“I thought so, but now I’m a few days in and…” he shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s in me to backstab and be a jerk just to get ahead a few spots.”
He sounded like me…except I was still vowing to get ahead those spots. “Yeah, but if it gets you to first place?”
“What’s better, my self-respect or a million dollars?”
“The only person that would say that is someone that already has money.”
He laughed. “Good point.”
That made me curious. “What do you do for a living?”
Jendan ran a hand through his hair. “I probably shouldn’t say.”
“I’ll say if you say.” When he still hesitated, I offered my information anyhow. “I’m a waitress.”
“Isn’t that what everyone says when they’re lying about what they do? Waitress or construction worker?”
His grin was teasing, but I felt a burst of shame. “Well, I was going to college, but I dropped out. Not that that makes things any better.”
The grin faded. “Oh, you were serious?”
My shame deepened. “Sorry if I don’t have some super fancy job. I’ll just go.”
“No, hey, wait—” he grabbed my arm. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be an ass. I just thought you were joking.”
“Waitressing is very respectable,” I said in a hurt tone, not looking at him. “And I really should be getting back to camp.”
“Don’t go,” he said softly. “Please.”
It was that ‘please’ that made me stop. I looked over at him. “I really am a waitress, you know. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“I know. I came off as an ass. I’m sorry.” Those gray eyes pulled at me. “I’m a stunt man.”
I blinked. “Like, the guy they set on fire in the movies?”
His mouth twitched. “I mostly jump out of speeding cars and the occasional building, but yes.”
“Oh wow,” I breathed, imagining that. Then I gave him a curious look. “What the hell are you doing on a reality TV show?”
“Well, for one, I’m not loaded. I’m comfortable, but not loaded. And I tore my MCL last year, which limits the work I can do.” He shrugged. “It’s not a long-term career, you know? So I’d kind of like to open my own martial arts school. Have something else to do when I’m too hurt to do much else.”
“Back-up plans are important. I should have had one for when I dropped out of college.”
“How come you dropped out?”
“Um. Because of how the game turned out last year.”
“How did the game turn out?”
He looked at me, genuinely curious, and I suddenly realized he hadn’t seen the show. Well, damn. I pursed my lips, trying to think of how to explain. Then I remembered the whole ‘lousy lay’ thing and supposed it didn’t matter. “So last year, I had a crush on Kip and he strung me along to get my vote. The TV show edited it to make it seem like I was a bit of a ho.” I crossed my arms over my breasts, feeling a little vulnerable.
Wasn’t hard to do, given the fact that I was standing in front of a hot naked guy, totally naked myself.
For a moment, Jendan looked…angry. “They did what?”
“They, um, edited it badly.” I mean, sure, I’d chased Kip, but we’d done nothing but kiss on the island. I didn’t think that was worth the slut shaming I’d gotten. “After that, I got harassed by some people online and at school and I just thought it would be easier to disappear for a while.”
“So why are you on the show again?” His frown had become fierce, his body language angry.
Well, now I felt stupid. “I guess I don’t learn from my mistakes?”
“Annabelle,” he said, reaching for me. Then he pulled back, as if self-conscious of my nudity. “I’m not judging you. I just don’t like that they’re using you like this and then deliberately setting you up for round two. That’s not fair to you. You’re more than just a storyline, and they can’t wreck your life just because it makes good TV.”
I knew what he was saying was the truth. But I was already here, and trapped with Kip, so it was just pouring salt into a wound at this point. “Preaching it to the choir. But I plan on turning things around this time. I want to show people a different side of Annabelle Tucker. I’m playing different this time. More cutthroat. Less naive.” Hopefully. “And zero island romances.”
Silence fell between us, and I thought of the charged emotions that had been running electrically through my body the moment I came into his presence. So much for that. Now Jendan was going to lose interest, like every other guy that wanted nothing but a quick hook-up.
But he only shrugged. “Sounds like a good plan to me, as long as it allows friendship.”
“It does,” I said lightly, feeling relieved. That was unexpected. “Still need me to help you make fire?”
“I actually have that covered,” he said. “It’s about the only thing on this island that’s covered.” And he gestured at his groin.
I laughed, because it was either that or cry, right? Big beautiful hunk of man standing right in front of me, and I couldn’t even look down at his magnificent equipment without being totally obvious about it.
Because friends wouldn’t do that to friends, right? Not even if those friends were totally mouthwatering.
“Anything you could help me learn would be great, by the way.” Jendan’s words broke my concentration. “I’m really not great at this survival stuff.”
Island life discussions, I could handle. “Did you research before you came out here?”
He winced. “No. Was I supposed to?”
“Nah. No one does,” I lied. I’d researched my tail off for the prior season so I could come out and be useful to my group. Not everyone did. “But I know a little about the island from studying on the plane. Do you know how to find taro root? Or tapioca? We’ve been eating those to supplement our coconuts.”
He looked astonished. “Those are on the island?”
“They are. I can show you where to find them and what they look like, if you want. Do you know how to cook them?”
“Can you show me that, too?”
I really shouldn’t if I was being cutthroat and all, but I couldn’t resist those gray eyes with the crinkles. “Yeah, I can.”
“I could totally kiss you right now, Annabelle,” he told me. “I’ve had nothing but coconut for the last five days. I had wet dreams about you and those donuts you ate yesterday.”
Boy, he wasn’t the only one. I’d had dreams of a rather uncomfortable nature myself, involving eating pastries off of his rock-hard abs. I flushed bright red, thinking of that. “Well, hang in there. There’s bound to be a fishing tackle reward coming up. Come on. I’ll show you what the plants look like.”
“Lead the way.”
Jendan and I walked through the jungle, making idle chatter to pass the time as I scoured the leafy floor looking for the plants. We went over the basics, like strangers on a blind date do. He grew up in California; I was an Alabama girl. He got a degree in Kinesiology - I dropped out of college and when I did go to school, my major was Anthropology. He liked hockey, I liked baseball.
Even though we didn’t have the basics in common, there were parallels between us. We were both middle children. We were both the peacemakers in our family. We were both methodical and tried to think things through before acting. And we both shared an optimistic view on life.
I felt like I knew Jendan. Even though we’d met on the island and had only spent an afternoon or two together, he was one of those people that I felt like I knew, right to my bones. This was a man I could trust. A man who was good and kind and thoughtful. It was there in his actions - from the way he held my hand to help me over a particularly large fallen tree, to the way he averted his gaze from my breasts when we talked.
Jendan was a nice guy. A friend.
It was kind of refreshing after being stranded for a week with someone like Kip. Someone that expected to get by on looks and charm alo
ne.
“Ah, there’s a taro plant,” I told him, spotting one of the elusive creatures. I headed forward and approached it, running my fingers along the edges of one large leaf. “See these? They look like elephant ears. You want to dig up the root, though. A stick will do.”
He glanced around, and then headed off to the side. “I think I saw a decent stick over here.” As he walked forward, I admired his body. Something caught my eye, and seeing it, I froze.
There, right in front of Jendan, was a tree with a neat split right down the middle.
Chapter Nine
“Hello, my name is Jendan Abercrombie, a permanent resident of the fucking friend zone. Every damn time.” — Jendan Abercrombie, Day 7, Endurance Island: Power Players
I didn’t say anything about the split tree.
Maybe I should have, but I was playing the game for myself, right? I couldn’t show my whole hand right away. That’d be stupid for sure. I did hold my breath as Jendan dug at a taro root close to the tree, but if he realized it was forked, he ignored it.
Maybe he didn’t have the same clue I did. Maybe there was a Pandora’s Box for each team and he had a different clue. Maybe Sunnie had the clue. My head spun with all the ‘maybes.’
We dug for roots a bit longer, finding both taro and tapioca. Jendan insisted on sharing the findings with me, so we’d both have something good to eat back at our respective camps. When the cameraman notified us that the Judgment challenge would be in an hour, Jendan hugged me, which made me intensely aware of his body against mine. He thanked me for my help, and asked to meet me again the next day.
Of course I agreed. Visiting Jendan made the long, boring day go by so much faster. While things looked exciting on TV, the ‘reality’ of reality TV was that for every five minutes of interesting television, it equaled out to lots and lots of boring hours on our end. Talking to Kip always seemed to shred my temper, so I avoided him.
It was just…really nice to talk to Jendan and have someone on the same level as me. Someone whose conversation wasn’t the equivalent of “Tits or GTFO.”
Jendan waved goodbye and headed further into the jungle. I returned to camp and was immediately hustled toward the waiting speedboat for the next Judgment Challenge.
“Hey, do you have your canteen?” Kip asked me, yawning as we boarded the boat. “Mine’s empty and you weren’t around to boil me some more.”
I shot him a scathing look. “Boil your own water.”
“If you don’t boil me some, I’ll just take yours when you’re not looking.”
He would, too. And then I’d have to boil some anyway, and he’d just take what he wanted. Seething, I plopped down in the boat and didn’t speak until we got to the challenge.
That particular Judgment challenge was a tricky one, with a stair-step puzzle and an obstacle course to retrieve the puzzle pieces. Nevertheless, Kip and I performed well as a team, and we ended up in second place, safely out of danger. To my relief, Jendan and Sunnie pulled into fourth place. Jendan had put Sunnie in charge of organizing the puzzle while he did all of the physical work, and it ended up working to their advantage. In last place were Emilio/Leslie - Team Seven - and Jerry/Saul — Team 5. Kip wanted to vote to keep Emilio and Leslie out of solidarity for our own prior season. I was fine with that, since Jerry and Saul would end up being a tougher team to beat in future challenges. It seemed like we weren’t the only ones thinking that way — Jerry and Saul lost the vote and went to Judgment, and after a water-hauling challenge, Jerry went home. Saul was now playing solo.
When the challenge was over, we went back to camp. Kip immediately collapsed in my small shelter, hogging it. “If you’re heading to get water, my canteen’s by the fire pit.”
Furious, I scooped up his canteen. He wasn’t even trying to be helpful! I was just as exhausted as he was. The challenge had been a truly physical one. But we were both out of water, and I knew it was vital if we wanted to keep up our strength. I needed Kip until I saw what was in Pandora’s Box…
And now would be the perfect time to go retrieve it.
“Fine, I’ll get water,” I told him, infusing the perfect amount of sarcasm in my voice so he wouldn’t get suspicious. “Don’t work too hard.”
“Don’t worry about that,” he called back lazily.
Looping both canteens over my shoulder, I headed into the jungle. The water well was the first stop, and as I filled our canteens, I had visions of dropping Kip’s canteen in and pretending it disappeared for all time. Of course, then he’d just steal mine. I screwed the lid on and hefted the now-full canteen against my naked hip. It wouldn’t be drinkable until it was boiled, which meant more work for me….
I paused. Gazed down at Kip’s canteen in my hand, marked with a K in grease-pencil.
Maybe I just wouldn’t boil it.
I’d boil mine, sure. I wasn’t crazy. But if Kip wanted his boiled, he could do it himself. I could just passive-aggressively hand him his full canteen and let him figure out the rest. If he got a little bit of Montezuma’s Revenge because he was drinking unboiled water, he’d figure it out in a few days.
And I’d have my subtle, ongoing revenge for him writing Lousy Lay on my back.
Pleased with myself, I filled my canteen and then re-covered the well. Time to go exploring. I had about an hour until the sun was going to set, but I knew exactly where I was headed now. I made my way deep into the trees, snatched up a digging stick as I walked, and headed for the forked tree. I eyed the roots. The note hadn’t said which direction to dig in, so I was just going to have to make holes in the ground until I figured things out. I picked the most likely spot and began to dig with my stick.
That hole yielded no success, but when I started in on the next spot, my stick struck something hard. Excited, I began to clear away the sandy soil. A small, red-lacquered box came into view, and I eagerly dug it out, now using my fingers instead of the stick.
The box was no bigger than my fist, the surface smooth. A black silk knot (now covered in dirt and sand) held the clasp shut. I quickly pulled it apart and flung the lid back.
A small white card was inside, the writing across the front stark black.
Are you sure you want to open me?
Of course I did. This was a game show, and I’d come to play.
I pulled the card out and opened it. The inside was decorated with drawings of palm trees and read: Congratulations on opening Pandora’s Box. If your team loses Judgment, speak the Power Word. This word will automatically eliminate your partner. You will be safe. Your word is Kere Kere - Please - in Fijian. This word can only be used once.
I squealed with excitement. This was exactly what I needed.
Goodbye, Kip. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.
Chapter Ten
“I feel a little bad for poor Sunnie. I keep ditching our camp to go spend time with Annabelle. There’s just something about her. She has the greatest smile, and there’s a lot of determination in those eyes of hers. The fact that she’s willing to play as physical a game as she can? It makes her really damn appealing.” — Jendan Abercrombie, Day 11, Endurance Island: Power Players
Day 11
“Welcome to today’s Judgment challenge.”
We stood in the hot sunlight, lined up on the beach. No one was smiling or excited today. Yesterday’s Judgment challenge had been a grueling slog of racing through a sandy obstacle course to retrieve buried labeled coconuts. While it had looked relatively simple, it had been cloudless and humid yesterday, and the heat combined with the sand had made it the worst challenge yet. Through a run of bad digging luck, Summer and Polly had trouble finding their buried coconuts, and they’d ended up in last with Kissy and Rusty. Everyone had banded together to vote the power duo of women out, and Polly had gone home. Summer stood next to me in the line-up, a grimly determined expression on her face. I think it was the first time she realized we were all against her.
Today, instead of a three day r
eprieve between challenges, we’d been called out for yet another one. Everyone looked unhappy.
Well, everyone except me. I’d done my best to lag behind in the last challenge. Deliberately. Kip, however, had acted like he was the lone hero of the entire show and ran the thing almost single-handedly. When we’d returned to camp, he’d given me a few scathing looks, as if disappointed by my ‘lack’ of athletic prowess, but otherwise said nothing. It occurred to me that he didn’t even realize I’d tried to throw the challenge.
I eyed today’s set-up as the cameramen moved past, filming us. It looked a bit like yesterday’s obstacle course, except the sand had been smoothed out from the churned mess it was yesterday. At several places along the beach, stations had been set up. One looked like nothing but oversized banana leaves piled together on a table. Another looked like a row of buckets, and an enormous spitted pig was at another. At the farthest end of the beach, several pits had been dug, with a sturdy pole set in the middle. Each pole had a tiny flag emblazoned with team numbers and held up a pair of scales.
“Let’s begin,” Chip said, looking down the line at us. “This is a back to back immunity challenge. We told you that things were going to be more difficult this season, and we weren’t lying. Win this round, and you’re safe for another three days. Lose, and this could be your last day on Endurance Island.” With that grim pronouncement, he turned and gestured at the stations. “Today, you are going to be collecting ingredients for a traditional Fijian lovo feast…without using your hands.”
Someone gasped.
I stifled my groan, straining to hear Chip’s instructions. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as it sounded.
“There are four different ingredients for this challenge. To make your lovo pit, you need these things: smooth stones for baking, banana leaves, the meat itself, and of course, dirt to go on top. The ingredients can be collected in any order, but you need five pounds of each ingredient for every person on your team. If you are playing solo, you need five pounds. If you are playing with a partner, you need ten pounds of each. Understand?”