The Next Big Thing (29 page)

What is the juiciest piece of gossip Janelle’s ever spread?” he asked. “Janelle doesn’t gossip. Period,” Matt insisted. She nodded. “Good job, honey.”

Honey?
Uh-oh . . .

“Regan told the world that I got a nipple piercing,” Briana said, and Regan frowned.

“I didn’t tell anyone about that,” she pouted, pulling out her card, which read,
Affair with professor.

Briana burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah, you’re right. Me sleeping with my prof
is
juicier.” The two of them began giggling.

“Nick?” Jagger prodded. Nick blinked in surprise. He looked a million miles away. “Oh, right. Let’s see . . . the juiciest piece of gossip Kat has spread would probably have to do with that boss of hers, Richard. She’s always going on about his long-winded meetings. . . .”

My face flamed red. Just what I needed. My grievances about Richard Geddlefinger aired on national television! And, worse still, it wasn’t even the right answer. I pulled out my card, which said
Donna dumping Chip.

Jagger moved on. “Matt, who is the bossiest person Janelle knows?” He gave a shy shrug. “My mother. Janelle and my mother never saw eye to eye.”

Janelle gasped. “No way, Mattie! I adored your mom.”

He brightened. “Really? I thought you loathed her.”

“No, trust me, she was precious.” Janelle laughed, and held up her card, which read
Alyssa Combs.
“This was worth losing five points over.”

“Laugh all you want. Just remember who you’re giving those points to,”
Alyssa sang out.

Regan and Briana missed the question as well.

Then it was Nick’s turn. “The bossiest person in Kat’s life is herself.”

“I’m afraid I can’t accept that answer,” Jagger said. “It’s against the rules.”

“Make whatever rules you want,” Nick said. “I’m giving you the absolute truth on this one; it’s your decision whether or not you accept it.”

“I’m not bossy.” I bristled at the insult.

“You tell everyone what to do,” he argued. “All the time.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t except that as an answer,” Jagger said.

“Fine, then. Her mother.”

“Kat?” Jagger prompted.

Miserably, I held up my card. It had been nothing more than a wild guess, but he’d gotten it right.

“Getting back on track, let’s add a l
ittle romance into the equation,” Jagger said. “Matt, tell me, what age was Janelle when she had her first kiss?”

“I know it was with Troy Coltrone, and I think she was fifteen,” he said. “Am I right?”

Janelle grinned from ear to ear. “God, it’s so cool that you know this stuff,” she said, confirming his answer.

“Briana?”

“Um, Regan was sixteen? No, eighteen,” she decided.

Regan shook her head. “I was fourteen, Briana! You don’t pay attention to me at all
,” she wailed, squeezing shut her eyes as tears began to form.

“Nick, how old was Kat when she got her first kiss?” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “
Seventeen,” Nick announced. “Todd Annex.”

I blinked in surprise. I was surprised he remembered. I figured he’d blocked everything I’d ever told him out of my memory.

Before we could get to another question, a production assistant came rushing over and handed Jagger an envelope. He didn’t open it. “What I have here in my hands is both an invitation and a test,” he said, strolling along in front of us. “It’s a test of how compatible you are . . . and an invitation to take things to the next level.”

Oh, God. Knowing my luck, now they’d force Nick and me to make out and let
Alyssa, Luisa, and Maggie critique our moves.

“Ever since the live show, Regan has been sharing a room with her sister. It’s been a fun experience for both, providing ample opportunity to bond.”

I snickered. I didn’t think
fun
was the term Regan would use to describe it.

“As promised, your room assignments are about to get a little more interesting.”

Jagger held up the envelope. “I have here the keys to two cozy, romantic bedrooms, previously closed off to our houseguests. Janelle and Matt; Kat and Nick—the choice is yours. You can stay in your original living quarters or move into a new romantic hideaway. Saying yes reflects how much faith you have in your relationship. Saying no reflects doubt. I need your answers now.”

Janelle turned pink. “What do you want to do, Mattie?”

Matt’s voice grew soft. “I don’t know . . . I kind of think we should go for it.”

Janelle swallowed hard. “What the hell,” she said, breaking into a smile. “It might be interesting.”

“Yeah,” Matt said, grinning, “it might be.”

It was amazing, seeing how, despite time and circumstance, the two of them were still so connected.

“Nick and Kat?” Jagger asked, gesturing toward us. “I need your decision?”

I drew in a breath.

“Oh, boy . . .” It was a tough choice.

“I’m not interested,” Nick said simply.

Apparently, it was only a tough choice for one of us.

“That’s pretty abrupt. Want to give your reasons?” Jagger asked. “I think it’s quite obvious,” Nick said.

“Why would I want to live with
Kat
?” He said my name as though it were a dirty word. A funny thing happened at that moment. My body was baking under the hot lights but inside I felt frozen solid.

My mind faded from the game. I went through the motions, dutifully holding up my cards when cued, but I felt lifeless.
I didn’t care when Alyssa and Maggie began chastising Jagger over the “unfairness” of the scoring system. I wasn’t even interested that Nick had actually gotten a few answers correct (wagering that I believed in ghosts and that my favorite candy bar was Snickers). I didn’t even notice when Janelle and Matt went on a sudden losing streak.

Suddenly, Nick and I found ourselves tied with them for first place. All I had to do was answer one question correctly, and we’d win
the cars, the trip, and the mountain bikes.

“If Nick could be stranded on a deserted island with any celebrity, who would he pick?” Jagger asked.

There was a part of me that wanted to say Johnny Depp as a final, dramatic “F You.” But then I thought about my car back home, the one that was on its last leg. And I thought about how much I’d come to love riding the exercise bike here in Greg’s gym. I could really use a new Schwinn to pedal around Memphis once I got out of here. I even thought about how much I’d love to have a trip to Hawaii (a trip I could be certain I’d be taking without Nick).

I quickly turned toward Janelle. If I answered this correctly, we’d have first place, leaving Janelle and Matt empty handed. Should I go for it, or push this to a tie-breaker.

She nodded and smiled at me, as if to say, Do it.

My eyes searched hers and she nodded again. Assured that Janelle was okay with me taking the prize,
I took a deep breath and I said, “If Nick could be stranded on an island with any celebrity, he’d pick Jessica Biel.”

Nick held up his card.

“Congratulations, Kat and Nick!” Jagger boomed. “You’ve won the grand prize!”

I stood up from my seat, numbly. I knew I should be happy, but I didn’t even care.

All I cared about was how mean Nick had been, and how terrible I felt when I was around him.

And there were the things I didn’t know. In all the time we’d talked, he’d never mentioned his fear of flying, or his knack for surfing, or his own
sister,
Sophie. Maybe it was my fault for not asking the right questions, or maybe Nick had deliberately kept parts of himself a secret. We might have won the competition, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d never known him at all.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“You weigh 193,” Greg pronounced, as I stepped off the scale the following Sunday.

Since being dumped by Nick and stabbed in the back by Donna, I had thrown myself into an exercising frenzy.

Alyssa, on the other hand, had thrown herself at Nick. She’d flirted, flashed her cleavage, and hung around in Greg’s Gym, pestering Nick while he ran on the treadmill. She’d even stooped to a new low—lounging around in a bikini to catch his attention. It was excruciating to watch. Not only was Alyssa blessed with perfect blond hair, perfect clear skin, and perfect perky boobs, but she’d effortlessly shed her excess pounds, revealing a gorgeous new physique.

Sure, she still had a tiny pooch around her stomach and a small amount of cellulite on her thighs, but overall she looked amazing. It didn’t seem to be paying off. Aside from a few friendly greetings, Nick hadn’t given her much of a response. But at least he was
talking
to Alyssa.

“I thought we were going to be friends?” I told Luisa later that day as we chopped pineapple for a snack. “I don’t understand why he’s such a wall of silence.”

“Nick’s crazy,” Luisa said. “Messed-up big-time.”

“He needs to be on medication,” Regan agreed. “He’s obviously polar,” she said, and I laughed.

“You mean bipolar, right?”

“Polar,” she insisted. “One minute he’s up, the next he’s down. It’s a disease.”

“Sure, okay,” I obliged. I didn’t want to get into the semantics of it with her, and besides, I’d wanted to name my autobiography
Height/Weight Disportionate.
I had no room to talk.

“Howdy, Kit Kat,”
Alyssa said, coming into the kitchen. “Others.” She gestured toward Luisa and Regan. “Thought you all might like to know I’m making some real headway with Nick. Considering how little you and Nick have in common . . .”

Seeing my stricken look, she added, “No offense, honey, but you didn’t even know Nick had a sister. Even
I
knew that!”

I gulped. Had
Alyssa really known about Sophie? If so, I felt like a world-class fool.

“So Zaidee’s arranging a romantic dinner for me and Nick tomorrow night. Isn’t that great?”

“What?” Luisa gasped.

I fought hard to keep from reacting.
She’s only doing it to get to me.

“That
is
great.” I decided it was time for a different tactic. “I’m glad to see Nick’s moving on with his life,” I said, with enthusiasm.

“You are?”

“Yes, I am,” I said, thinking
keep your friends close, your enemies closer.
I put down the pineapple I’d been chopping and turned to face her. “I wish only the best for you two.”
You’re both snobs. You deserve each other.

“The only bad thing is
Jagger’s
going to be our server. I used to think he was cute, but now I realize he’s just so,” she paused, as if searching for the right word, “simple.”

“Simple?”

“And he’ll probably try and flirt with me during dinner.”

“I
doubt it,” Luisa said.

I doubted it, too, but I kept my mouth shut.

“I’m a guy magnet, so you never know,” she said. “And if all goes well, Nick might wind up inviting me back to his room.”

“Good luck,” I said cheerily. And then, as though nothing would make me happier in the world, I leaned over and gave her a quick hug.

***

The evening of
Alyssa and Nick’s romantic dinner, I killed time by playing drunken charades with the other houseguests. Even Maggie, who now spent the majority of her time napping in her private suite, came downstairs and joined us. Luisa fetched a few cartons of light beer from the Tomb of Temptation, and we spent a solid two hours drinking and goofing off. It was a wonderful distraction, and I forgot all about Nick.

Until around eleven o’clock. We had finished our game, and the alcohol had worn off by that point. I wasn’t the least bit tired so I ventured outside to lay by the pool and stare up at the stars. Gazing up and out, seeing the night sky that stretched on for countless miles beyond the house I felt free.

I’d been out there for God knows how long when it happened. “Hey Kit Kat, what’s shaking?” Alyssa said, sneaking up behind me.

I jumped. “I didn’t hear you come out. How was your dinner?”

“Mmm. My head’s spinning.”

“Too much to drink, eh?” She smiled, and put a
wouldn’t-you-like-to-know
expression on her smug face.

I tried to fight it, but my curiosity got the best of me, and I played right into her hands. “What, did you guys hook up or something?” I
asked.

“Oh, we
more
than hooked up.” She plopped down on the lawn chair next to me and stretched out her long, slender legs. “Kat, you have no idea what you’re missing. Nick is
incredible
in bed. I was seeing stars.”

I felt nauseous.

“You’re such a liar,” I spat out. “Do you honestly expect me to believe you slept with Nick? ’Cause that’s so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny.”

“There was no sleeping involved.” She turned to stare directly into the camera. “It was
two hours of nonstop action. It’s a miracle I can walk. I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.” She laughed and then massaged her legs for emphasis.

My mouth was gaping open. This was obviously a joke.

“You have
no
idea what you’re missing,” Alyssa continued, letting out a low whistle. “You should have gotten him while you had the chance.”

“You are such a liar!” I
said, again “You’re just saying this to get attention!”

“Stop being bitter, Kit Kat. You lost him, I found him. And you know what they say—finders keepers.”

She was unbelievable. I couldn’t listen to another minute of this; I had to get out of there. “You guys deserve each other,” I told her, jumping up from the lawn chair. I stormed into the house. I needed some time alone, to make sense of it all.

And, well, who doesn’t think better on a full stomach? I’d never gone back into the Tomb of Temptation, not since that first time with Regan. Sure, I’d tasted some of the goodies that others had taken out, but I’d managed to keep myself from succumbing to its lure.

No more.

I stumbled into the kitchen, nearly tripping over Regan, who was slumped across the floor.

“They’re doing it,” I burst out, shaking. “They’re having sex!”

She looked at me slowly and shrugged.

“Don’t you even want to know who I’m talking about?”

She didn’t say anything.

“ALYSSA AND NICK! I figured he had a thing for your sister—and I could accept that because she’s gorgeous. But no, he’s sleeping with Alyssa! Fucking. Screwing. Making love,” I said, trying out all the words I could think of to describe it. None fit.

“Huh.”

I had reached my boiling point. I wanted some kind of a response—a simple “that sucks” would have sufficed. Something, anything! As it was, Regan was barely even listening. “And later tonight you, Janelle, and I are going to run around the backyard naked!” I shrieked, trying to elicit a reaction.

“Yeah, we could do that.”

“Regan!” I exclaimed, sinking down on the floor next to her.

“What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I just spent forty-five thousand dollars.” She closed her eyes, then rephrased it. “I
lost
forty-five thousand dollars from my
Fat2Fab
bank.”

My jaw dropped. I momentarily forgot about
Alyssa and Nick.

“How?”

“I ate it.”

“What?!” She gestured toward the Tomb of Temptation.

“It costs money now.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “What do you mean ‘it costs money’?”

“We can’t just go in and get what we want. We have to buy it.” She pointed up again and I saw it. Fastened onto the Tomb of Temptation door was a small touch screen, the kind used at ATMs. “You type in what you want on there, and it dispenses it. Like a big vending machine.”

“But we had beer from there earlier tonight . . . that was free.”

“They changed it.” She sniffed. “I just bought a box of cookies and a bag of chips.”

“And that was forty-five thousand dollars?”

“I also bought a medium pizza,” she said, hiccupping. “Pepperoni and onions.”

She wasn’t lying about that last part. I could smell the onions on her breath. “But, that shouldn’t have been more than twenty bucks!”

“It’s expensive,” she said, sighing. “Like ten thousand for a pack of donuts.”

“Oh, Regan,” I said putting my arms around her for a hug. “
Why
did you eat that stuff?”

“I was upset. I had to.”

“Whatever was bothering you, you should have talked to someone about it. You can’t run to the Tomb of Temptation whenever something bad happens. You can’t eat away your problems,” I said. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized what a hypocrite I was. I’d been totally primed for a binge-fest of donuts, candy, and chips myself. I was no better than her.

“It’s Briana,” Regan whispered. “I can’t live in this house with her. She’s driving me crazy.”

“She’s not that bad,” I said, even though I hadn’t spent enough time around her to make that call. “You guys did pretty well on Match Made in Heaven, which proves you’re somewhat compatible.”

“Who cares if we’re compatible? Briana tells me I’m a disgusting pig. She says even if I lose weight I’ll have all this excess skin and still be a gross fattie.”

Ouch.
“Briana also said they’re building a bridge to connect California and Great Britain,” I offered.

“Yeah.” Regan nodded. “I’ve heard about that, too. It’s supposed to be ready by 20
17.”

Apparently being thick ran in the family.

“Well, I wouldn’t put much stock in anything Briana says.” Borrowing a line from Jagger, I added, “Besides, she’s shallow. What do you care what shallow people think?”

“Nick’s shallow, and you care what he thinks.”

She had me there. At the mention of Nick’s name, devastation washed over me again.

“Have you got any leftover pizza?” I asked.

She shook her head. “But there’s plenty more where that came from.”

I stood up and began punching up food items on the menu. “Jesus. I can’t believe they’re charging
five thousand dollars for a piece of cake!”

Regan nodded sadly.

I thought it over for a minute, then said, “What the hell, every girl deserves a splurge now and again.” I ordered up a bottle of vodka for twenty thousand dollars.

“Beer before liquor, never been sicker,” she cautioned.

“Trust me, there’s no way I could feel any sicker than I already do.”

Regan’s eyes met mine and we started to laugh, big gut-busting wails. I bent forward, holding on to my stomach with my hands and I laughed so long and so hard I thought I might throw up.
 

 
Jagger tugged gently on my shirt sleeve.

“Kat?” Somewhere between my fifth and sixth vodka and diet Coke I’d passed out; my body slumped sideways on the kitchen floor. I blinked my eyes, trying to come to grips with my surroundings.

I looked around the kitchen and noticed Regan was gone.

“What are you doing?” I mumbled. “You’re never here this late.”

“It’s six in the morning,” he said. “I get here at this time every day.”

“Holy FUCK!” I said, wide awake. I could see tiny slivers of sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window.

“Where’s Regan?”

“She passed out on the couch. I took her back to her room. Here,” he said, helping me up. “Put your arm over my shoulder and I’ll take you upstairs.”

“No, I can make it,” I said, struggling to stand. My head was spinning.

“I heard what happened with
Alyssa,” he said.

The memory came rushing back, and my body buckled. “They had a big night. . . .” I said bitterly.

Jagger nodded. “I heard the audio.” He pulled me up, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Just put your weight on me.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted. I was too embarrassed to put my weight on him. I didn’t want Jagger to feel all 193 pounds of me.

The house was dark, but the camera crew was there nonetheless, capturing everything.

“It’s okay,” Jagger said, as I started to slump into him. He steadied me in his arms. “It’s turning into a pattern . . . every time we arrange a dinner for Nick, you wind up getting plastered.”

“God, you’re right. I’m normally not a drinker. What the hell’s wrong with me?”