…Well, at least it would be a distraction.
‘While you’ve been getting to know Dylan, so has Cece, but in a very different way,’ Z said. ‘How would you describe your relationship, Dylan?’
I need you. Too much, I think.
‘We’re friends,’ Dylan replied. ‘This has been such an intense and strange experience that I’d probably say Cece’s one of my best friends in the world now. Wouldn’t you agree, Cece?’
‘Uh, yes,’ I said. ‘I think we’re going to be close friends for a long time to come.’
I made the mistake of looking at the Juliets. Their expressions ranged from upset to thunderous. If the look on Lily Fireball’s face was anything to go by, she was going to smother me in my sleep.
At least I wouldn’t have to worry about all my Dylan feelings then. What a miniscule silver lining.
‘So that’s the twist in today’s group date challenge!’ Z said, apparently oblivious to the real and present danger to my life. ‘Juliets, do you know Dylan better than his best friend?’
Actually, I probably didn’t need to worry about Lily smothering me in my sleep, or the metaphorical knife twisting in my heart. It was fairly clear someone was going to stab me with a literal knife sometime in the next five minutes.
I was directed over to a spot on the end of the line of Juliets and handed a miniature whiteboard and marker. ‘All right, it’s time for our first question!’ Z announced. ‘Over to you, Dylan JM.’
‘Here we go,’ Dylan said. ‘Let’s start with an easy one. I was lucky and privileged enough to win a gold medal at the last Olympics. In which sport?’
Sailing, I scrawled on my whiteboard.
‘Congratulations, you’re all correct!’ Z announced, as we turned our boards around. ‘But I think Parisa’s competing for a bonus point!’
‘Hang on,’ Dylan said, jogging over to Parisa. ‘I’m not wearing my glasses, I can’t see what you—Oh, right, yes! Itwasin men’s laser. I can’t believe you remembered that!’
I knew that, a petulant part of myself wanted to whisper as he turned his lethal smile on Parisa.
But I was not allowed to be jealous.I was not allowed to be jealous.
‘Let’s call that a bonus point for Parisa!’ Z said. ‘That puts her in the lead on two points, with everyone else on one point. Question two, Dylan.’
‘I speak three languages,’ Dylan said. ‘What are they?’
I knew it was bad that I felt incredibly smug and self-satisfied when I was one of only three women who correctly wrote down English, Sinhala and French.
But did that stop me?
Of course it didn’t. I got another point for knowing Dylan’s star sign (Libra), two more for being able to name his siblings (Jamie and Gita), and one more for knowing where he was born. ‘Aha, it’s a trick question,’ Dylan said, when we all turned our boards around. ‘It was actually in South Africa—what the hell, Cece, you got that right?’
No, I definitely didn’t need to worry about the long-term ramifications of my feelings for Dylan. Even Amanda – by all accounts the nicest person who had ever lived – was looking upset, so I was one hundred per cent going to die before it became any kind of long-term problem.
‘All right,’ Z said a few questions later. ‘We’re down to our final question. There are three ladies who could potentially win that single date with Dylan: Parisa, Naya, and – proving that sometimes your friends really do know you better than your partner – Cece.’
I could feel, rather than see, the seven other women trying to kill me with their minds.
They were right to feel that way. If I’d still been here, in the Villa, I’d have been furious, no matter how hard Dylan swore up and down that he and I were just platonic.
And we were just platonic. I needed to remember that. If I really did have feelings for him – oh, who the fuck was I kidding, there was no denying I had feelings for him! – then it was much kinder to both him and me if I let him go about the process of finding love without becoming the officialMarry Me, Julietthird wheel.
‘This is a tough one,’ Dylan said. ‘What are my three greatest fears?’
Sharks, I wrote down. (‘How are you scared of sharks?’ I’d ribbed him when he told me. ‘Aren’t you Poseidon, god of the sea?’)
Then,heights.(‘Thank God this isn’t a regularMarry Me, Julietseason,’ he’d said to me, ‘I never would have coped with all those dates where you have to jump out of planes and rappel down cliffs and shit.’)
And finally, I touched my marker to the whiteboard… and stopped.
