching out for broken glass. “You shouldn’t have done that. The place is damaged enough as it is. That’s another thing that we’ll have to fix.”

I felt his eyes on me. I turned. “You know,” he said, “all of this, all of theserewards—they’re just…stuff. The house, the Personal Rewards—having them doesn’t make a difference.”

A faint wind licked at the back of my legs. Now that I knew that he would leave me and this would be the end, I wanted to cling to some bit of dignity. I felt the return of awareness that we were being watched, that people were forming opinions on our actions just as we carried them out. Even as I looked at Sam’s face, the small details that were so dear to me—the bridge of his nose, the faint red line that crossed his cheekbones from too much time in the sun—I was thinking of the girls who had appeared on the show before, who had been strong and inscrutable as their boys left them. The girls who made a fuss and cried and begged never won any sympathy; in fact, whatever impact they’d had before diminished the moment they fell to pieces over a boy. No one liked to see that—people preferred us fierce and fearless. I understood it: I didn’t like to be reminded either of just how quickly I could fall apart. Just the same, if we’d been alone and no one was watching, I think I might have fallen at his feet and told him that he needed to be patient with me, he needed to give me time, that I would be better, I only needed time.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I said coolly. “I suppose we’re not really that similar. I never thought we would be compatible, you know. That’s why I chose Ryan.”

He looked out at the desert sands, and then back to the house.

“I’ll fix the window,” he said. “I’ll fix it, and then I’ll go.”

It didn’t hurt, not really. I knew it would hurt later, but I had expected it even before we got together. Still, I turned away so he couldn’t see me, just in case.

“Fine,” I said. “I’m going for a swim.”

I changed into my bikini—it was lying on a chair, still damp from mylast swim—and floated on my back for a while, gazing into the sky until my eyes blurred, until the blue became a single, fixed point above me. I sat on the steps of the pool then, still half submerged, and watched Sam fix a tarp over the window.

I loved him; I loved him, and it was terrible, because I knew that he was right, and that things had gotten out of hand here. I couldn’t bear to see him go, but I couldn’t fathom leaving. I didn’t want him to see just how small and insignificant my life had been before. If my greatest accomplishment had been getting onto the show, then everything beyond that would be a disappointment.

There was a moment, as he carefully hammered a nail into a scrap of wood, when my blood ran cold with terror at the thought of living here without him. But I had so nearly won. It wouldn’t be the life I’d wanted, with Sam sharing my solitude, but it was still better than the dim, pale existence I had at home. Tom said I was useless, and probably the others thought so too, but I knew that I could do it. I could make something of myself here. I could win. People would think back on the show, this year, this iteration of the house, and say, “Wasn’t that the one with Lily?” That was worth something. Even Sam would have to thinkso.

Sam finished and went into the house. I got out of the pool and took my time, making a serpentine path to the front door through the blackened trees and mounds of debris. I stayed off to the side, out of sight. Andrew and Sam were walking out of the house. I watched Andrew grasp Sam close to him, his shoulders shaking.

“I’ll miss you, man. I’ll really miss you,” he said.

Sam said nothing, but he hugged him back. Unlike nearly everyone else in the compound, Sam had never warmed to Andrew.

“I should go, too,” Andrew said, stepping away and releasing him. “I know I should go, and be with Candice, but—I’ll go soon, very soon, and I’ll see you then, won’t I, Sam, yes? We’ll all see each other. We’ll meet up regularly, I’m sure. Sam, will you find Candice, when you’re out? Or call her—I forgot for a minute that you can pick up a mobile and call someone; isn’t that funny? If you could get her number, and just tell her that I think about her every minute,every minute,and that I’ll be out soon.”

Still Sam said nothing, and Andrew continued, his arms swinging by his sides in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture.

“Well—that’s you off, then! I’ll look after Lily, don’t you worry. Are you sure you’re going? Do you really need to leave? When I heard the window break, I thought: I must sort myself out and get back to taking care of the house. You know, I really do think we can get it back to the way it was before the fire.”

“I’m going, Andrew. Maybe I’ll see you after.”

“Of course, man, of course. Well—goodbye, then. I won’t walk you out; I’m going to check on the big screen, and see if maybe we could earn something to help us get organized. I’ll see you for a drink sometime, right?”

“Sure, Andrew.”

Andrew left, walking around the compound, inspecting scorched lumps of metal, perhaps wondering what reward each of them had been before the fire. I watched Sam go around the side of the house to look at the window he had boarded up. He stayed there for a while, and I thought that he was likely waiting for me to come back. I stepped forward to approach him, but then Becca appeared, walking across the dusty stretch of ground toward him as though she knew that he had been looking for her. I moved around the corner so that I could listen to them, out of sight. He told her he was going, and she listened and said a few affirmative things. I couldn’t see her, but she sounded cool and unbothered.

“I can’t persuade you to go?” he asked.

“I’ll go soon,” she said.

“Becca,” he sighed. “I don’t know why you want to stay. But it isn’t worth it.”

“I’ll miss you,” she said. “You were the only person here I liked.”

“Tell me something. Why do you want to win?”

“I don’t care about winning. I just need Tom to lose.”

I thought he might be running his hands across his face. “Oh God,” he said. “What am I thinking, leaving you and Lily here with Tom!”

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