He sighed. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Cece. I saw the footage, and I’m not an idiot. I know you had a little crush on him, and I know you snuck out to see him last week. Who do you think Lily got to tell him that you wanted to talk to him?’
‘Thank you,’ I said, because it was the only thing I could think of that wasn’t absolutely incriminating.
Thank fuck I’d been sneaking in and out of the laundry window, outside of the cameras’ vantage points, ever since that first night.
Oh God. What if there were cameras that I didn’t know about? What if Murray had started with the nice shit and he was building up to theWe know what you’ve been doing, you dirty little slut. We’re going to edit it out of the show because it doesn’t fit with our perfect love story, but it stops now, do you hear me?part?
‘You got your shit sorted?’ Murray said. ‘If the friend narrative plays as well as the network thinks it’s going to, then they’ll probably want to get Dylan back for your season, to offer you advice, vet some dates, maybe do a reprise of that quiz group date, that kind of thing. But it’s not going to work if you and Dylan aren’t cool with each other, so did you sort it? Are you cool?’
I love him and he loves me,a braver version of me might have said.This show is ruining both our lives.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘We’re cool.’
I managed to slip away to the laundry not long after Amanda arrived, teary-eyed and newly eliminated, at the Convent. I felt bad about it, because she’d been so nice to me on that first night, but my mind was racing and buzzing and chasing itself in circles. If I stayed in the living room any longer, I was going to have an absolute meltdown that the network would have to put on camera, even if I was going to be the star of the next season ofWherefore Art Thou Romeo?
I hugged my knees to my chest, leaning back on the wall behind the washing machine. What the fuck was I going to do?
Part of me – a big part – wanted to do what I always did. Scramble out the window. Hightail it down to the lake. Jump onto Dylan’s boat. Kiss him. Sleep with him. Let him put his arms around me.
They offered me the lead onWherefore Art Thou Romeo?, I would tell him, as he gently stroked my hair.
What are you going to do?he would ask.
What do you think I should do?I would reply.
He would shake his head.I can’t tell you to do anything. I can’t ask you to do anything. I’ve never been able to offer you anything.
But then he’d dip his head close, and say,I love you, and I’d love him and hate him back in equal measure for saying that to me.
I’d thought he was perfect, but he wasn’t, not really. I was always the one that had to make the choices.
That seemed like a good quality in a man. I couldn’t really remember what I’d drunkenly typed in thatMarry Me, Julietapplication back when Flick and Ayo and I drank all those vodka pineapples, but ‘someone who doesn’t try to make decisions for me’ sounded like something I might have written in response to the question ‘What do you want in a romantic partner?’.
Pity that quality was also deeply, incredibly frustrating.
Outside the laundry door, I could hear some of the women beginning to traipse up the stairs to bed. The full moon wasbright outside the window. Dylan must be done with his post-Necklace Ceremony interview by now. He’d be back on the boat, waiting for me. Waiting for my answer. Waiting for me to offer to wait for him.
He wouldn’t get angry if I told him no. He might shed a few tears, but he wouldn’t get angry.I understand, he’d say.Can I kiss you goodbye?
Yes, I’d say. Of course I would. I’d probably sleep with him too, one last time.
It would be the last time, though. The sun would come up, and that would be the end. I’d come back here. He’d tell Hero Nurse Dylan he wanted to be with her. I’d meet a whole new bunch of men onWherefore Art Thou Romeo?Some of them might be lovely. None of them would be him.
But I’d be six figures richer. And I’d never have to worry about money – well, maybe notnever, but at least not for a long time.
What would my life look like if I wasn’t worried about money all the time? If I could ride out the pandemic and whatever came next without being constantly terrified?
I could buy a house. It would be mine, so I’d never have to worry about a landlord throwing me out ever again. It would have a fridge that would always be full. Flick and Ayo could come and live with me if they wanted. I’d have rooms for both of them, and I wouldn’t have to charge them rent, not if they couldn’t afford it. I’d have doors I could close when I wanted to be by myself. I wouldn’t have to hang out in a fucking laundry to get a minute to myself.
I could do what Dylan had done with his charity. I couldstart my own. I could help other foster kids. I could make sure they always had food and clothes and anything they needed. I could do what it was I’d got into criminology to do: work to change the narrative that kids like me were destined to be criminals. Maybe I could find some eight-year-old somewhere who didn’t know the right thing to say and couldn’t stop crying, and I could bring them home with me, and when I saidI love youto them they’d know I wasn’t going to leave.
But I’d be doing it on my own. Because I wouldn’t have Dylan.
I’ll wait for you, I’d say to him.I’m offering.
I wouldn’t doWherefore Art Thou Romeo?then. I’d go home like everyone else when filming finished and the Stage Four restrictions lifted. I’d go back into lockdown with Flick and Ayo. They might have lost their jobs too by now, for all I knew. Maybe instead of me being the one who’d have to rely on them if I was late on rent, they’d be relying on me and myMarry Me, Juliethundred dollars a day.
We’d watch the premiere together. Watch my humiliating elimination.Ouch, they’d say.You really didn’t vibe, hey?
