Page 65 of Forever is the Sweetest Con
“Do you think something happened to them?” Trina asks, her eyes wide with worry.
“Nah,” Damian says. “They’re fucking with us, one hundred percent.”
“But maybe we should go check on them?”
“No way,” says Giovanni, tossing a stick onto the fire. “Tyler will go ape if he catches us messing around the crew cabins.”
Several people murmur in agreement, but Trina doesn’t look convinced. “But what if something bad happened, like a fire or something?”
“We’d know if there had been a fire on the island,” Kei says. He’s so gentle and reassuring. I want to hug him, but with the way he has been ignoring me all day, I keep my distance.
“They will be back in the morning,” Isa says, confidently.
“I think so, too,” Kei says. “And if they’re not, and you’re still worried, we can check on them then. But let’s not worry until we have a reason to, okay?”
Trina nods, and Sid slides a protective arm around her shoulders. We sit and watch the fire until it’s nothing more than glowing embers.Then we kick some rocks on it and walk in a silent line back to the Bunkhouse. I hold Kei’s hand, but his grip is lifeless.
In the Bunkhouse, I’m relieved when he climbs in next to me. I slide closer to him, hoping he’ll lift his arm and let me into the warm nook of his body. But he turns onto his side, his broad back facing me.
“Night, night,” I whisper into his shoulder blade.
He doesn’t answer. Under the blankets, I squeeze my hands into tight fists to keep me from touching him, from grabbing his arm and shaking him, pleading with him not to mess this up, that nothing has changed, thatwe’restill in this, we’re stillus.
But instead, I just dig hot crescent moons into my palm with my fingernails, the physical pain easier to reckon with than what’s going on with my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It’s Kei, not the morning bell, that I wake up to the next day. Through bleary eyes, I see him sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over, holding his head in one hand. I shift, propping myself up on my elbow.
“You okay?” I see the silver glint of a granola bar wrapper in his hand.
“Yeah. My blood sugar’s low, probably just all the stress from yesterday.”
I sit bolt upright, suddenly completely awake. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”
“I’m good.” He turns and looks over his shoulder at me. “Honestly,” he says, his voice softening. “This happens. I just needed something to eat.” He stands up, his hand on the edge of the top bunk to steady himself. He reaches for his mic and slings it over his neck.
“Where are you going?”
“To make us some breakfast.”
“What? No, you should rest. We can make our own breakfasts.”
He shakes his head. “I’m fine.” He stretches his arms over his head, the muscles in his back rippling. He dresses, quickly and silently, while everyone around us sleeps. He goes to leave, but I grab his hand. He turns back, a questioning look on his face.
I purse my lips and tap them, hungry for some physical connection. He leans down and pecks my mouth, his lips hard and cold. But a kissis a kiss, and it’s better if it’s not one that undoes me completely, like the others. I may have, for a moment, felt like I was falling for Kei, and he may have, for a second, insinuated that he felt the same, but as long as we can keep our eyes on the prize then none of that matters.
I watch him as he walks away, studying his gait for any sign of weakness. It occurs to me that I’ve never heard any mention of a medic on set. Surely there must be someone, in case of an emergency, a nurse or a first responder of some kind. We must be hours from a hospital…I make a mental note to ask about this once the crew is back.
Even without the producers, we divide into our gendered groups at breakfast. Kei has made oatmeal with apples and cinnamon. It’s sweet and warm and comforting, exactly what we need to lighten the mood.
“Here’s my theory,” says Harmony, licking her spoon. “You know how some reality shows have a twist? Like, when the contestants think they’re on one type of show, but then they find out it’s actually something different?”
Valeria nods. “Like that one where they’re told they’re going to be having all these sexy hook-ups, but then they learn they aren’t allowed to touch one another?”
“Or the one where they’re competing to get a millionaire to fall in love with them, but then they find out the guy is, like, a schoolteacher or something?” Trina pipes up.
“Exactly.” Harmony nods. “That’s what’s happening here. It’s a plot twist.”
