Page 2 of Pity Pact

She adjusts the purple velvet tie around my neckline. “Because it reminds them of the Cinderella story. You’re a provincial girl living in obscurity and the professional guy is the prince who’s going to take you away from your mundane life.”

“But I love living in Elk Lake,” I insist.

She throws jazz hands out in front of her to silence me. “Let’s go, Chuck! We’re ready to roll!”

I assume Chuck is the guy with the shaggy brown hair wearing the vintage Whitesnake T-shirt as he’s the one behind the camera. “Just look straight ahead, Paige, and answer my questions,” Trina tells me.

Even though I’m worked up about this typecasting information, I do as I’m told. The lights are so bright and hot, I start sweating in overdrive. I’m going to be a desiccated mummy if this keeps up.

“Bring a chair!” Trina shouts. The crew quickly sits me down and adjusts the lighting for my new lower location. I’m grateful because this way, if I faint, I’m less likely to seriously hurt myself. Once I’m settled, Trina asks, “Would you ever consider moving out of Elk Lake, Paige?”

“I wouldneverleave Elk Lake.” I sound surprisingly aggressive.

“Then let’s hope whoever you match with wants to move here.” She looks at her clipboard and continues. “Tell the viewers a little bit about yourself.”

My mind wipes like a chalkboard after a good cleaning. “I, um. That is to say … I …”Who am I again?

“What do you do for a living?” she prompts.

“I’m the seventh-grade math teacher here in town. I teach at the same school I attended when I grew up here.” I glance over at the table and a couple of the people are yawning. Good times.

“What are your hobbies?”

“I love to watch romantic comedies, and I’m really into waterboarding.” In truth, I love to paddle board and I have no idea whyI said waterboard. To clear things up, I add, “I don’t like to torture people.”

Well, it looks like no one’s tired anymore. Every eye in the room is once again on me.

“I meant to say, I like to paddle board, not waterboard.” Blank stares. “Paddle boarding is standing on a board and using paddles to move yourself around the lake. Waterboarding is, you know, tying someone down and putting a cloth over their face before pouring water on it to simulate drowning.” I watched a very informative television special on it which is the only reason I know so much about that particular form of torture.

A deep voice suddenly shouts, “Trina, can you please join us at the table?”

She puts one finger up in the air before telling me, “Give me a sec.”

As she scurries away, I wonder how much time will pass before she comes back with the news that I’m no longer going to be on the show. I focus on breathing deeply, as I hear a multitude of words being bandied about. “Is she kinky?” a female voice wants to know.

Before Trina can answer, a male voice says, “Kinky is handcuffs and whips, not waterboarding. My concern is that she’s unhinged.”

“She’s just nervous,” Trina tries to put them at ease. “She’s a small-town girl and not used to this kind of thing. Give her a break.”

Another male voice joins the fray. “I’m all for giving her a chance, but the minute she talks about waterboarding on the air, she’s off the show.”

Trina walks back to me, rolling her eyes. “Just to be clear, you’renotinto intentionally harming people, right?”

My eyes bug out to the point I’m pretty sure they’re making a break for it. “No. I just said the wrong word. I’m totally normal.” Thinking about my behavior today, I add, “In relationships.”

“Good. Now, you like to watch rom-coms andpaddle board. Anything else?”

“I’m a pretty good baker,” I tell her. “One of my friends owns a bakery in town.” Thinking it might help her to feel better about me, I add, “Faith is married to Teddy Helms.”

“The actor?” Oh yeah, Trina’s excited.

“Yep. Teddy used to spend his summers here, and he recently came back to visit his grandfather. That’s when he met Faith.”

“That’s a great story! I wonder if we could talk Teddy into showing up for a scene or two.” She taps her chin with the tip of a pen like she’s urgently sending a Morse code that will win the war.

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable asking him,” I tell her honestly. While I’ve known Faith since kindergarten, I’m still a bit starstruck around her husband.

Trina waves her hand back and forth. “Forget that for now. I’m jumping ahead of myself. Tell us what kind of things you like to bake.”

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