The trail up to the cliff started deceptively easy — a gentle incline through trees that provided shade and the illusion that this wouldn't be terrible. That illusion lasted approximately five minutes before the path turned steep, rocky, and actively hostile to human ankles.
"This is gonna be awesome!" Owen announced from somewhere ahead, his enthusiasm undimmed by exertion, sweat, or common sense.
I was trying very hard to focus on the trail. On my footing. On literally anything except the fact that I was currently surrounded by girls in swimwear.
This is fine. This is completely normal. You're sixteen. This is expected. Just don't be weird about it.
Except my body had very different ideas about what constituted "not being weird."
Katie was a few steps ahead of me, and I made the critical mistake of looking up at exactly the wrong moment. The way she moved, the curve of her—
No. Stop. Think about something else. Anything else.
Math. I could think about math. Pythagorean theorem. The quadratic formula. Anything with numbers that didn't involve measurements of—
STOP.
"Noah?" Katie's voice cut through my internal crisis. She'd turned around, concern on her face. "You okay? You look kinda red."
Because I'm dying. I'm literally dying of embarrassment and hormones.
"Fine," I managed, voice slightly strained. "Just... hot. The sun. Very sunny today."
"We're in the shade," she pointed out, tilting her head.
Of course we are.
"Deceptively warm shade," I said, desperately looking anywhere but at her. "Microclimate. It's a thing."
She didn't look convinced but smiled anyway. "Well, stay hydrated!" Then she turned and continued up the trail.
I took a deep breath and tried to recenter myself.
You prepared for challenges. For strategy. For survival. You did NOT prepare for puberty hitting you like a freight train the moment you're surrounded by attractive people in minimal clothing.
"Hey, Nigel!" Lindsay's voice, bright and cheerful, came from my left.
I turned, and immediately regretted it.
She was stretching — completely innocently, just working out a kink in her shoulder — but the motion made her swimsuit shift in ways that my brain absolutely did not need to process right now.
"Do you think the water's cold? I hope it's not too cold! Cold water makes my skin all weird!"
"Uh-huh," I said, eyes fixed firmly on a tree somewhere past her shoulder. "Very... water. Yes."
Confessional - Noah:"I'd like to formally apologize to my past self for thinking the psychological challenges would be the hardest part of this experience. Turns out the real challenge is being a teenage boy surrounded by—" He stops, running a hand through his hair. "Let's just say I have a newfound appreciation for the phrase 'puberty is hell' and leave it at that."
The trail continued upward, and I tried to maintain a strategic position — not too close to anyone, eyes firmly on the ground, thinking about the least attractive things possible.
Chef's cooking. That worked. The gray, gelatinous substance that might have been alive. The smell of the outhouse. Chris McLean's smile.
Better. This is better. I can do this.
Then Katie tripped on a root.
I reacted on instinct, catching her before she could fall. For one horrible moment, I was very aware of exactly where my hands were, how close we were standing, how she looked at me with those grateful eyes—
"Thanks!" she said breathlessly. "I'm so clumsy on trails."
"No problem," I said, releasing her maybe a bit too quickly and taking a deliberate step back. "Just... watch your footing."
She nodded and continued on, and I stood there trying to will my body to behave like a rational human being and not a hormone-addled disaster.
Think about the challenge. Focus on whatever Chris has planned. That should be terrifying enough to override everything else.
It wasn't working.
Ahead of me, Lindsay bent down to retie her shoe, and my brain just completely short-circuited. I closed my eyes, counted to ten in three different languages, and tried to remember why I thought this summer was a good idea.
This is fine. Everything is fine. Just keep walking. Don't look at anyone. Survive the next hour.
I made the mistake of glancing to my side.
Izzy was skipping. Not walking. Skipping. With that manic energy that seemed to be her default setting, bouncing along the trail like gravity was optional.
And the motion caused... movement. The kind of movement that teenage boys absolutely should not notice but absolutely cannot help noticing.
I snapped my gaze away so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash, staring determinedly at a rock formation to my left.
She's insane. She's completely insane and you need to never look in her direction again. Ever.
Confessional - Izzy:Grinning maniacally at the camera. "Oh, I TOTALLY knew what I was doing! Boys are SO predictable!" She leans in conspiratorially. "You time the skips just right, and their brains just SHORT CIRCUIT! It's HILARIOUS!" Maniacal laughter. "Poor Noah looked like he was going to EXPLODE! BAHAHAHA!"
I forced myself to focus on literally anything else. Trees. Rocks. The mathematical probability of surviving whatever Chris had planned.
But then Katie laughed at something Trent said, tossing her hair back, and the sunlight caught on water droplets still clinging to her skin from the earlier pier incident, and—
No no no no no—
I could feel it happening. The physical response I'd been desperately trying to avoid. In swimwear. In public. On camera.
This is NOT happening. Think about something else. ANYTHING else.
Chris McLean's face. Chef's cooking. Dead puppies. Math. MATH. Complex mathematical equations that require all of my concentration—
"WHOA! Guys, look!"
Harold's voice cut through my panic like a lifeline from heaven.
Everyone stopped and turned to where Harold was pointing up at the sky, his face lit up with genuine excitement.
"Is that a peregrine falcon?! I think that's a peregrine falcon! They're the fastest birds in the world — they can dive at speeds up to 240 miles per hour! Did you know they use specialized respiratory systems to breathe at high velocities? It's fascinating!"
The entire group's attention shifted skyward, squinting into the sun, trying to see whatever Harold was so excited about.
I used the distraction to adjust my position, turn slightly away, and think very aggressively about every unsexy thing I could imagine until the crisis passed.
Harold, I could kiss you right now. Platonically. With deep gratitude and respect.
Confessional - Harold:"I really did see a falcon! Or at least, I think I did. Hard to tell from that distance. But I also noticed Noah looked like he was having some kind of... crisis? And I figured pointing at birds would help distract everyone. Multi-tasking!"
The group started moving again, conversation shifting to Harold's bird facts. I stayed toward the back, using the moment to compose myself.
You're fine. Crisis averted. Just... don't look at anyone for the rest of the hike. Easy.
Except nothing about this was easy.
I caught Courtney's eye as the group reformed. She was looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite read — not judgmental, not mocking. Just... knowing. And maybe a little sympathetic.
She didn't say anything. Just gave me the smallest nod and turned back to the trail.
She noticed, I realized with a mix of horror and gratitude. She knows exactly what just happened and she's not saying anything.
The cafeteria conversation had bought me more than just goodwill. It had bought me discretion.
Confessional - Courtney:"Look, I'm not oblivious. We're all teenagers in swimwear on a hot day. It's... it's not surprising that some people might be having a harder time than others." She adjusts her clipboard primly. "Noah helped me earlier when he didn't have to. The least I can do is not draw attention to something that's probably already mortifying enough."
I took a deep breath and continued climbing, more careful now about where I let my gaze wander.
The trail wound higher, the trees thinning as we approached whatever fresh hell Chris had planned. I could hear different conversations floating back—
"—totally gonna nail this—"
"—I don't know, sounds scary—"
"—at least it's better than Chef's food—"
And then, quieter, I heard Eva's voice from up ahead where the Killer Bass had clustered together.
"Stop sniffling. She's fine."
I couldn't see who she was talking to, but the aggressive encouragement was unmistakable.
"But Katie and I have never been apart—"
"SO WHAT?" Eva's voice was sharp but not cruel. "She's on the other team, not on another planet. You'll see her every day. Stop acting like someone died."
A pause, then Sadie's trembling voice: "You really think I can do this without her?"
"You're DOING it right now. You're walking. You're talking. You haven't exploded. You're fine." Eva's tone softened slightly. "And if you're not fine, you fake it until you are. That's how it works."
Confessional - Eva:"Sadie's weak. Emotionally weak. But physical weakness you can fix with training. Emotional weakness? That takes guts. She wants to cry about being separated from her friend? Fine. But she better cry while moving forward, not while giving up."
Confessional - Sadie:"Eva's... really intense. Like, scary intense. But she hasn't left me alone since teams got announced, and I think maybe that's her way of helping? It's terrifying but also kind of... nice?"
I filed that away as interesting. Eva supporting Sadie in her own aggressive way wasn't something I'd expected, but it made sense. Eva respected strength, and sometimes strength meant not giving up even when you wanted to.
Katie had slowed down to walk beside me, and I very carefully kept my eyes on the trail ahead.
"You doing okay?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral. "I know being separated from Sadie is hard."
She was quiet for a long moment, longer than I expected. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft. "Yeah. It's... it's really weird. We've been friends since we were six. That's ten years of never doing anything apart."
"That's a long time."
"The longest," she agreed. "We met on the first day of first grade. I was crying because I didn't know anyone, and Sadie just walked up and said 'Don't cry! We can be scared together!' And we have been. Together. For everything."
I glanced at her carefully — eyes on her face, just her face. "That sounds really special."
"It is. It was." She bit her lip. "I don't even know how to be just Katie anymore, you know? Like, I'm always Katie-and-Sadie. It's one word. One person, almost."
"But you're not one person," I said gently. "You're two people who care about each other. That's different."
"Is it?" She looked at me, genuine confusion in her eyes. "Because sometimes I can't tell where I end and she begins. Like, I don't know if I like things because I like them, or because Sadie likes them and I just went along with it."
That hit deeper than I expected. "What do you think you like? Just you?"
She was quiet again, thinking. "I... I like building things. Taking things apart and figuring out how they work. My dad's a mechanic, and when I was little, I'd spend hours in his shop just watching him fix engines and stuff." Her voice got a little stronger. "Sadie thinks it's boring. She'd rather do crafts or baking or... people things. But I really love the mechanical stuff. The problem-solving."
"That's not boring. That's engineering."
She smiled slightly. "Yeah. Maybe. I've thought about studying that. After high school. But Sadie wants to go to culinary school, and I always just assumed we'd go to the same place, so..."
"So you'd give up engineering to stay together?"
"I... I don't know." The admission seemed to cost her something. "Is that bad? That I don't know?"
"No," I said honestly. "It's human. Choosing between something you love and someone you love is one of the hardest things there is. But..." I paused, choosing words carefully. "Maybe this summer is a chance to figure out what you'd choose. Not because you have to choose now, but because knowing what you'd choose helps you understand who you are."
She looked at me for a long moment. "You're really smart, you know that?"
"I read a lot. There's a difference."
"No," she said firmly. "There's being smart about facts, and there's being smart about people. You're both." She smiled, more genuine now. "Thanks for not making this seem stupid. For not making me seem stupid."
"You're not stupid, Katie. You're just figuring things out. We all are."
Confessional - Katie:"Talking to Noah made me realize something. I've spent ten years being half of something. And I don't even know what the whole me looks like yet. That's... that's kind of scary. But also kind of exciting? Maybe by the end of summer, I'll know who Katie is. Just Katie. Not Katie-and-Sadie. Just... me."
The trail finally leveled out, opening into a clearing at the top of the cliff. And there it was — the drop.
From up here, it looked impossibly high. The lake stretched out below, dark and cold and dotted with what might have been sharks or might have been logs. Hard to tell from this height.
Chris stood at the edge, megaphone in hand, grin firmly in place like he'd been waiting his entire life for this moment.
"WELCOME, campers, to your first official challenge!" He spread his arms wide, clearly in his element. "Before you lies a THREE HUNDRED METER drop to the lake below!"
I couldn't help it. The words were out before I could stop them.
"Twenty to twenty-five meters. At most."
Chris's grin faltered for just a second. "What?"
"The cliff." I gestured at it casually. "It's maybe twenty to twenty-five meters high. Seventy-five feet, give or take. Definitely not three hundred meters. That would be nearly a thousand feet. We'd hit terminal velocity and die on impact."
Several people turned to stare at me. Chris looked briefly annoyed before recovering his showman smile.
"Well, aren't you just a walking encyclopedia! Fine, TWENTY-FIVE METERS! Still super high! Still super scary!"
Confessional - Chris:"Okay, FIRST of all, it's called DRAMATIC EFFECT. Second, who fact-checks the host? Third, I'm definitely keeping an eye on this kid. Smart-alecks make good TV."
Chris pointed down at the water with dramatic flair. "Below this gorgeous cliff, we have two zones! The safe zone—" he indicated a small marked area of water with buoys "—and EVERYWHERE ELSE! Which is full of sharks! Hungry, bitey, ethically sourced sharks."!"
A collective murmur of fear rippled through the group.
"Did he say sharks?!" Leshawna shouted, eyes wide.
"Ethically sourced," Chris repeated, "which means they've only eaten a few interns this season."
Everyone faces gotten pale. Even mine did. I 'was really hoping that Chris was not serious about interns. He couldn't, right? This was real life - not cartoon. People dying would be serious issue for show. Right?
Chris continued cheerfully. "Here's how this works: Each team member who jumps earns their team an advantage in part two of the challenge! The more jumpers, the better your advantage! Don't jump? You wear the Chicken Hat! Now, who's feeling brave? Killer Bass, you're up first!"
Jumps - Killer Bass
The Bass team clustered together, everyone looking at the cliff edge like it might bite them.
"I'll go!" Bridgette volunteered, stepping forward with the confidence of someone who'd spent years reading waves. She took a breath, ran, and launched herself off the edge with surprising grace.
A few seconds of freefall, then splash. She surfaced in the safe zone, pumping her fist.
"See?! Not that bad!" she called up.
"YEAH! That's how it's done!" Geoff whooped, immediately following. His form was less graceful — more enthusiastic flailing — but he hit the safe zone and came up laughing.
Eva didn't hesitate. She walked to the edge, looked down with something between contempt and determination, and jumped with zero ceremony. Safe zone. Of course.
"Harold!" I called out, keeping my voice casual but loud enough to carry. "You know a lot about diving, right? I'm kind of nervous about the form."
Harold's face lit up with surprise and pride. "Oh! Yeah! I've studied proper diving technique extensively!"
"Could you maybe... show me? Before we jump? I learn better visually."
Several people turned to look, including Heather, who rolled her eyes.
Confessional - Heather:"Noah asking Harold for help? Please. He's clearly just trying to look considerate. Though I suppose it's smarter than Tyler's approach of 'jump first, think never.'"
"Sure!" Harold was practically glowing now. "So you want to keep your body straight, arms extended above your head, hands together to break the surface tension. Chin tucked slightly, core engaged—"
"Can you demonstrate the position?" I interrupted gently. "I want to make sure I've got it right."
Harold demonstrated, standing straight with perfect form. "Like this! And you maintain this position throughout the fall. The key is not panicking mid-air and flailing."
"That makes sense. Thanks, Harold." I mimicked his stance. "So basically just... stay tight and don't overthink it?"
"Exactly! Want me to go first so you can see it in action?"
"If you don't mind."
Harold approached the edge with visible confidence now, took his position, and executed a textbook-perfect dive. Safe zone, minimal splash.
When he surfaced, he looked up and gave a thumbs up.
One injury potentially avoided, I thought with satisfaction.
Confessional - Harold:"Noah actually asked for my help! And listened! That doesn't usually happen. People usually tell me to shut up or stop showing off. But he actually wanted to learn from me. That was... that was really cool."
Ezekiel was next, approaching the edge with visible trepidation. He looked down and went visibly green.
"Uh... that's really high, eh?"
I noticed him glancing at Harold's perfect dive, then looking at his own hands uncertainly.
"Hey, Ezekiel," I called, loud enough for both teams to hear, keeping my tone casual and slightly sarcastic. "Whatever you do, don't try to be fancy. This isn't the Olympics. Just a simple jump — legs together, arms at sides. Boring works. Boring keeps all your bones on the inside where they belong."
A few people chuckled. Tyler, standing nearby, scoffed like the advice was beneath him.
Ezekiel, however, nodded seriously. "Right. Simple. No fancy stuff, eh."
He took a breath, positioned himself exactly as I'd described, and stepped off. Straight drop, arms tucked. Safe zone.
Confessional - Ezekiel:"I was gonna try a flip or something to look cool, eh? But then Noah said that thing about bones staying inside, and I figured... maybe simple's better for the first time. Glad I listened."
Tyler was next. I felt hope drain out of me as he completely ignored everything that had just happened.
"Watch THIS, everyone!" He announced, taking a running start. "Triple flip! No problem!"
No. Don't do it. Please don't do it.
He launched himself off the edge, attempting rotation. Immediately lost control. Arms and legs everywhere, spinning wrong—
The splash was followed by an agonized scream. "AAAUGH!"
Tyler was pulled into the recovery boat, clutching his stomach, face red from the impact.
"That was just... practice..." he groaned.
I tried, I thought with resignation. I literally gave him the blueprint for not hurting himself, made it funny so it wouldn't bruise his ego, and he STILL tried a triple flip.
Confessional - Noah:"Some people learn from others' mistakes. Some people learn from their own mistakes. And some people, apparently, don't learn at all. Tyler is firmly in category three."
Duncan went next, doing a backflip off the edge because of course he did. Showed off, but actually stuck the landing in the safe zone.
Confessional - Duncan:"These suburban kids are scared of a little cliff? Please. I've jumped off highway overpasses for fun."
Sadie approached next, visibly shaking. She looked over at Katie on the Gophers' side.
Katie gave her an encouraging wave. "You can do it, Sadie!"
Sadie took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and jumped. Messy but functional. Safe zone.
Confessional - Sadie:Sniffling but smiling. "I did it without Katie. I actually did it. Eva was right — I didn't explode."*
DJ approached the edge, looked down, and immediately backed up. "Nope. No way. Not happening."
"Come on, DJ!" Geoff called. "You can do it!"
"I CAN'T!" DJ's voice cracked. "I'm scared of heights! And water! And sharks! This is literally all my fears combined!"
Chris appeared with the dreaded chicken hat — bright yellow, oversized, and utterly humiliating. "Then this is for you!"
DJ took it with resignation, placing it on his head while his team groaned.
Izzy didn't just jump — she did a running cartwheel off the edge, laughing maniacally the entire way down. Safe zone, naturally, because apparently physics gave up on applying to her.
Confessional - Izzy:"THAT WAS AMAZING! Can we do it again?! Can we do it TWICE?! I want to try a backflip next time!"
Only Courtney remained.
She stood at the edge, staring down. Her team was already at the bottom — no one left to encourage or pressure her. Just Courtney, the cliff, and her fear.
She stood there for what felt like forever, frozen.
I caught her eye from across the clearing. Didn't say anything. Couldn't — her team wasn't up here anymore. Just... looked at her. Gave the smallest nod. You've got this.
She stared back, jaw set, then took three steps back. A running start. A moment of pure determination.
She jumped.
The scream was primal, terror and defiance mixed together. But she fell straight, hit the safe zone, and surfaced gasping.
"I DID IT!" Her voice was shaky but triumphant. "I ACTUALLY DID IT!"
Confessional - Courtney:"I almost didn't. I was this close to putting on that stupid hat and giving up. But then I looked up and saw Noah just... standing there. Not judging. Just believing I could. And I thought, if he thinks I can do this, then maybe I can." She pauses. "I hate that his quiet confidence is more effective than loud encouragement. It's annoying."
The Jumps - Screaming Gophers
"Alright, Gophers! Your turn!" Chris called. "Let's see if you can beat the Bass!"
Trent went first, calm and collected. Perfect safe zone landing.
Gwen followed, less enthusiastic but competent. Safe zone.
Confessional - Gwen:"Did I want to jump off a cliff into shark-infested water? No. Did I have a choice? Also no. Welcome to reality TV, where your dignity goes to die."
Heather walked up to the edge next, looked down, and immediately stepped back, arms crossed defensively.
"No. Absolutely not."
"WHAT?!" Leshawna turned from where she stood. "Girl, we ALL jumping! Your turn!"
"I'm not getting my hair wet on camera," Heather said firmly. "It takes hours to style, and I refuse to look like a drowned rat on national television."
Lindsay, hearing this, immediately brightened. "Oh! If Hanna not jumping, I won't either! We can wait together!"
"Lindsay, no—" Katie started.
"NOBODY'S WAITING!" Leshawna was climbing back up the cliff now, dripping wet and clearly done with this conversation. "We need every jumper for the advantage! Get your prissy butt over that edge, Heather!"
"Make me," Heather said coldly.
Leshawna's eye twitched. "Girl, you do NOT want me to—"
"I said NO."
That was apparently the last straw. Leshawna grabbed Heather by the waist and physically hurled her off the cliff.
Heather's shriek of outrage could probably be heard in Toronto. She flailed the entire way down, hit the safe zone, and surfaced sputtering with absolute fury.
"LESHAWNA! YOU ARE DEAD! DO YOU HEAR ME?! DEAD!"
Leshawna muttered, "Calm down, princess. I threw you in the safe zone, didn't I? Hope I will land there too" Then she shrugged and jumped, landing near Heather with a massive splash.
I watched from above with mixed feelings. Effective. Got the job done. But that was public humiliation.
Confessional - Noah:"Tactically, Leshawna made the right call. We needed Heather to jump, she wasn't going to do it voluntarily, problem solved. But there's solving problems and there's humiliating people to solve problems. Maybe that's why her personality rubs me wrong — she doesn't see the line or sees it and doesn't care."
Lindsay, seeing Heather already in the water, panicked and immediately jumped after her. "Henrietta! I'm coming!" Safe zone, lots of screaming.
Owen approached the edge, grinned, and cannonballed with such force that water erupted like a geyser, splashing halfway back up the cliff.
Well, I thought, watching the massive splash, at least that probably counts as an impromptu bath. Probably the most water Owen's seen in a while given his... hygiene standards.
Confessional - Owen:Still dripping. "BEST! JUMP! EVER! Did you see that splash?! I think I made a wave!"*
Justin walked to the edge with the confidence of someone who'd never failed at anything in his life. He dove beautifully, form perfect, and hit the water just outside the safe zone.
Everyone held their breath.
The sharks circled. Got closer. Then... stopped.
They just hung there in the water, almost mesmerized, while Justin swam calmly to the safe zone like he was doing laps in a pool.
"Did..." Cody's voice drifted up from below, bewildered. "Did the sharks just get distracted by how pretty he is?"
Okay, I thought, staring at the scene below. That's officially supernatural. Sharks. SHARKS. Were distracted by physical attractiveness.
The thought triggered another memory. If Justin's looks work on predatory fish, then maybe... maybe other things I thought were exaggerated for TV are real too.
Dawn's face flashed through my mind. Calm, ethereal Dawn from Revenge of the Island. The way she'd talked to animals, read auras, known things she shouldn't have known. I'd always assumed it was editing, creative storytelling.
But if this world has Justin's supernatural attractiveness, maybe it has Dawn's supernatural awareness too. Maybe a lot of things I dismissed as TV magic are just... reality here.
The thought was both comforting and terrifying. Dawn had been my favourite from the later seasons — someone who actually seemed to see people, understand them on a deeper level.
If she's real, if I meet her... would she see through me? Know I'm not really Noah?
I filed that away for future worry.
Confessional - Noah:"Justin's looks apparently work on sharks. SHARKS. I'm adding that to the list of things that make no logical sense but I've witnessed with my own eyes. Which means other things I thought were TV exaggeration might be real too. This world just got a lot more complicated."
Confessional - Cody:"Did the sharks seriously just... stop? Because Justin's pretty? How does that even WORK?! Is there like, a biological explanation for that? Can someone science this for me?!"
Confessional - Gwen:"Of course Justin's the one person who can charm literal predators. Of course. Because the universe has a sense of humor and it's not a good one."
Cody went next, running up with far too much confidence for someone his size. He launched himself off with a whoop that turned into a scream halfway down, limbs flailing. He hit the safe zone, barely, and surfaced sputtering but grinning.
Then Beth stepped up to the edge.
She looked down at the water, then back at Chris, then down again. Her hands were shaking. She took one step forward, then immediately retreated three steps back.
"I can't," she said, voice trembling. "I can't do it."
Chris appeared with the chicken hat, already grinning. "Then this lovely accessory is all yours!"
"Wait." I stepped forward before I could think better of it. "Beth, hold on."
She turned to me, eyes wide behind her braces-covered smile — except she wasn't smiling now. She looked terrified.
"You can do this," I said, keeping my voice calm. "I know it's scary but think about what happens if you don't jump."
"I-I don't have to wear a silly hat?" she offered weakly.
"You lose our team an advantage, and some members will hold it against you." Yes, Heather, I'm talking about you. I looked back into Beth eyes and softened my tone. "Look, I'm not trying to pressure you. But I also don't want you to regret this later when team's struggles.
She bit her lip, looking back at the edge. "But it's so high..."
"It is. But here's a trick — don't think about the water. Think about landing in something you love. A pen full of puppies. A giant tub of ice cream. Your favorite place in the world. Whatever makes you happy, picture that instead."
Beth blinked. "Puppies?"
"Or kittens. Or bunnies. Whatever works. Your brain can't tell the difference in the moment — it just knows you're jumping toward something good instead of something scary."
She looked at the water again, and I could see her lips moving slightly. Probably imagining puppies.
"You've got this," I said quietly. "And your team will be grateful you tried."
Beth took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and ran.
Her scream was high-pitched and terrified, but she kept her body straight like Harold had demonstrated. She hit the safe zone and surfaced, gasping and shocked.
"I DID IT!" she shrieked. "I ACTUALLY DID IT!"
Confessional - Beth:She's grinning, still a bit breathless. "Okay so Noah suggested thinking about puppies or ice cream or whatever, but I went with something a little different." She blushes deeply. "I imagined jumping into a pool full of really hot guys. Like, male model hot. And it TOTALLY worked! I mean, I was still screaming, but I wasn't thinking about the scary water anymore, I was thinking about— " She stops herself, laughing. "Anyway! The point is, the trick works! Just maybe don't tell Noah what I actually pictured. He'd probably think I'm weird."
From the shore, the Gophers cheered.
Katie approached the edge, visibly nervous. She looked back at me, gave a small smile, then jumped. Safe zone, graceful landing.
Only I remained.
"Any day now, Noah!" Chris called. "We haven't got all afternoon!"
I took a breath, remembered Harold's advice, positioned myself properly, and jumped.
The moment my feet left the cliff, time seemed to slow. Wind rushing past, stomach dropping, the terrible certainty that I'd made a horrible mistake—
Then I hit the water.
Cold. So cold it knocked the air from my lungs. I kicked hard, breaking the surface, gasping—
And realized I wasn't in the safe zone.
I was three meters outside it. And the sharks were already turning toward me.
Oh no.
Shark Encounter
Confessional - Katie:"I looked up just in time to see Noah surface. And he wasn't in the safe zone. The sharks were already moving. I just... my heart stopped. I couldn't breathe."
Confessional - Courtney:"He was supposed to be smart. He calculated the cliff height, he helped others, and then he just—" She stops, expression tight. "I thought he was going to die. Right there. In front of all of us."
The sharks were getting closer. Three of them, circling, assessing whether I was food or just entertainment.
Stay calm. Sharks don't usually attack humans. Usually. Unless they're hungry. Or curious. Or bored. Or it's Tuesday.
My mind raced through options. Splashing would attract them. Swimming away would trigger chase instinct. Playing dead didn't work on sharks because they're not stupid.
Think. THINK.
One shark was getting closer. Close enough to see its dead black eyes, its rows of teeth.
I spotted a rock on the lakebed below me. Dove down, grabbed it, surfaced, and hurled it as hard as I could toward the far end of the safe zone boundary.
The splash caught their attention. Two of the sharks immediately turned toward it, investigative instincts overriding interest in me.
But one remained. Closer now. Five feet. Four feet.
I forced myself to stay still. Absolutely still. Sharks tracked movement. If I panicked, if I splashed—
Three feet.
From the shore, I could hear shouting, screaming, but it was muted and distant.
Two feet.
An airhorn blast split the air.
The shark startled, veering away. A boat appeared — the recovery boat — and Geoff's hand reached down.
"GRAB ON, BRO!"
I didn't need to be told twice. The moment I felt his grip, he hauled me into the boat with surprising strength.
I collapsed against the boat's side, heart hammering, adrenaline crashing through me.
"Dude! DUDE! That was INSANE! You almost got EATEN!"
"Yeah," I managed, voice shaky. "Thanks for... that."
"No problem, man! That's what teammates do!"
Confessional - Geoff:"I've been to some crazy parties, seen some wild stuff, but watching sharks circle one of my castmates? That was INTENSE. I just reacted. Didn't even think. Just had to get him out."
The Beach - Aftermath
The boat reached the shore, and I stumbled out onto the sand, legs unsteady.
Before I could even process what had happened, people surrounded me.
Katie got there first, eyes wide and scared. "Oh my god, are you okay?! That was terrifying!"
"I'm fine," I managed, though my hands were still shaking. "Just... miscalculated the landing."
"Miscalculated?!" Courtney appeared, looking torn between relieved and furious. "You nearly DIED!"
"But I didn't. So technically, success."
"That's not how success works!"
Izzy bounced up, and for just a second — one brief, unguarded moment — her expression was serious. Genuinely worried. Her eyes scanned me like she was checking for injuries, and there was something sharp and analytical in that gaze that didn't match her usual chaos.
Then she blinked, and the mask snapped back into place.
"NOAH! That was SO COOL! The sharks were like 'ooh, snack!' and you were like 'NOT TODAY, FISH!' and then the ROCK and the—"
She kept talking, bouncing around, but I'd seen it. That flicker of genuine concern before the performance resumed.
She's not always acting, I realized. But she's really good at making people think she is.
Confessional - Izzy:Her manic energy is slightly subdued. "Okay, so like, sharks are COOL and all, but watching them circle someone you're on a team with? Less cool. For a second I thought—" She stops, shakes her head, grins wide. "But he's FINE! Totally fine! And it made GREAT TV! Chris is probably THRILLED!"
Confessional - Beth:Wringing her hands. "I couldn't watch. I literally turned away. I thought... I thought we were going to see someone die on the first day. Thank god for Geoff. Thank god Noah's okay."*
Confessional - Harold:"The odds of a shark attack on a human are actually very low — about 1 in 11.5 million. But watching it almost happen to someone you know? Statistics suddenly don't matter. That was... that was really scary."
Confessional - Lindsay:"Nick almost got eaten! By sharks! Like, real sharks! This show is way more dangerous than I thought! I hope he's okay. He seems really nice."
Owen approached and pulled me into a hug that nearly cracked my ribs. "DUDE! You're ALIVE!"
"Barely," I wheezed. "Also, you're crushing me."
"Sorry!" He released me but kept grinning. "But seriously, that was CRAZY!"
Trent clapped me on the shoulder. "Good thing you kept calm, man. Panicking would've made it worse."
"Trust me, I was panicking internally," I said. "I just didn't have time to panic externally."
Gwen actually smiled slightly. "Points for survival instincts. Most people would've freaked out and gotten themselves killed."
"I'll add 'didn't die to sharks' to my resume."
People were starting to disperse, the adrenaline fading, when Heather walked past.
She was wringing water from her hair, arms close to her body, movements careful. She reached up to adjust her swimsuit strap, and the motion shifted her arm just enough—
The makeup had smudged.
Not completely washed away, but smudged enough that if you were looking — really looking — you could see the edges of something dark underneath. Purple shadows, partially concealed, high on her upper arm.
She caught me looking.
For a second, our eyes met. Hers went defensive, almost panicked. She immediately pulled her arm close, crossing them over her chest, turning away.
I looked away too. Said nothing.
But the image stuck. Even partially hidden, the shape was unmistakable. Finger-shaped marks. Grip marks.
Those aren't accidental, I realized, stomach sinking. Someone grabbed her. Hard. Recently.
The image of the queen bee — cruel, manipulative, selfish — suddenly gained cracks. Depth I hadn't wanted to see.
What if I'm wrong about her? The thought hit like cold water. What if there's a reason she's like this? What if the control, the manipulation, the need to win at all costs... what if it's not just personality? What if it's survival?
I didn't know what was happening in Heather's life. Didn't know who'd hurt her or why or how long it had been going on. But those bruises told a story, and it wasn't one about someone who was naturally cruel for fun.
It was about someone who was scared. Someone who'd learned that being vulnerable meant being hurt.
I need to reconsider everything I thought I knew about her, I realized. Not excuse the behavior — she's still responsible for her actions. But understand it. There's something deeper here. Something bad. And I have no idea what to do with that information.
Confessional - Noah:"Nearly dying puts things in perspective. Makes you look at people differently. See things you missed before. Sometimes what you see changes everything you thought you knew." He pauses, looking uncomfortable. "I don't know what to do with that yet. But I can't un-know it either."