Oh, thank God.
‘Thank fuck,’ he muttered.
‘Excuse me,’ Lily said. ‘What kind of attitude is that?’
‘It’s the attitude of someone who hasn’t slept for weeks and is sick of dealing with your shit, Lily,’ Murray snapped. ‘Now sit down.’
She didn’t. ‘We’ve had this conversation, Murray. You don’t talk to me like that.’
He ignored her. ‘You all know the drill,’ he said to us. ‘Actually wait for the person who’s been cut to get in if you want any screen time. I’m out of here.’
‘Murray!’ Lily said. ‘Don’t you dare walk out of here like that!’
He did. She followed, sweeping through the room in her satin dressing gown as spectacularly as she’d swept through the First Night Party in that enormous yellow Rihanna dress. ‘You don’t fucking speak to me like that!’ we heard her screech as she slammed the French doors behind her.
‘Dibs on not being on the sameJuliet on the Beachseason as her,’ Belinda said. ‘No one else would get a second of screen time.’
‘I don’t know,’ Samantha said, taking a sip from her hot chocolate. ‘She might get eliminated early. Who’d want to date her?’
Everyone was still talking aboutJuliet on the BeachwhenLily finally came back in. ‘Well, that’s put him in his place,’ she announced, leaning forward and snagging a marshmallow from the bowl on the table. ‘Now move over. I want to sit in the middle.’
We all obediently shifted. It was just easier to do what Lily wanted, most of the time.
Which was why, when we all trudged up to bed after Jess D arrived at the Convent, I didn’t say anything when Lily wheeled around and screamed, ‘No! I will not sleep in the same room as this bitch! This is inhumane!’ right in my face. I just sighed, rolled my eyes, and headed back downstairs.
The green eye of the camera winked balefully at me as I curled up on the couch. They might not be watching right this second, but someone on the production team was going to watch me sleep.
I wondered whether the prisoners in the panopticon worried about the guards watching them sleep. About the things they might do or say while they were unconscious that would give away the last little bit of themselves they’d managed to keep private.
Maybe that was why Lily had made me come down here instead of sleeping down here herself and getting in an extra seven hours of camera time. It was hard to pretend while you were asleep.
…Or maybe she was planning some awful prank on me that she wanted to capture on camera. Ugh.
I rested my head on the arm of the couch. Joke was on her. You didn’t grow up in group homes without learning to sleep with one eye open.
The wind rattled the French doors. I let out a long breath and looked into the glowing coals of the fire. A week and a half to go. I just had to stick it out for a week and a half and then I could go home to Flick and Ayo and work out how to put myself back together.
The doors rattled again, and again.
Slowly, I sat up. It was just the wind, I told my ridiculous, treacherous heart.
My bare feet hit the floor. I padded over to the French doors. I twitched aside the curtains.
‘Dylan,’ I whispered.
‘So this is where you live,’ I said.
‘This is it,’ he said, setting me down and jumping nimbly from the jetty onto the deck. ‘Can you make it? Here, take my hands.’
I did. The calluses on his fingers were rough against my skin as he helped me onto the boat.
‘And’ – I bit my lip – ‘there are no cameras here?’
‘No cameras,’ he confirmed. ‘Just you and me.’
He hadn’t let go of my hands.
It was the first conversation we’d had since he appeared at the French doors. ‘Come outside,’ he’d beckoned me, and when I’d gone outside and opened my mouth, he’d put his finger against my lips. ‘Not here,’ he’d whispered, his breath a white cloud, leaving a thin film of fog on his glasses. ‘Let’s go somewhere we can talk properly.’
