Page 28 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

“Perfect timing,” Chase says. “I’m Chase, and this is my girl, Alice. She’s a math teacher.” He says that last part proudly, and I raise my hand like I’m in class.

“We’re big fans of teachers. I always say they’re doing the Lord’s work. I’m Jaxon and this gorgeous woman is my girlfriend, Brittany,” the guy says. Jaxon is tall, tanned, and seriously built. His blond hair is cut short, and his eyes are blue enough to rival the crystal-clear water we’re surrounded by.

“Hey, y’all,” Brittany says with a matching Southern drawl. “We’re just so excited to be here. We’ve never left Alabama before this trip, if you can believe it! I don’t know if it’s just that they haven’t fed us all day or this is really the best barbecue pork in the world, but it isdelicious!” Brittany is rocking a red flannel shirt tied over her bikini top and jean cutoffs, and she’s got her brown hair pulled back into two pigtails.

“This food is a cut above what I was expecting, but it’s certainly no Michelin-starred establishment,” the guy next to me says as I take a seat. He’s wearing stylish dark-rimmed glasses, and he’s now wearing a loose, patterned button-down and dark-blue Bermuda shorts. I glimpse metallic red highlights in his wavy black hair.

The woman on his other side snorts out a laugh. “Tarun, the cameras aren’t rolling. Rein it in. I’m Kendall, by the way.” Kendall has her jet-black hair cut short and slicked back. She looks impossibly cool, with a dazzling constellation of piercings—I’d say sixteen in total. Dangling from her ears are two smiling avocadoes. Her shirt has loopy writing that saysLive to Eat.On closer inspection, the pattern on Tarun’s shirt is actually colorful pieces of sushi.

Kendall notices me staring and waves a hand at their shirts. “Our producer, Seth, told us to really play it up,” she explains. “They don’t exactly go in for nuance on reality TV. I’m sure when they show us on screen, there’s going to be a caption that says ‘Foodies Forever’ or something.”

Chase chuckles. “I wonder what we’re supposed to be?” he says, glancing back at me.

Brains and Brawn? Math Teacher and Hot Fiancé? Hopefully not anything too bad.

“I’m not sure I want to know,” I say.

“I told Bryan we’d better be Ava and Noah, Power Couple,Forbes30 Under 30, Successful Adventurepreneurs,” the woman across from me says. She’s still wearing her Rise and Grind T-shirt from earlier, but she’s draped her blazer over the back of her chair.

Her boyfriend—or husband or partner in business and life—Noah is tall, with gelled dark-brown hair, a white collared shirt, and black business-suit pants. He takes Ava’s hand. “I don’t think all of that will fit in the subtitle, darling, but if anyone can negotiate for more screenspace, I’m sure it’s you.”

There are two other people at the table, but we don’t get around to hearing their introductions because they’re locked in a sloppy makeout session. They’re both wearing black clothes covered with more zippers, spikes, and clasps than one would expect. They have coordinated knee-high black combat boots with spiked toes and matching elbow-length gloves with the fingertips cut off. The woman’s hair is dyed bright green, and her partner has black hair with matching green highlights. They look like they’re ready either for a Mad Max–style fight to the death or to repair a bunch of postapocalyptic tanks.

“They’ve been like that since we got here,” Ava says dismissively. “I don’t even think they managed to eat yet.”

“What, sucking face doesn’t count as getting your daily essential nutrients?” Kendall cracks.

“Too bad they didn’t take first place,” Brittany says. “They’d be puttin’ that cabana to work.”

I think of Daniel and Selena in the cabana, putting it to work. Nope, no thank you. Not thinking about that. It’s so weird, seeing Daniel with someone. I don’t think he ever dated anyone seriously in high school. He always seemed, well, like me. Laser-focused on our studies and nothing else. But I’m with Chase now, so I guess we’ve both changed.

This day has been a lot. Jet-setting around the world, jumping off a boat, falling on my face in the sand on national television, and seeing Daniel Cho again after almost eight years of total no contact—it’s enough to make my head spin.

After dinner, I want nothing more than a blisteringly hot shower and a comfy bed to collapse in, but Leah has other plans for us.

“Last event for the evening before we get you to the villa,” Leah says as we follow the crew. “We need some photos of the happy couples.”

It’s just before sunset, and the ocean is shimmering with the fading sunlight. Gone are the luxurious couches and wicker side tables from earlier. They’ve been replaced with beach towels placed at regular intervals down the beach, with tiki torches flickering at each end of the row.

“This is your beach time,” Leah explains. “The light won’t last forever, so we’ll get a few promo shots of everyone lounging around, and then we can call it.”

Oh, right, our punishment for losing Limbo is an evening date on the beach. It’s not much of a punishment, but compared to Daniel and Selena’s flower-lined cabana, it’s definitely a step down.

I sink down next to Chase on the beach towel. My bikini, which has made it into my Top Ten Most Hated Outfits of All Time, immediately rides up as I sit, and I struggle to discreetly pick out my wedgie as the wind picks up, causing goose bumps to erupt along my arms.

“Can I go get my sweatshirt?” I ask Leah.

“Sorry, Alice, no time. We’re already losing the light. Besides, you’re not going to pop on screen with a sweatshirt. You’ll just look like a sack of potatoes next to, well.” She gestures at Chase, who’s all abs. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep this short. No filming, just photos.”

Between standing up to adjust my bikini and the uneven sand, when I finally try to settle down, I end up stumbling right into Chase’s lap.

“Whoa, there,” he says, setting me right. “Slow down. The race is over, babe.”

He goes to put his arm around me, but I pull back.

“About that,” I say, remembering how today’s competition went. I should be relieved that we made it, but all I can feel is the sharp edge of near failure. “Chase, if we’re going to win, we’ve got to get better at working together. What happened at Limbo can’t happen again.”

“I thought we did great!” He gazes at me, puzzled.

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