The Next Big Thing (27 page)

Health reasons?
I stared at Nick as he continued to nurse his cancer stick.

“You know,” I said, “some women develop eating disorders so they can be ‘slim.’”

“Yes, but
fat
people are
never
healthy,” he countered. He took a long, slow drag off his cigarette and blew the smoke out into a perfect O. “There’s quite a difference between being of normal weight and being obese,” he began.

“This is fucking hopeless,” I said, putting down my fork and standing up. I took a few steps and then stopped. “Even if I lost a hundred pounds,
I’d never be thin enough for you, would I?”

He started to say something, but I continued on. “Let’s call this off before I make an even bigger fool out of myself.”

I was primed to make a dramatic exit when Jagger came rushing to the table. “Calm down, Kat!” he whispered, putting his hand on my forearm. I felt a strange, exciting sensation when he touched me, even though I knew he was only egging me on for the good of the show. “Don’t give in. It’s not like you to quit.” His expression was earnest and reassuring. “Can you make it thirty more minutes?”

“
Thirty minutes!” I exclaimed. “This is going way too badly for that.” I was starting to feel like I might burst into tears.

“Don’t do me any favors,” Nick said, stubbing out his cigarette. “I’ll be quite fine sitting here alone. Or, Jagger, you can send out Briana Borrail if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I guess she’s more your type,” I sputtered, grabbing ahold of Jagger to steady myself. The bottle of Merlot I’d downed was taking its toll.

“Briana’s
a real stunner,” Nick agreed. “Even if she is a bit thick.”

“Thick?” I repeated, clinging tightly to Jagger. The girl probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. “You’re joking, right?”

“Thick up here,” he clarified, tapping his head. “The other day she told me they were building a bridge so you could drive between America and Britain. She said this new bridge was going to stretch between California and London.”

“
That wouldn’t even be the right side of the country!” I said, swaying. I looked at Jagger—he’d been strangely quiet, silently observing our exchange.

“Yes, I know.” Nick smirked. “She also wondered how I spoke such brilliant English, seeing how I’m not from
America and all.”

“No!” I exclaimed.

“Yes! Briana thinks everyone outside of the States speaks French or Spanish.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Part of me wanted to laugh; the other part felt bad he was making fun of her.

“Hey, don’t look so down, Kat. I was only messing about with you earlier,” Nick said suddenly, tilting his head and looking into my eyes. “Sit back down; let’s finish out our meal.”

“Well, I guess I could.”

“I won’t bite. Promise.” He winked.

Jagger steered me back to the table and deposited me in my seat. “I’ll have dessert out as soon as you guys finish the steak tips. Enjoy yourselves,” he said, slowly backing away.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” I blurted out.

Nick sighed and set down his fork. “You really want to know?”

“It’s a logical question.”

“
Yes, I suppose it is. I’m not in the mood to answer it, that’s all.” He paused for a moment. “Although now’s as good a time as any to do this.”

“
So what is it?” I asked nervously.
Please don’t let this be what I think it is.

“It’s been very difficult these past few weeks, ever since I found out you weren’t who you’d claimed to be,” he explained. “I needed some time to sort through my feelings and decide how I wanted to proceed.” He gave me a halfhearted smile.

I drew in a breath. “And have you figured anything out?”

“You have to understand something, Kat. I’ve spent my life looking for the right woman.
I’ve searched high and low, the whole world over. I’ve dated so many people…and perception has always escaped me. No matter how hard I try to find it.”

“That’s because nobody’s perfect,” I mumbled. There was a lump forming in the pit of my stomach. I could feel where this was going.

“Yes,” Nick said. “I see that now. But with you I thought I’d
finally
found it: the perfect girl who had the perfect mix of all the qualities I’ve always wanted. But I was naïve to believe you were being honest.” Nick sighed. “And so I blame us both for this.”

I was starting to feel sick.

“You’re a sweet girl, Kat, and you’ll likely make some other man very happy one day.”
Some other man.
Focusing on the ground, I asked, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I’m afraid so.” He laid his hand on top of mine. I jerked it away. “Please don’t be upset. This isn’t easy for me, either. I’ve invested a considerable amount of time in this as well.”

I couldn’t speak. Nothing I could say would sound right or appropriate. I fingered my lapel mic and averted my eyes from his gaze.

“But you said you loved me,” I finally whispered.

“I loved a person who doesn’t exist.” He paused. “You were never who I thought you were, Kat. I look in your eyes and I see a stranger. And not one I’m interested in getting to know better, I’m afraid.”

I sucked in a breath, stunned by the sharpness of his words.

“It was a silly thing to do, getting involved over the Internet,” he continued. “What can I say? I was bored one night at work and I just stumbled upon you. I thought it had to be fate. You offered the rare promise of something different.”

“I never meant to lie.” Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. “It was stupid and I got carried away. I just wanted you to like me. We had so much in common . . .”

As I spoke, my mind starting sifting through the evidence. Nick and I didn’t like the same music or food. I knew virtually nothing about his family. We’d never discussed our goals or dreams, our feelings about life.

He was obsessed with brand names; I’d happily shop at the Gap if their stuff fit. Where were all these traits we’d supposedly shared? “

If your body matched your personality you’d have men queuing up for miles,” he said softly. Seeing my stricken expression, he added, “I mean that as a compliment.”

“So we’re breaking up.” Sour traces of stomach acid rose to my mouth. I swallowed hard, forcing it back down.

“I hope we can be friends,” he offered, sounding less than genuine.

“Sure, we could do that,” I said. “It might be fun.”
Fun like PMS. Fun like a hangover.

“I’d like to remain on favorable terms, considering we’re going to be living together for the next month or so.”

“Yes, considering,” I repeated, my voice flat. So Regan had been right—Nick and the other guests would be staying with us until the end of the show.

“There’s something I want to ask you,” I said flatly.
There was still one thing that made no sense. “Why did you kiss me the night of the live show?”

“It’s a bit unusual, really,” he began. “Firstly, I did it because I needed to know how I felt. I wanted to kiss you, Kat. Don’t doubt that.”

I smiled. “And how did it feel?”

“Awkward. Strange.”

Strange?
That didn’t sound promising.

“And I did it for the game.”

“Game?”

“‘Weight of the World’ or something. I can’t remember the exact title.”

He’d lost me. “What did
that
have to do with anything?”

“Zaidee showed me the previous episodes and I knew if we kissed you’d win seventy-five thousand dollars. Nobody asked me to do it; I wanted to help.”

Nick
was my blind date? It was too stupid, too ironic to be true. But the timing didn’t add up.

“How could you have been my blind date? That was supposed to happen weeks ago.”

Nick ran his fingers through his hair. “What does it matter?”

“It matters.” I strained to collect my thoughts. “Because, it doesn’t add up.”

“I’m not entirely certain, but I believe the plan was for some ex-boyfriend of yours to come on the show. Then when Zaidee found out about me she switched things at the last minute.”

It
still didn’t make sense. “But . . . when were you supposed to be here?”

“I was slated to come back in June, but I wasn’t able to take off work until now. Deadlines.”

“Have you been watching me all this time?” I wailed, beating my hands against my face. “Zaidee swore
From Fat to Fabulous
wouldn’t air in England!”

“It doesn’t. Kat, what are you going on about?”

And then I asked it. The one question I should have asked him right from the start. “How did you find out I was on a reality show?”

Nick stabbed a piece of steak with his fork, swirled it around in pesto sauce, and then placed it in his mouth. He chewed for a minute, then swallowed. “Your
best mate Donna told me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked unsteadily.

Nick took another bite of steak and slowly savored it. “You sure you want to hear this?”

“Yes,” I said, quivering. I felt sober, awake.

“You had that girl sending me those ridiculous e-mails, pretending to be you. Which wasn’t very convincing, by the way. Then one day she wrote the truth, confessing that you weighed fourteen stone.” He paused, then clarified, “Two hundred pounds.”

“You’re lying,” I said indignantly. “Donna wouldn’t
do that.”

“Apparently she would.” He turned to face the cameras, and announced dramatically, “Ask Zaidee if you don’t believe me. She’ll tell you the exact same thing.”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“Why would Donna do that? For God’s sake, she
wouldn’t
! We’ve been best friends for almost five years. She has a key to my apartment! We trust each other with everything!”

Nick looked visibly annoyed. “Who know
s, but she did what she did. I am not lying.”

I felt the weight of it sinking down around me. In all our years of friendship, I’d never once done anything to intentionally hurt Donna. And here she’d plunged a knife into my back!

All those years of me being in the background and Donna being the beautiful, stunning star . . . maybe that was the way she wanted it? I had never one-upped Donna, not with anything. Now here it was, my chance to be in the limelight, and Donna couldn’t stand it.

I remembered our conversation that night at On the Border, the way she’d chided me, insisting Nick was a major catch.
Insisting—in a roundabout way—that he was too good for me.
And now, given the chance, she’d blown my cover, plunging me into the worst experience I could imagine. Waves of nausea washed over me.

“I can’t deal with this now,” I said, rising. My stomach surged and I dashed into the house, bumping past the cameramen. The scenery spun and the ground seemed to tilt beneath my feet.

I barely made it to the living room before I bent forward and pitched the contents of my gourmet dinner onto the floor. The thick yellow liquid gathered in a pool, seeping down into the carpet. Without making a move to wipe up the mess, I stumbled past, seeking solace in the nearest bathroom. Nightmarish events aside, there was one bright spot.

At least I hadn’t puked all over his Prada loafers.

22

Chapter Twenty-Two

I was a mess. My hair had fallen in a tangle around my shoulders. My face was red and puffy, stained with streaks of mascara. I sat sprawled out on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, wailing.

“You okay?” Jagger called, knocking lightly on the door.

“I’m fine,” I sobbed. Which, of course, I wasn’t.

“Do you want to talk about it, or do you need some time alone?” he asked.

I didn’t really want to talk, but I didn’t want to be alone, either. “You can stay,” I gulped, sniffling. I leaned forward and opened the door. He walked inside and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

“Anything I can do?”

“No.” I started crying again.

Jagger produced a small packet of Kleenex from an inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to me.

I noisily blew my nose.

“It’ll get better,” he said. “Hey, I’ve got some good news for you. Because of your kiss with Nick, you guys won Weight of the World on Your Shoulders. I’m making the official announcement tomorrow morning after breakfast. But Zaidee said I could tell you tonight. She thought it might cheer you up.”

I was beyond cheering up at this point.

“You know what’s so ironic?” I said, laughing bitterly. “I never even figured out if we were officially dating. I feel like I fabricated the whole thing in my mind. Is it possible I wasted almost six months of my life on a relationship that didn’t truly exist?”

“Of course it existed. Nick’s a living, breathing human being.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s the problem.”

Jagger raised an eyebrow. “What, you usually prefer guys without a pulse?”

In spite of my foul mood I smiled. “Not exactly. What I meant was, while Nick was in
England everything was easy and safe. He could be my dream guy.”

“And you could be his dream girl?”

“Exactly,” I said. “How fucked-up is that? Am I so much of a freak that I can’t handle a real relationship?” I wiped my nose on a tissue, disgusted. “What’s next, a pen pal affair with a prisoner?”

“
I hear Zaidee’s doing a show about that,” Jagger quipped.

I shot him a look.

“Sorry, bad timing,” he apologized. “I was just trying to cheer you up. You’re being awfully hard on yourself.”

“
How can I not be? At least Nick had the guts to be himself online. I’m the insecure, miserable mess of a person who faked everything. I’m the one who said I had a perfect body when what I actually have is…” I gestured at my stomach, “this.”

Jagger shrugged. “It wasn’t
all
fake, was it? From what I understand, you lied about your weight, but you more or less told the truth about yourself otherwise. So Nick got to know the
real
you, he just didn’t have the right overall picture.”

“That doesn’t make it any better. I’m still a liar. He has every right to hate me.”

Jagger paused, then took off his mic. “Kat, there’s something you should know. Your boy Nick’s not as—how should I put this? He’s not as
pure
as he seems.”

I stared at him in confusion. He was allowed to take his mic off? “Nick agreed to this dinner because it served his purposes; he didn’t give a damn about talking to you. He was all set to snub you for the rest of the show. He acts like he’s some kind of
honest, good-hearted gentleman, but from what I’ve seen that’s not the case. Dude’s got an agenda.”

An agenda?
“What kind of agenda?” I asked, swallowing.

“He told you himself during dinner,” Jagger said, giving me a pointed look.

“He’s doing this to get Briana’s attention?”

“Think bigger.”

“Regan?”

Jagger laughed, then said, “I’m serious. Just replay tonight’s conversation in your head. You’ll figure it out.”

He put his mic back on and left before I could drill him for more information.  

***

In the morning, Nick’s claims about Donna seemed downright ridiculous. Especially on the heels of Jagger’s revelation that Nick had an “agenda.” Besides, there was no way Donna would sell me out like that, no way at all. Nick had probably Googled my name and found one of the articles about me. I don’t know how I’d been so stupid as to think that wouldn’t happen. Just because Nick and I always swore we never Googled each other, didn’t mean it was true. (It certainly hadn’t been true on my end.) It had been months since I’d been near a computer, but I was sure my name and image was all over it.

No one had told him about me coming on the show; he’d found it out himself. I couldn’t believe I’d let him trick me into thinking Donna would betray me like that.
I’d let my paranoia, an unfavorable trait—which had taken center stage since I’d come on
From Fat to Fabulous
—completely take over.

As soon as I felt stable enough to stand up and walk without falling down, I’d head into the Confession Chamber and demand Zaidee tell me the truth. The
real
truth.

As it stood I had a big day ahead of me. The producers were giving us an exciting and rare privilege: a phone call to our parents. They’d been hinting for a few days that the “infrastructure of the game” was changing. Lo and behold, we were now going to be allowed “routine, but limited” contact with the outside world via weekly five-minute phone calls. I didn’t care how brief or monitored they were—I was dying to talk to anyone. This week we were allowed to speak with our immediate family.

A few hours later I made my way downstairs and devoured a handful of saltine crackers and a ginger ale before heading into the Confession Chamber.

I was eager for things to return to normal. Or as normal as they could be on a reality show.

Nick was back to avoiding me. Regan told me he hadn’t come out of his room all morning. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what had happened to the sweet, impeccably mannered, intelligent man I’d known online and over the phone. Was I really so vile that I brought out the worst in him?

“How are you today, Kat?” Zaidee asked, as I sat down in the Confession Chamber’s plush red chair.

“Well, I got dumped last night. How do you think I am?”

“
Could you elaborate, please,” Zaidee said.

“I feel like crap.”

“Define crap.”

“I don’t think it needs a definition,” I snapped.

“It might be helpful. There are degrees of crappiness, you know.”

I rolled my eyes. “There’s something else I’d rather address. Nick told me a story last night that pretty much amounts to a bold-faced lie.” I let out a low, harsh laugh. “Not that I put any stock in what he says, but just to be extra sure, can you clear something up for me?”

“I’ll try.”

“He swears my friend Donna told him about
From Fat to Fabulous,
but I know that’s not the case. I know he Googled me and found out about the show and then he gave you a call and that’s how he wound up here. I just wanted you to know that he’s a liar.” I announced this as though it were some great discovery.

“Kat, doll, I hate to tell you,
but Nick’s right.”

“
No,” I said, shaking my head. “That isn’t true.”

“
Kat, it is true. Donna did in fact give him the news. I spoke with her myself not too long afterward.”

I could feel the ginger ale rising in my throat, as a fresh wave of nausea swept over me.
“Donna’s my
friend
. She’s not like that. She wouldn’t have told him. I mean, why
would
she tell him?
Why?
” I asked, looking where I knew the camera was, as though I were speaking to her directly. “Why would you do that to me? I was crying now. “Didn’t I mean anything to you? Didn’t you value even
one thing
about our friendship? One thing at all?”

“Go on, Kat; it helps to talk.”

“No,” I said, rising from the chair. “I have nothing to say to anybody. You people can go to hell!” I announced, storming out the door, without even waiting to get the phone call to my parents.

I was turning into a first-rate drama queen.

I was Kat the fucking Brat.

***

 
Later that day, after a long nap, and a longer time just lying on my bed thinking, I decided it was time to make a change. Throwing out sarcastic comments was a part of my personality, and I couldn’t turn that off. But I could sure as hell do something about my slide into immaturity. And I’d better do it quickly.

I started with Jagger. He was outside by the pool, interviewing Maggie about her lack of
weight loss progress. I waited patiently by the back door until they’d finished.

When the interview ended, I waved.

Jagger smiled, unclipped his mic, and came strolling over. “Feeling better today?”

“I’m good, yeah,” I said, making a deliberate effort to be positive. I was determined to put last night’s embarrassing dinner behind me and start clean.

Maggie came pushing past us, stalking into the house.

“She okay?” I asked.

“This is about a lifestyle change,” Jagger said, “and Maggie’s trying to come to terms with that. She wants a quick fix.”

“Nobody calls it a diet anymore, they call it a lifestyle change. Like that somehow makes it easier, more exciting, less likely to fail.”

He laughed good-naturedly. “You may have a point there.”

“So, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes?” I asked.

He looked at his watch. “I’ve got a production meeting in five.”

“Oh, I’m fast
.”

Jagger cocked an eyebrow. “
Are you now?”

“Yes! Well, no. I mean, sometimes.” We were off to a weird start. His coy comment had thrown me.

“What’d you need to talk about, Kat?” He steered me back on topic.

“I wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been acting lately. I’ve been a real pain to be around. Very moody and argumentative. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re fine,” Jagger said.

“This whole Nick situation is really messing with me. Earlier today I blew off the phone call with my parents.”

“I heard about that. Any particular reason?”

“
I got dumped and stabbed in the back,” I said. I squinted against the bright sun. “My mother probably thinks I hate her now, though.”

“Given the cir
cumstances she’ll understand.”

“
You don’t know my mother,” I said. “She takes everything personally.”

“So call her now.”

“You say that like I can just pick up a phone and dial.”

“No, of course you can’t. But go up to the Confession Chamber and ask Zaidee if she’ll let you,” Jagger suggested.

I shook my head. “She’d never agree; I’m not that lucky.”

“Just ask her. Zaidee can be abrupt, but she’s not evil.”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

Jagger tilted his head and looked in my eyes. “Look, don’t let Nick Appleby ruin this experience for you. There’ll be plenty of time to sort through your personal relationships once the show wraps. But you can’t do anything about them now, so why stress yourself out? This is your fifteen minutes; have fun with it.”

Maybe he was right. It was worth a shot. “Thanks for that. I needed it.”

“Anytime,” he said, heading into the house.

True to Jagger’s prediction, Zaidee allowed me to phone home. “We’ve got your mother, Lynne Larson, on the phone. Go ahead and pick up, Kat.”

I grabbed the receiver.

“Kat!” my mom shrieked. “Thank God! We’ve been worried sick about you. Your father’s gone to the doctor’s, so he can’t talk,” she rushed on. “But, rest assured, he’s not on his deathbed. Much as that must disappoint you.”

“
What?
”

“It’s very disrespectful,” she told me sternly, “going around saying your father’s dying of a rare disease. Do you hate us that much, Kat? Is that what you’re wishing for?”

Oh,
God.
My mind flashed back to the conversation I’d had with Nick, “I have to go away to Denver for a few weeks . . . maybe more. My father’s not well,” I’d told him.

“Your father was devastated when he found out,” she said.

“How
did
he find out?” I asked, envisioning the headline: KAT THE BRAT FAKES TERMINAL ILLNESS. Maybe Donna had blabbed about that, too?

“Nicholas called,” she said. “He tracked down our number and called to offer his condolences. Poor boy was worried to death. And you,” she scolded, “you care so little about your parents that you go around telling people we’re dying.”

“Mom, I swear I didn’t mean it that way!”