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I listened to the voicemail.
“Congratulations on your show, Peanut.” His warm voice felt like a big hug. “Cassandra from next door helped me with the VCR to record it. I watched after work. I am so proud of you. Love you!”
He had to be the only person on the planet still using that ancient technology, or at least the only one left using it who didn’t understand how it worked.
I got myself ready and headed out to the shuttle. Excitement filled the air as everyone filed in. My mind wandered back to Tristan.
It didn’t hit me until I was in my seat, and Layana was talking, that maybeTristanwas avoidingme.
“It could be anything.” Layana flattened her mouth into a line. “I wonder if it’ll be craft challenges every time.”
Glitter whipped around in her seat at that. “Uh-uh, no way. My cousin’s best friend’s dog walker knows someone in marketing, and apparently it’s supposed to be a variety show, with a diverse range of trials. Each day will be a bigger and bigger challenge.”
Bigger? How was I supposed to settle in if each challenge was bigger?
Also, was I supposed to call her Glitter or Juno? Better just to ask.
“Am I supposed to call you Glitter or Juno?” I asked.
“Glitter when I’m decked out in my shimmery silver paint like I am now,” she said. “Juno the rest of the time.”
I made a mental note.
“A variety of challenges.” Layana blew out a sigh of relief. “Whew. I don’t think I could handle it if it was all artsy stuff. Then one of you two would win and I’d be out in no time.”
She gestured toward me, as if I was one of the two who had a chance to win.
“I rated solidly in the middle,” I said. “I don’t think crafts mean I would win.”
“Then the judges are stupid, because your weasel was totally rocking,” Layana said.
“It was,” Glitter agreed.
Layana quickly amended, “And of course they aren’t stupid for picking your necklace to win, Glitter. Well deserved.”
“Totally,” I said. I didn’t really understand Glitter’s piece—a roll of toilet paper made out of beads plus some beaded flowers by the look of it—but I honestly didn’t really understand mine either. If you’d have asked me any other day, given me any actual time to consider it, the last way I would have described myself is “like a weasel.” But that was neither here nor there.
I didn’t care who actually won. Layana and I were still here, still on the show, still enjoying food and shelter, so we were winning life.
“I hope that guy who got kicked off is doing okay,” I said. I was pretty sure he was one of the people who had come to the bar with us the other night, and his name started with a C.
“Kevin said he was following the circuit, jumping right back on the horse,” Glitter said, apparently having her finger on the pulse of everything reality show related. “Next audition is today down at Bravo, and he’s determined that one will be his big break.”
Kevin. So not a C, but I was close.
I said, “Good for him, I guess.”
At the TV station, we once again entered the too-bright set filled with tables.
“Hi.”
The soft words came out on an exhale, tickling the back of my neck.
I jumped and turned around, finding no one in my personal space. A shiver carried up my spine.
Chester stood at the table behind me with a tricorn hat on his head. While staring directly into my eyes, he lifted a large orange half-moon shape up to his chin. It looked like a blocky costume beard. He snapped the beard onto tiny straps hanging from his hat by his temples.
The texture of the beard was wrong for fabric or foam—too crumbly and moist looking.
