Body Games (Games #5)(3)
Author: Jessica Clare

“As I said, it’s going to be a tougher season.”

Like an idiot, I wavered. “I’m not exactly thrilled with how I was portrayed last season.”

“New season, new villains,” she chirped. “Plus, don’t you want the chance to redeem yourself?”

Boy, she knew just the right things to say to hit my buttons, didn’t she? I thought of the money. Fifty grand if I made it to the jury. That would make a huge dent in my mounting student loans. More than that, though…I could redeem myself.

I’d play hardball this time. No Annabelle the Make Out Bunny. I was reasonably athletic, reasonably likable…why couldn’t I turn things around?

Hell, I’d have to do better than last time. There was no place to go but up, really.

Still, I wasn’t eager to jump right back on board. I’d lose my (admittedly not great) job. I’d be back on TV and back on the minds of everyone. With the exception of today, things were starting to calm down again. Going back on TV would put me back to ground zero when it came to the public forgetting about me.

But…fifty grand.

“Are you still there, Annabelle?”

“I’m here. Just thinking.”

“We’d really, really love to have you on this next season. You’re a strong player and a very polarizing one.”

AKA, you’re notorious and you won’t fly under the radar. I was exactly the kind of player they loved, I supposed. If you can’t be great, be interesting.

I wavered even more. Still, I had to know a few things first. “Is Kip playing?”

Judy sighed. “I’m not going to lie. He is.” Before I could protest, she hurried on. “But! I can put in a request that you be on opposite teams, and wouldn’t you love the chance to play against him?”

More tempting words. And Kip was someone that definitely didn’t play under the radar, so he’d either end up running his team or getting the boot right away. I was hoping for the latter. How much would it stick in his craw if I lasted longer than him?

A whole hell of a lot.

My phone buzzed with an incoming text. I pulled it away from my ear and looked. It was from work. Deenie called in again. Can you cover her shift tomorrow? 11-9. Thx!

Damn it. I’d worked seven days straight already. Endurance Island was starting to sound like a vacation. “Where is it filming?”

“Fiji,” Judy told me. “A few private islands. Totally lovely. Totally not the rainy season, either, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Oh wow. Fiji for six weeks. I pictured white sands, blue waters…and fifty grand. “I have conditions,” I said after a moment.

“Name them,” Judy said quickly. “If you want to be on this season, we need to fly you out tomorrow. Like I said, we start filming ASAP and I desperately need to fill this hole in the cast list.”

“No Kip.”

“Noted. What else?”

“No slut edit.”

She paused for a moment. “That’s not exactly in my jurisdiction, but I can pass it along.”

Fair enough. I had no intention of giving anyone any sort of footage that would make me look questionable in any way. If I went back there, I was playing hard and rough. No more nice Annabelle. “And I want fifty thousand regardless.”

“You get fifty if you get on the jury.”

“Even if I don’t make the jury, I still want fifty.”

I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. “Normally I’d have to refuse,” Judy began slowly.

“But you’re crunched for time and you need to fill a hole in the cast list,” I added helpfully.

“I…need to make a few phone calls.”

“I’ll wait.”

The phone clicked over and she put me on hold. As tinny hold music played, I gazed at my tiny apartment, thinking hard. I couldn’t believe I was even considering this. Kip was going to be on that island. I hated Kip. He was a jerk and a user, and I was the island bimbo.

Fifty grand, though.

I could turn Judy down. Go in and cover Deenie’s shift at the restaurant tomorrow and make a hundred bucks in tips, if I was lucky. Endure more customers recognizing me from the show. Ignore the second notices on my student loans that were now coming due since I’d dropped out of college.

Or I could spend six weeks in Fiji and make fifty grand.

Was fifty grand really worth it, though? I made a fool of myself last time. Wounded my pride, my ego, and my heart. My confidence, not strong after last season’s debacle, wavered. Saying no was safe. Saying no would let my life go back to normal. I could forget about stupid TV shows and jerks that used me for my vote, and the humiliation of being branded as a slut on national TV.

The phone line clicked over. “The producers say I can offer you fifty grand no matter your placement as long as you sign an agreement that you won’t mention your compensation to the other contestants.”

How could I say no to that? “When do I fly out?”

~~ *** ~~

Twenty-four hours later, I was caught up in the Endurance Island whirlwind of contestant preparations prior to filming. There were waivers to sign, contracts to look over, basic prep work, medical tests, and grooming. By the time I emerged from the offices, my hand hurt from signing and initialing documents, my arm had been stuck with half a dozen shots, my hair was blonde again (“So the audience can remember who you are!”) and I was waxed within an inch of my life. I was TV ready.

Except for one thing — my clothing.

“Don’t I get a bag of supplies at this point?” I asked the production assistant shepherding me toward a plane.

She slapped a mask into my hands. “This is for when you arrive in Fiji. Your flight is going to take you from LA to Fiji direct as an overnight. Once you get there, a production assistant will be waiting for you on the island. Your flight has been staggered with the other contestants so no one arrives at the same time. In the event that your flight is delayed, production requires that you put on your mask as you disembark the plane so you don’t catch sight of any of the other contestants.”

I stared down at the black-shaded goggles in my hand. It looked like a dive mask with the lenses filled in. They expected me to wear this through the airport? I mentally pictured myself wandering blind through the crowded airport. Yeah, fat chance. “Clothing?” I reminded her again. “No one’s even measured me for sizes. I remember that from last time.”