An Unlikely Reunion

Four

It wasn't long until we were all going to bed -- everyone with their respective partner, whom they've only known for half a day. I couldn't help feeling uncomfortable, knowing I would sleep in a bed with a stranger. Martin and I'd got along, sure, but it wasn't like we really knew each other. I didn't have much of a choice, though, so I got into bed, Martin following suit. I made sure to keep a little distance between us and he didn't seem to mind. Around us, I heard people whisper their good nights after the lights went off.

"Good night then, I suppose," I whispered to Martin.

"Good night, Claire."

I didn't get nearly as much sleep as I'd hoped I would. We were woken up relatively early in the morning and I felt like I'd died and come back as a zombie. Martin groaned next to me. "Can't we get one more hour of sleep?"

Clearly, he didn't like mornings, either. Maybe we'd actually make a good couple and walk away with the  £50,000. Yeah, as if that was ever going to happen.

Before either of us could even get up, Mr Chev -- goddamit, his name was Ian! -- walked past our bed. "Still not a morning person, are you?" he said cheerily. How could this ass be so happy this early in the morning?

"Fuck off, Ian," the dude in the bed next to ours -- Lucas, I believed -- said and hid under the covers.

Eventually, everyone had managed to get out of bed, and soon enough I was getting ready for breakfast in the bathroom with the other girls.

"So how was the night for the lot of ya?" Kylie asked. She seemed more awake than the rest of us.

"Nikolai snores," Liza said as she put mascara on.

"Yeah, we heard," Kylie chuckled.

Liza continued, "Other than that, he was really sweet, though."

"So you think you'll stay with him? Isn't he a bit young for you?" Jennifer asked.

"He's actually not as young as he looks. He's 24, so that's only a three-year-difference."

"I thought I saw you flirting with that Ian guy," I said as casually as I could while brushing my hair.

Suddenly, everyone looked at me, and I realised I hadn't really said more than a few sentences since we all arrived here.

"Wow, you can actually talk?" Anastasia asked, an eyebrow raised.

I bit my lip. "Duh. I just had to get a bit more comfortable around here. This is a weird situation, you know?"

Jennifer put a hand on my shoulder. "No worries, girl. We all know that. I was so bloody nervous before coming here."

Within a few seconds, we were all talking about how strange all of this was. And this time, 'we were all talking'  included me as well. I'd already noticed that none of them seemed like complete assholes yesterday, but now I actually felt like we were kind of bonding. I supposed we'd need to in here. After all, some of the boys really seemed like players.

After we all looked decent -- scratch that, most of them looked absolutely gorgeous -- we made our way outside to have breakfast in the morning sun with everyone.

The guys were already sitting at a huge table that was set up on a patio. Martin waved at me and patted on the place right next to him. I noticed it was the place the farthest away from M-- Ian.

"You didn't have to put on makeup for me," Martin said as I took my seat next to him.

I laughed. "No, but there are cameras everywhere and if I'm going to be on TV, I'm not gonna look like shit."

"Fair enough," he said, though shaking his head.

"I could tell you you didn't have to do your hair," I said, shrugging, and put some fruit on my plate.

He crossed his arms. "That's different."

"Is it? Is it really?" Jennifer, who sat right across from me, asked.

Her boy, Lucas, jumped in, "Yeah, that's essential. It takes like five minutes."

"Ten. Those two spent ten minutes to get their hair just right," Thomas, whose hair was extremely short and didn't look like it needed as much attention, interrupted. "We all just want to look good for the camera."

"Well, the girls take more than half an hour to do their makeup so my point stands," Lucas shrugged.

I noticed Mr-- Ian watching us as the conversation unfolded. I knew exactly what he would've said, had he been close enough.

He would have had a completely different stance. He's have said neither hair nor makeup needed to be done. I knew he preferred when people wore no or minimal makeup because it meant he could read their faces more easily. And as for hair, he never understood why men were so obsessed with it because it made hardly any difference most of the time. I was inclined to agree. His hair was only slightly shorter than Martin's and even without doing, it always looked just right.

Goddamit, here I was again, thinking about shit I was meant to forget.