Body Games (A Games Novel) (4 page)

With that said, Chip sliced his hand across his neck in a ‘cut film’ motion. “Let’s pause for now and move everyone into their teams.”

Obediently, cameras went down and a production assistant stepped forward with a clipboard. “Okay! We’re going to call out names and when we do, I need you to go stand next to your partner over there.” She pointed at the beach just as another assistant drew an X in the sand. “Teams are not negotiable. We ready?” Without waiting for an answer, she flipped a page on her clipboard and put her glasses on. “Team one — Kandis and Brodie from
House Guests
.”

Someone clapped awkwardly, and others followed suit. I did the same, feeling a little stupid. I mean, it wasn’t a reward to get a teammate, right? But acknowledging it felt better than standing there and doing nothing.

The couple that had been holding hands on the boat moved forward, beaming up at each other. They were sickeningly cute together, and I hoped that they’d be crappy players so they’d get the boot faster. The problem with lovey-dovey couples was that they were intensely loyal right until the end. There was no maneuvering for their votes. After all, everyone had tried to get me to turn on Kip and I’d been dickmatized up until the very end.

“Team two - Jendan and Sunnie from
House Guests
!”

I clapped politely again as tall, dark and sexy that had been standing next to me strode forward and gave a comfortable hug to the pretty redhead. It figured that the hottest guy on the island would be paired up with the prettiest girl. I sighed inwardly. The good ones were always taken.

I was a little concerned as they fist-bumped and stood in place next to each other. They didn’t look surprised to be teaming together. Had they been warned ahead of time that they would be teamed up? Did everyone have a pre-set team but me because I was a late arrival? I glanced awkwardly down the line, wondering who I’d be paired up with.

At my side, Kip wiggled his eyebrows in my direction.

I delicately turned away, feigning interest as the production assistant flipped another page on her clipboard. “Team Three - our girls team, Summer and Polly, from
The World Races
.”

The two women in matching athletic gear - and okay, matching ponytails - bounded forward and took their places on the beach next to the other couples.

“Team Four - also from
The World Races
, Kissy and Rusty.”

An older couple with matching graying mullets moved forward. In contrast to everyone else that was lining up on the beach, they weren’t in great shape. Kissy (who I assumed was the woman) was dumpy and Rusty had a bit of a gut, but they were smiling and looked thrilled to be on the show. That made me warm up to them a little. They seemed nice and genuinely pleased to be participating.

“Team Five - Jerry and Saul from our first season of
Endurance Island
!”

I recognized the two guys. Big, meaty firemen. They were both slightly older than the rest of us, being in their early forties, but were in great shape. They’d also played a mean-ass game and stomped the competition. I was actually surprised to see them, since I’d heard their mean-spirited play had soured a lot of viewers on the show and only the big romance in the second season with Abby and Dean had turned the ratings around.

“Team Six - Alys and Christopher from
Endurance Island
season two!”

Not the lovebirds I’d remembered from that season, but solid competitors. I was also starting to get really uncomfortable as the line of contestants narrowed down. There were four people left standing, and they were all from my season.
Last
season. Myself, Kip, Leslie, and Emilio. Leslie was an older woman with a salty mouth and a sour attitude. Emilio was as sweet and personable as Leslie was rotten. They’d been an odd couple to become friends, but last season, they’d been incredibly tight and had a secret alliance together. I’d been surprised to watch, every week, as they made decision after decision together in private while keeping their distance in public.

Did that mean I was going to be teamed up with Emilio, then? I liked Emilio - he was strong and athletic, and a super-fast swimmer. I would be totally fine with being Emilio’s partner. But something about that struck me as odd. Why would the producers separate the two of them?

That only left Kip as a partner for me…but surely not…

“Team Seven - Emilio and Leslie!”

And there was my answer. The producers
wouldn’t
separate them, which meant that I was Kip’s partner. We were team eight.

I’d been lied to.

Chapter Three

“I felt sorry for Annabelle with that whole beach scene. Cute girl, seems strong.
Sunnie’s a sweetheart, but she’d rather lay around on the beach and work on her tan than figure out how to win this thing.”
—
Jendan, Endurance Island: Power Players, Day 1 Confessional

“Absolutely not,” I yelled out, striding forward even though my name wasn’t called.

“Please be quiet—” Chip began as the production assistant looked up from her clipboard and frowned in my direction.

“No way,” I said, my angry footsteps spraying sand as I marched over to Chip and the woman in charge. “It’s in my contract that Kip and I are supposed to be on different teams.”

“I can assure you that it’s not in your contract,” the production assistant said with a sniff. “Teams were outlined with legal yesterday.”

“Yes, but the casting director promised me…” My voice trailed off at their expressions.

A smirk crossed the production assistant’s face and was echoed on Chip’s. “The casting director, huh? She has no say over who is teamed up with who,” the production assistant told me. “If she did, it would have been in your contract. Did you read through all of your contract?”

I blinked for a moment, stunned at her nasty expression. I hadn’t combed through the contract word by word. I’d just assumed…

Damn it. Gullible Annabelle strikes again.
You know what they say about assuming
. I really was my own worst enemy, wasn’t I? “I don’t know if it is or not.”

“It’s not,” she informed me in a snide voice. “Please go take your spot. As I said, teams are not negotiable.”

“I refuse to be on Kip’s team,” I said through gritted teeth. I should have felt betrayed by the casting director, but all I really felt was embarrassed. It was my own fault that I hadn’t read the documents thoroughly enough.

“Are you forfeiting?” The production assistant asked.

“What happens if I forfeit?”

“We have to find another contestant and you’ll be charged for each late day of shooting.”

Uh. “How much does each day of shooting cost?”

“A couple hundred grand.” She smiled tightly. “It’s all outlined in your contract.”

Hell. I looked over at Kip.

He smirked.

I wanted to punch his face. I was stuck, and it was my own fault. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what I
could
do. If I walked, I’d be stuck with who only knew how much money in debt. I didn’t want to stay, but it wasn’t sounding like I had a choice.

“Don’t forget about the twist,” Chip said in his fake announcer voice. “You’re teamed up, but you’re still competing against each other.”

Oh yes. Pandora’s Box and the post-Judgment competition. Maybe we’d get lucky and lose the first round and I could beat Kip in a challenge. Maybe.

I hesitated, then moved over to the line and stood next to Kip, my hands clenched with helpless fury. I’d endure, if only for the chance to vote Kip’s ass off.

“Good,” Chip said, smiling over at me as if I’d made the right choice. “It looks like our lineup is going to stick. This is going to be a great season, guys.”

I looked over at my partner, then down the line at the others who were starting with a buddy already. I wasn’t so sure about that whole ‘good season’ thing. It was clear I was going to be flying solo on an island of two-man alliances.

“Ready? Let’s start filming again.” Chip made a motion with his hand and all cameras lifted. The game was officially back on again. As we waited, one cameraman panned his camera wide, getting a shot of us, lined up on the beach. “Ready for the next twist?”

A cheer rose from the contestants, some more enthusiastic than others. I clapped halfheartedly, my joy for the day already gone. If they’d lied about Kip, had they lied about the fifty grand, too? Ugh. Had I fallen for a con hook, line, and sinker? I hadn’t even questioned it - I’d just assumed everyone was telling me the truth.

Again.

God.

“All right, guys,” Chip’s voice interrupted my self-loathing. “As I said before, everything you’re starting the game with is in that box right here.” He gestured at the row of colorful boxes lined up at his feet, each one no taller than his knee. “You’re not even allowed the clothes on your back. At the signal, find your box with your name and change into your gear. Once you have your gear, the game starts. This is your first challenge.”

I shivered. The game was beginning already. I was ready for this, though. All weekend, I’d brushed up on my skills that I’d learned from my last round on the island. I could make a decent fire with coconut fluff if given time and supplies. I was flexible and in shape. I studied puzzles and the local flora and fauna on the flight out so I wouldn’t be unawares. I was as ready as I could be.

“When I say go, you will change into your playing gear. Once you are changed, take your box and haul it across that line on the far side of the beach.” He pointed into the distance, and I could see a row of cameramen lined up next to a finish line with tiny waving flags. It was about a hundred yards away. Not a fun sprint, but a do-able one.

“The last team to change out of their clothing and into their
Endurance Island
gear will not be nominated for Judgment - they will be eliminated. Today is your first day in the game…and it will be the last for two players. This is immunity, Judgment, and execution all in one swoop.”

As a one, contestants started to cast confused looks at each other. We were all thinking the same thing - we were going to have to change clothes on the beach? In front of each other? Really? What the heck was up with that? This was national television, not cable, so I knew that any boobs or balls would be pixelated out, but I wasn’t relishing the thought of getting naked in front of anyone, much less fifteen other someones…

And an entire camera crew watching, to boot.

Okay. I told myself I could do this
. I studied the box, thinking. Inside, there would probably be a team shirt designation or something along those lines. Maybe a slip dress. I could probably wiggle into something without flashing my boobs to the world.

“Everyone ready?” Chip raised his hand, a gleeful look on his face. He quickly lowered it. “Go!”

There was no time to think. Everyone hauled ass forward, sand spraying as sixteen pairs of feet ran toward the row of boxes across the beach. The wind whipped strands of hair into my eyes and Kip quickly shoved ahead of me. I slowed momentarily, letting the stampeding rush of bodies swarm ahead. It wouldn’t do me any good to push ahead of Kip only to be slammed to the ground by a rogue elbow. I trotted as close behind the others as I dared, and reached the colored boxes a few steps after the others.

My hands landed on my box the moment the first gasp of shock went up.

That made me jerk upright. I looked away from my box as I pulled off the lid, staring down at the line.

A woman was holding up a pair of sneakers and waving them in the air. “This is all that’s in my box!” Others were pulling off their lids and murmuring as well. No one sounded happy. For that matter, no one sounded like they knew what to do.

Others held up their items - no one had anything but shoes.

I tossed the lid of my yellow box aside. Sure enough, there was a pair of dainty yellow and white sneakers laid neatly inside my box. That was it. I picked them up and shook them out, in case there was a clue of some kind to where the rest of my gear might be hidden.

“I don’t understand,” Kip said. “No one has anything but shoes.”

“That’s right,” Chip boomed from nearby. “For this season of
Endurance Island
, you’ll be playing stripped of every luxury. And that includes clothing.”

“You mean we’ll be playing naked?” Someone screeched further down the line. Probably Leslie.

“That’s right,” Chip said, sounding triumphant. “And as a reminder, the last team to change into their gear will be completely eliminated.”

As in, the last person to strip down to their birthday suit would cause their team to get the axe. If we didn’t want to get naked, they didn’t want us on the show.

In horror, I looked over at Kip. If he wasn’t going to get naked, I sure as shit wasn’t. But Kip pulled his shirt over his head even as I watched, flexing a tanned abdomen.

I should have guessed.

I supposed this was my chance. I could back out without penalty and screw over Kip’s game if I didn’t get naked. This was what I wanted, right? Off the island, prize money in hand, underpants firmly in place?