Page 27 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

“No reason. Just curious.”

Before, I’d assumed that Chase’s lacrosse buddy had tapped us forthe show as a favor to Chase. But after the conversation we just had, I’m starting to wonder if we’re actually the ones doing him a favor. After all, it shouldn’t be hard to recruit for a show like this, even if you’re in a pinch and didn’t back up a few files. Maybe Bryan wanted to bring someone he knew into the cast, for whatever reason.

I don’t bother speculating about any of this aloud. Chase is just so trusting, there’s no way he would be willing to question Bryan’s motivations. But I was raised by a woman who would clip out newspaper articles about homicide cases and leave them on my desk for me to read. You don’t survive in America as an Asian immigrant without a healthy dose of paranoia, and my mother never let me forget it.

As Cindy pointed out so many months ago, I’m on a remote island with no cell service, surrounded by perfect strangers. The only person I truly have on my side is Chase, and that isn’t exactly reassuring.

I’m taking one step after another, my feet sinking into the soft sand, and I have to focus to avoid stumbling. I reach out to steady myself on Chase’s shoulder, but he’s no longer matching my pace and is rapidly leaving me behind.

I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the deep exhaustion settling into my bones, but for a second, I’m struck with the feeling that I am completely and utterly alone.

[INTERVIEW FOOTAGE: SOLO TALKING HEAD—DANIEL CHO, ALICE CHEN]

DANIEL CHO:Seeing Alice here was certainly a surprise.

[Cut to Alice on the beach, squinting into the sun.]

ALICE CHEN:Are you kidding me? What are the odds that he would be here? Am I cursed?

[Cut to Daniel, leaning against a palm tree.]

DANIEL CHO:Were we close? I wouldn’t say that, but we were friendly, in a competitive way. We went to different schools, but we were always crossing paths at academic events.

[Cut to Alice, scowling and wiping sweat off her forehead.]

ALICE CHEN:He was the literal bane of my existence.

[Cut to Daniel with a smile on his face.]

DANIEL CHO:We haven’t seen each other since high school. I’m excited to catch up with her.

[Cut to Alice, glaring at someone off camera.]

ALICE CHEN:All I know is he better stay out of my way.

Chapter Six

Hell Is Sitting at the Popular Table

I make a beeline for the buffet, determined to get my strength up and shake off the weird mood that just descended on me. I could cry when I see a spread that looks like it came straight out ofFood Network Magazine.The roast pig is surrounded by chafing pans filled to the brim with tender-looking brisket and fall-off-the-bone spareribs, an array of grilled vegetables and tropical salads, and bowls of fresh salsa. Sprays of hibiscus frame the table, and my god, it’s all so beautiful. Cindy likes to say I’m food-motivated, like one of those orange cats who do anything for treats, and she’s not wrong.

Everyone else has gotten their food already, but there’s enough left over for me to feast. I pile my plate full of barbecue pork, coleslaw, roasted pineapple skewers, and papaya salad. Right behind me, Chase has plopped a giant rack of ribs on his plate.

He shoots me a thumbs-up. “This is the life. We should go on reality TV all the time.”

“Uh-huh. Where should we sit?” I ask, scanning the beach. I know there are nine couples left in the competition, and three picnic tables outside the catering tent. Daniel and Selena are eating in their cabana, so that means there should be two to three couples at each table. But the other contestants seem to have ignored this perfectly logical breakdown, because four couples have crowded onto one picnic table, with the rest at the other two. I’m about to suggest we head to the closesttable with room when Chase points at the already-crowded table.

“Over there! That looks like the place tobe,” he says, and breaks into a trot, his plate of ribs held high like he’s a waiter. I cast a longing glance at the emptier tables, but he’s right. It’s in our best interest to befriend the other contestants—and maybe pump them for information—and the easiest way to do that is to eat with them.

“Hey, party people! Make some room,” he says with his most charming smile.

For a split second, the other contestants look up at him, clearly trying to assess him. I’m struck by how gorgeous everyone is. Duh, this is reality TV, and we all have producers ensuring we look better than our best. But it’s one thing to know that and another thing to be faced with four hot couples right in front of me. Part of me, the part that still feels like a nerdy kid with off-brand shoes and Rite-Aid makeup, expects these supernaturally beautiful humans to laugh and pelt us with their pineapple skewers.

But I should’ve remembered that this is Chase doing the asking.

“Of course!” The closest woman slides over to make room for us, and her partner gives Chase a welcoming clap on the back. I recognize him from the beach—he’s still wearing his cowboy hat and boots.

“We were just introducing ourselves,” he says.

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