Page 21 of The Compound

They had almost finished the length. Evan was a little behind, but Seb and Mia were neck and neck.

“Hey, I hope I’m wrong,” Candice said. “It’s just a feeling I have.”


I found Samin the living room, sitting on the couch with Carlos. When I took a seat, Carlos glanced between us and got up, saying he wanted to go for a swim.

The living room had windows with no blinds, and the room was warm, but not enough to be uncomfortable. I sat so I was facing him, my legs propped against cushions of the couch. He was sitting on the couch, and though his legs were stretched before him it was big enough that our legs were close, but not touching.

“Just us,” I said.

“Just us,” he said.

“How’s Becca today?”

“Fine, mostly. She was rattled by the challenge yesterday, and by Tom. The fact that a couple of people voted for her earlier didn’t help, either.”

“I didn’t vote for her,” I said.

“I didn’t think you did. People think that she’s weak, but they don’t know her.”

“I mean,” I said, hating the way my voice sounded, high and slow. “You don’t really know her either.”

“You’re probably right. I keep thinking that I know people in here, and then I remember that I don’t know where they’re from or if they’re a twin, or an only child, or even what their job is. It’s strange, not beingable to talk properly.”

“We can talk properly,” I said. “You can’t tell me about your personal life, but I bet I could guess a few things.”

“You think?”

“I bet I can guess what your job is,” I said. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll tell by your reaction if I’m right.”

“Go ahead.”

“Vet.”

He said nothing, but he was smiling a little, as though I was doing something cute. I tucked my legs under me. Although I was enjoying myself, enjoying sitting next to him and speaking easily to him, I paused for a moment, listening, as though I might hear the voice warning us about breaking the rules. But there was no sound except for that of distant conversations. As long as he didn’t directly speak about his personal life we were fine. I couldn’t pretend that walking the line of rule-breaking didn’t add to the overall enjoyment of the conversation. “Contractor.” I was met with silence. “Dentist. Therapist.” He put his arm on the back of the couch, so his hand was an inch or two from my head. “Software engineer. Solicitor. This is boring. Am I close?”

“No, not at all.”

“Gardener.”

He shook his head, smiling. “But that sounds nice.”

“Do you really like Becca, then?”

I looked at him and he looked back at me, his gaze steady. “Becca’s nice. I like her, yeah.”

“Yeah, I like her, too. She’s great.”

“What?” he said, his mouth curling at the side.

“What?” I said, smiling, too, though I didn’t know why.

“Why were you making that face?”

“I wasn’t making any face!”

“Okay,” he said. “Where’s Ryan?”