RIPTIDE | shawmila

one.

There wasn't much to see as they'd be flying straight over the ocean for over an hour, but still, Camila was grateful to have a window seat. She watched the sunlight sparkling over the water for a while, the shimmering feeling a lot like the butterflies in her stomach.

There were other girls on the private plane too, but Camila felt oddly intimidated by them. She would have loved to get to know them, to talk to someone to pass the time since their phones were all trapped in their luggage, but Camila felt too nervous.

It was just that it was quiet, no one was talking to each other and Camila figured it was because they were all already viewing one another as competition, rather than as potential friends. Camila blinked in realization as she realized a way she could look at them without turning around.

She reached into her carry-on bag, fumbling for a makeup compact. She opened it up and carefully angled it so she could slowly pan past, seeing the other seats in the cabin in the reflection of the tiny mirror.

There were four other women chosen alongside her.

Camila could see two of them sitting together in the farthest back row, whispering to one another. Something told Camila they'd already known each other prior. Maybe they were friends before, but they weren't smiling, so maybe they weren't friends now.

She moved the mirror, lifting it slightly to look behind her. A woman was reading one of the informative magazines that'd been in the pocket on the back of every seat. Camila then angled it to see the final girl across the aisle from her.

She was curled up in her seat with a blanket over her legs and a book in her lap. She was smart, Camila realized, to bring something to do on the plane other than sitting tensely and staring at each other. She should have brought a book too, but she mostly read now in the Kindle app, which was on her phone and they'd been told to put their phones with the rest of their luggage in the cargo hold.

The woman turned the page of her book, looking up and locking eyes with Camila through the mirror. Camila gasped and quickly closed her compact, shoving it back down in her bag as an announcement came over the speakers.

"Passengers, please turn your attention to your screens. Our in-flight presentation is about to begin."

Camila took the corded headphones off the headrest in front of her and slipped them on, hearing stock music on a loop before a woman appeared on screen.

"Welcome aboard! If you're here, then you know why. Congratulations!" She laughed. She seemed sort of fake, but Camila found herself smiling, mostly in excitement. "It seems like you were one of only ten participants chosen to compete in Riptide! Now—as we approached our destination, let's start to learn a little about the history of the island. As you may know, Hawaii was formed by volcanoes thousands of years ago—"

This could be interesting, and Camila felt bad for spacing out during the educational part, but her mind began to wander, her gaze trailing back to the window, watching the expanse of blue upon shimmering blue as she thought back through the past two months.

Camila had always wanted one thing—to be famous. Not in a vain way, but simply because she loved to perform. She knew her parents were sort of hoping she'd outgrow it, or maybe let it take a backseat to something more practical, but she never did.

When Camila graduated high school, rather than set off for college, Camila gathered the fund her parents had set aside her for and made her way to California, with plans to make it big. Her parents were rather disappointed, but Camila swore to them that she could do this.

And she did—just slightly. Camila auditioned for a million things, and spent her free time writing her own music in her condo,

But after three and a half years of trying, Camila only had a few credits to her name. She'd been in some photo-shoots, her face now plastered all over a marketing campaign for a makeup line. She'd also had a few bit parts in commercials, with one or two speaking lines.