Reality Check

22. Two Birds, One Altercation

The first thing out of Max's mouth when we wake up is, "Let's leave."

I swear, he's the king of providing zero context for his statements.

"Do you mean the bed, my room, the villa, or the show?" I ask. I'm sick of responding to all his vague comments with "what?" like a dumbass. The least I can do is demonstrate that I sort of comprehend what he says.

"Enlisted."

I'm actually really, really, really tempted. "And do what? Don't say go to Amsterdam. I'm poor."

"The job offer still stands."

"You can't just offer me a job because I'm..." I trail off. I don't know what I am. Regardless, I don't want a pity job from the guy I'm sleeping with. I'd choose bunkbeds and loneliness over whoring myself out, even if it is in sort of a relationship.

"My girlfriend," Max supplies.

I raise my brows. "Am I your girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

"Don't I usually have to say yes to that?"

"Usually."

"Max, you can't keep speaking for me," I sigh.

"Mia Benson, will you be my girlfriend?"

I can't help it. I blush. I'd slap myself, but that would just turn my cheeks redder. "Yes."

He smirks. "Told you."

"Alright, boyfriend, settle down. Now that we're together, I need to break things off with Elijah." What a weird situation I've landed myself in. This sort of thing only happens on reality TV, I suppose.

"Is that necessary?"

"It's the right thing to do. Besides, you agreed to later last night," I point out.

"Alright, do your thing."

"Thank you for granting permission."

"You're welcome. Ready?"

With a sigh, I fish shorts and a tee out of the dresser—just when I finally unpack, I'm about to leave, typical Mia—and attempt to tame my sex hair via braid, a semi-effective endeavor.

"Ready," I sigh. I'm lying. I'm not ready. "Let's grab breakfast first."

As unready as I am, I'm not procrastinating. Ask anyone who takes ADHD medication. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Some prescriptions mess with your appetite, so you might not feel hungry again until it wears off. For extended release peeps such as myself, that means there's a solid chance I forget to eat until dinner. I pretty much have to get food in my system pre-medication.

Today's a two-birds-one-stone situation. Max and I stroll down the stairs, bickering about whether we've been a couple since last night (his opinion) or this morning (my opinion) and come face-to-face with Elijah, Levi, and Maddie. Elijah stares. His jaw doesn't drop the way mine always does, but his lips do part slightly. A nearby camera guy seizes the chance and jumps—literally jumps—into position to catch our interaction. Sweet, perfect man Elijah Miller versus Enlisted two-timing hoe-bag Mia Benson.

If I ever was a fan favorite, I'm not anymore.

"Hey. I, uh, wanted to talk to you," I say quite uncomfortably.

"I think this says enough," Elijah replies coldly. "If you change your mind again, you can go home, Mia. Don't come back to me. I'm done."

I expect him to storm away, but he doesn't. He stands there, waiting for my response.