Page 40 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

No, inside is Chase and Selena, looking like they’re two steps away from having full-on sex in the supply room of the tiki bar. Her bikini is askew, his hair is rumpled, and they only look up when they hear me gasp.

“Ohmygod!” Selena wrenches away from Chase. “Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit.”

“Wha—” Chase looks around, bewildered. When he catches sight of me, he has the grace to look stricken. “Alice! I—”

He struggles to sit up, forgetting that Selena is straddling him, and instead lands in a heap on the floor, taking Selena with him in a tangle of limbs.

My eyes flick to Lex, who lowers the boom mic closer to us, just in case our regular microphones somehow aren’t sufficient to capture this moment of stunning humiliation. I wouldn’t say that I thought Lex and I werefriends, but I do shoot them a look and Lex just shrugs—they’re just doing their job.

I’m suddenly hyperaware of the cameras pointed at me and Daniel. There are multiple, because I guess they need to have footage of us reacting from every possible angle.

It’s clear what our roles are right now: the jilted lovers. Half of me wants to scream, or run to the tiki bar, grab a drink, and throw it in Chase’s face. But the other half of me knows all too well that this moment didn’t happen on its own. Dawn Taylor told Leah to bring us here. They knew what was happening. They didn’t stop it. Hell, they may have encouraged it. And now they’re trying to get the most out of this moment by filming my reaction.

I should probably give in to what I’m feeling and let them have their big blowup. But part of me is too stubborn to play this part that they’ve written for me.

I can’t stop the tears welling up in my eyes, but I can freeze my handsto my sides, fix my expression, seal my lips together. I won’t let them have this.

Chase ducks his head in an “aw, shucks” gesture. Like he ate the slice of cake I was saving or forgot to fill the car up with gas again. Not like he just betrayed my trust, ended a three-year relationship, and threw away our chance at winning the one million dollars that I so desperately need.

My mind goes to very small, very stupid things. We’re on a cell phone plan together. Neither of us can afford our current apartment on our own. We only own one frying pan. The logistics of breaking up are drowning me. Did he even stop to think about who would get the couch before he cheated on me? How is he going to cook without a frying pan?

Oh, who am I kidding. He doesn’t know how to cook. He barely knows how to bake frozen pizza. For our entire relationship, I’ve been the one holding his hand. I should’ve gotten to choose when to let go. Not him. And not like this.

When Chase and I first got together, I wasn’t thinking about forever. But as the years went by, I got used to how things were between us. I always knew exactly what he wanted for dinner, or what he felt like watching on TV, or what he liked in bed. And I knew that he’d always text me back, and that he’d remember my birthday and make a huge deal out of it, even if I asked him specifically not to. He was stable, consistent, safe. That’s not terribly romantic, I know. But when you’re someone who runs on anxiety and caffeine, having one less person to worry about is nice.

Once my mom got sick, when everything was crashing down around me, Chase was the one constant I could hold on to. Cindy and Tara were there for me, too, as were so many other people, but they all had their own lives. I didn’t want to burden them too much with how crushing everything felt, how my world was falling to pieces.

Despite the sun beating down on us, I’m starting to go cold all over. I feel like any second now, I might throw up or pass out. The tearsin my eyes are starting to spill over, and I turn away from Chase and Selena and this whole nightmare scene—and see Daniel, watching me, not Selena and Chase. He looks—I’m sure this can’t be right, but he looksworried.

But then his gaze flashes to the cameras, and that look is gone. He turns to Chase and Selena.

“What the hell, guys? We were in a secret alliance,” Daniel says, leaning into Lex’s boom mic. Then, quietly to me, “You’re not breathing, Alice.”

He’s right. I suck in a deep breath, and I feel a little bit less like I’m going to faint.

Just then, Dawn Taylor materializes at our side, summoned like some kind of sultry drama demon, with Seth right behind her.

“What a turn of events,” she says in a tone that borders on sympathy but doesn’t quite make it there. “Tell us what you’re thinking.”

“I’m sorry, Danny,” Selena says, reaching across to grip his hand. He lets her touch him, but he doesn’t take her hand, doesn’t return the clasp. “We were just hanging out, and it was so hot, and this PA said we could cool off in here, and then—” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”

“I think someone locked us in by accident,” Chase says, scratching his head. “It was like seven minutes in heaven, or something.”

“Alice, Daniel, this is your chance to get things off your chest,” Leah prompts us.

I shake my head. If I talk, I might start crying in earnest, and I can’t think of anything that would make this worse.

Dawn Taylor places a hand on my shoulder. “Alice, don’t you have anything to say? Your fiancé just broke your heart—”

At that, Selena glares at Chase and hisses, “You were engaged?!”

She glances at my ring finger, and I realize she’s seeing the engagement ring for the first time—which makes sense, because I wasn’t wearing it yesterday.

Dawn Taylor is still going. “—and that’s a pretty big betrayal. Howare you going to move forward?”

How do I move forward? I don’t. I can’t. I feel frozen in this moment.

“Babe, I’m so sorry,” Chase says, reaching out to touch my arm. “I didn’t think—”

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