Page 66 of Forever is the Sweetest Con
“So, what, we’re going from a dating show to, like, someSurvivorshit?” Sue-Ellen says.
“They said they’d pitched it asLove IslandmeetsSurvivor,” I say, remembering Gabby and Tyler at the audition, how they were so intense about the challenges and adversity the campers would be facing, how this was a different type of dating show.
“So what, they’re seeing how long it takes us to goLord of the Flieson each other?”
“Maybe,” Harmony says. “Maybe it’s a social experiment, to seehow we handle the stress—I honestly don’t know. But I think it’s all part of the plan.”
“So, they’re all just hanging out somewhere, watching us?” Trina says, sounding hopeful.
“I think so,” Harmony says, nodding. “I mean, doesn’t it make more sense than any other explanation? Like, what, did they get kidnapped? Abducted by aliens? They abandoned production in the middle of the season and left us all here to die? All highly unlikely.”
In the absence of a better explanation, this is something we can hang on to. And at least Trina looks reassured. “If that’s the case, then what do we do now?” she asks.
“We just keep doing what we’re doing. They’ll have to give us some kind of direction, at some point. We need to keep our eyes open, watch for signals or messages they might be trying to send us.”
I glance around at the other girls. No one looks particularly reassured, but there seems to be a consensus that it’s the best working plan. For now.
That theory makes for an interminable day. After we finish our chores, we spend the rest of the afternoon looking over our shoulders, anticipating a jumpscare, waiting for something—anything—to happen. It makes me feel listless and irritable, like we’re in some holding pattern with no indication of if or when we can move forward. I swim as long and as hard as I ever have, but even that doesn’t do much to calm the buzzing in my brain.
At dinnertime, the mood is tense, and only gets worse when Giovanni approaches Kei for a second helping of rice and beans, and Kei refuses him.
“What the fuck, bro? I’m still hungry,” Giovanni says, sliding his plate across the counter toward Kei.
“I know, bro, but we’ve got to watch our portions, conserve what we have, until we get more food.”
“It’s not like they’re going to let us fuckin’ starve or anything,” Giovanni says, leaning across the counter to grab the serving spoonout of Kei’s hand. But Kei snatches it back. “Who made you king of the kitchen? Huh?”
Kei exhales. “I’m not the king of anything, I’m just managing the food supply, that’s all. It’s for you as much as it’s for me.”
“Yeah, well, I should be able to eat what I want, when I want.”
“Leave it alone, G,” Damian says, a hint of warning in his voice as Giovanni stretches across the counter on his tiptoes in a pathetic attempt to get up in Kei’s face.
“You can finish mine, babe,” Valeria says, trying to keep the peace.
“Naw, fuck this.” Giovanni flips his plate and stalks off. We watch as his plate clatters against the stainless-steel counter, rattling in a hypnotic spiral, until Kei clamps a hand down to silence it.
“I’m sorry,” Kei says to the group. “Maybe I’m out of line. I should have talked to you guys about the food situation. I just kind of took control, but I should have asked you.”
A chorus of disagreement rings out. “I’m more than happy for you to be king of the kitchen,” Sue-Ellen says. “I sure as sugar wouldn’t want to do it.”
“Me neither,” Isa agrees.
“We need to meet as a group,” Sid says, “to figure out who’s going to do what.”
Kei nods. “Good idea. Let’s get a fire going, then we can talk about it there.”
A few people leave to get the campfire ready, while the rest of us stay to clean up. We silently orbit around one another; the only sounds are of dishes clattering in the sink. When every dish is cleaned and dried and put away, and every surface is gleaming, Kei knocks his fist against the counter.
The sun has slipped behind the horizon and there’s a chill in the air as we gather around the campfire. Harmony and Damian are wrapped in the duvet from their bunk, and when I sit down on the other side of her, she lifts her arm, inviting me to slide in and share the warmth.The other campers sit huddled in their couples, waiting for someone to take charge.
Kei clears his throat. “Does anyone want to kick this off?” Giovanni scuffs his heel into the gravel, avoiding meeting Kei’s eye. “Alright, well, in the interest of keeping things simple, I think we should all take on one chore that we do until the producers are back and we’re on some sort of roster again. Are we all good with that?” The group nods in agreement. “As I said, I’d like to do food prep. Is there anyone who wants to help me?”
“What the fuck?” is what I want to say. But what I say instead is “We should work within our couples. I mean, that’s probably what they want us to do, right? Like, to see how all of this affects our relationships?”
Kei gives me a blank stare, but after a moment, he nods. “Okay. Me and Cleo will do food prep. Who’s up for groundskeeping?”
Kei seems relieved as the other chores are quickly covered. “Is there anything else anyone wants to talk about?” He scans the group. “Trina?”
