Chapter 30

Cas's footsteps were loud on the tile, echoing in the otherwise silent villa. This was the worst possible time for them to bring her into the beach hut—she hadn't had time to talk to Ada, to Femi, to anyone, but the producers had to talk to her now?

She'd run after Ada, her trainers slipping on the stones on the hill, but Ada hadn't been anywhere. She'd shouted her name, desperate, her brain running over a thousand possible things—maybe she'd left, maybe she was preemptively packing Cas's suitcase—none of which made her feel any better.

The door of the beach hut fell shut with a thud as Cas dropped into the circular chair.

She'd just opened her mouth to say hello when the speaker crackled, and though the producers always sounded busy, there was something particularly distracted in Chloe's voice today. "Thanks for coming so quickly, Cas. We've got a lot to talk about."

"Yeah." Cas shifted in her seat. "What are we doing about this?"

"Obviously, the production team was aware of the circumstances that brought you onto this show," Chloe said. It sounded like she was riffling through a stack of fifteen thousand sheets of paper on the other end. "But we've always known there was a possibility that the situation could become public knowledge, and now that that's happened, it changes things for us."

Cas frowned. "In what way?"

"We don't think it makes sense for you to continue on Hot Summer."

Everything froze.

"What do you mean?" She tried for a laugh. At the very least, it might make her stop feeling like she was choking. "Surely, you can't be kicking me off for this."

It wasn't right. Cas never said anything, never broke any terms of her contract. Production had arranged the deal with Robert and Friday, had negotiated the agreement for weeks. They'd done this—and, yes, she was part of it, but just as a chess piece, not the instigator. But to force her to leave was to act like she'd gotten into this on her own. Like she'd tricked them into thinking she was a regular contestant when, lo and behold, she'd been sneakily having marketing meetings the entire time.

She always knew in the back of her mind that the show could, and would, do whatever they liked. If the public had voted her off, or she hadn't been selected for a couple, or anything like that, they would have sent her home no problem because, per her contract, there were absolutely no guarantees for her safety. But for them to remove her? For them to send her home, outside of an elimination, felt like a punishment, especially because she'd done nothing wrong.

"Unfortunately," Chloe said, her tone detached and disinterested, "the public narrative has become that you've been planted on this show as a marketing ploy."

"How could they even know that? I didn't tell anyone."

Chloe hummed noncommittally. "However the information got out there is not our concern. But I can—"

"So you're not worried about how or why someone leaked sensitive information to the press, something that could be very damaging to your show, my company, and me personally?"

"No." There was the sound of a pen clicking on the other end and then the very distinct scrawling of said pen over a clipboard. "Rather, what we are focused on right now is maintaining our viewers' trust and commitment to our programming. And, from the start, this has been the contingency plan should this ever come to pass."

"What? To throw me under the bus?"

"It was part of your original contract, Cas. Page nine, if memory serves. We are entirely within our rights to remove you from the show for any reason including, but not limited to, public discussion of the Friday/Hot Summer agreement."

"And how long have you known that this was going to happen? It obviously was planned, since you guys built it into the challenge."

Because it wasn't enough, apparently, to throw her out. They'd had to embarrass her in front of Ada, her friends, the entire damn country, and make sure that this contingency plan of theirs stuck.

"Things started spiraling on social media within the last week. We've been keeping an eye on it."

"But it would've gone away if they never got any evidence. It could still go away if you don't give it any credence—acting on it like this basically confirms it."

"We aren't tying ourselves to a sinking ship," Chloe said simply. They were harsh words delivered with an unrivaled ease. "We have to protect our interests."

"You can't do this." Cas was begging. "Regardless of what brought me here, I've more than proven that my motives now are completely genuine."

"Have you?" The skepticism in Chloe's voice was an ice-cold knife straight to Cas's gut.

"Yes." She knew she sounded desperate, but she didn't care. "Everything I ever said to Ada I meant. You can't let it end this way. My feelings for her are real."

Feelings that were so big, Cas could feel them swelling in her chest, blocking her throat. If this news had broken weeks ago, sure she would have been humiliated and annoyed at the PR control she'd have to do at work, but she would have left. But now, at the idea of leaving Ada behind... at leaving Femi and Sienna, and Freddie.

But maybe there was still hope for them. Ada had said, that morning in the retreat, that if Cas had to leave, she'd follow her out. Yes, Ada was definitely pissed off right now, but they'd both said they could see a future together. They'd made plans for what things could look like on the outside. They trusted each other.

It was that small promise that settled the anxiety clawing at Cas's chest. She and Ada would need to talk before they left—Ada deserved a full explanation long ago, and Cas would make sure she'd get one now, but then they'd be isolated in a hotel room until they flew back to London. They'd have hours and hours to talk, hours that weren't going to be filmed and broadcast for everyone in the country to see.

Chloe might not have believed that Cas's feelings were real, but people were going to think whatever they wanted. It didn't matter if she, or the other producers, or, hell, even the entire British viewing public, knew or cared about the reality of her relationship with Ada.

The only person Cas needed to convince was Ada. And, given a little bit of time on their own, she was certain that she could explain everything.

"Am I going to get time to talk to everyone before I have to leave? They deserve the truth."

"You're going to gather everyone at the fire pit," Chloe said. "And you're going to tell them you've decided to leave—"

"But I haven't. You've decided I'm leaving."

"We don't need to go into the details." Chloe's words were the audible version of a dismissive hand wave. "You're to say that you've decided to leave and you've loved your time here, you'll see them on the outside, et cetera."

"Should I say the ‘et cetera' part?"

"No." In any other situation, Cas would have found it amusing that Chloe took her sarcasm seriously. "But under no circumstances can you go into the details of the arrangement or say this is a removal. It must be framed like it was your decision to leave."

"Why?" If she was going to leave because of a lie, she didn't want to double down at the last moment, she wanted to leave having told the truth. At least as much of it as she thought she could tell anyway. "I think I should get the chance to explain what's happening to my friends."

"In case you've forgotten, you signed an NDA. And refusal to follow these guidelines could mean serious legal trouble for you."

"I could explain it to them off camera," Cas insisted. "They've already heard about the deal through the headline, surely there's a little flexibility—"

"There isn't," Chloe said firmly. "You follow these guidelines or you leave right now without saying goodbye."

There was silence between them for a few long beats, and though Cas had half a mind to wait it out, she also just really, really wanted to get this over with.

Cas sighed. "Fine. Whatever you want."

Everyone was in the kitchen when Cas walked outside. She could hear them whispering, their voices hushed as though worried Cas would hear them when she was back in the beach hut. At the sound of the door falling closed behind her, the kitchen fell abruptly silent, and sure enough, all eight of her roommates were standing in the kitchen, eyes trained on the floor when she rounded the corner.

"Hey, everyone." Cas's voice cracked in the middle of "everyone," and she swallowed, started again. She needed to at least pretend she had some dignity. "Can we go to the fire pit, please?"

She expected some sort of reaction—confusion, maybe surprise—but the most she got was a very slight twitch of the eyebrow from Femi when their eyes met.

Ada was the last to leave the kitchen. She sat, her gaze trained on the countertop while everyone else filed out around her. The moment they were alone, Ada finally looked at her, her lips parting with an inhale, and Cas felt herself teetering on the edge, desperate for Ada to say something, anything, that would make her feel less anxious about what she was going to have to do now.

Ada pushed back her chair and walked toward the fire pit, and Cas watched her go, feet frozen to the spot.

Cas waited until Ada had nearly reached the others before following, looking and feeling like a woman walking the gangplank. There was a persistent voice in the back of her mind telling her to pick her head up, to throw her shoulders back, to show them (who them were, Cas wasn't a hundred percent sure) that she wasn't affected by this, but that's what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

Maybe it was time to wear her heart on her sleeve. At least a little bit.

Everyone was sitting on the bench around the fire pit when Cas arrived, their expressions ranging from emotionless to incredibly pissed off. It wasn't the sort of supportive crowd you wanted when you were about to be thrown to the wolves, but Cas understood. What really got her was Ada, who looked like she'd rather Cas fling herself over the hedge than say a word.

Cas swung her arms behind her back, knotting her fingers together to keep from fidgeting with them too much while she was talking. "I've decided that it's time for me to go."

There were a few slight eyebrow raises, some clear side glances, but no gasps. No shock or demands that she stay, or at least think about it.

"It's clear, after the headline today, that I'll just be a distraction, and I don't want to be in the way of everyone else finding happiness here." Cas re-knotted her fingers together. Wearing your heart on your sleeve was one thing, but her heart was about to come out of her mouth. "I can't speak to whether the rumors are true or not, and trust me, I wish I could tell you everything."

It was probably skirting a little too close to her NDA, but whatever. Chloe could sue her. Or edit it out.

"There's a lot going on behind the scenes that I can't talk about. But I've already found what I'm looking for here anyway. I don't need to stay."

Cas was pleading. Pleading with Ada to see that when she said she found what she was looking for, she meant her, not some stupid thing that her boss had sent her in for. She'd found happiness, real happiness, and with someone just a few tube stops away, someone she could have met at any of the pubs, any of the clubs, but, somehow, had just never happened to bump into until now.

It was almost making her misty eyed just thinking about it. The fate of it all.

But Ada was staring at the ground, shoulders stiff, arms crossed, and the anxiety swirling in Cas's stomach reached new heights. This was not the expression she'd been hoping for.

"So, yeah." Cas let her hands move from behind her back, though she almost immediately clasped them together in front of her again. "This is goodbye."

No one moved for so long that Cas had half a mind to repeat herself. To shout, Did you hear me?! I'm leaving!

Instead, every single pair of eyes was trained on Ada, waiting to see what she'd do. Cas had already assumed that they'd all been talking about her when she'd come out into the kitchen, but it was clear, now, that some sort of game plan had been decided. Ada shook her head so imperceptibly that Cas would have missed it if she weren't watching, and everyone noticeably exhaled before getting to their feet.

Lucy was the first one to reach Cas's side, and though she tried for a sad expression, she didn't look even remotely upset.

"I'm really sorry you're going, Cas," Lucy said. She put her hand on Cas's forearm. "But maybe it's for the best."

Everyone else at least had the decency not to swipe at what was left of her dignity as they said goodbye. Reece made a half second's worth of eye contact and muttered goodbye, Tia tried adding that she would miss her and a placating tap on the arm.

"Bye, Cas." Despite the speed of the hug and the way that Sienna wouldn't quite meet her eyes, there was a sadness to the words as she whispered them into Cas's ear.

Freddie could barely make eye contact as he approached, head down, eyes trained on the decking. He gave her a hug goodbye, his hands twitching on her back once, twice, like he was thinking about squeezing her harder, but then he stepped away and walked off without saying anything else.

Femi was where it was really going to hurt.

His expression was soft as he approached her, a warm island in a sea of cold indifference. He wrapped his arms around her without a moment's hesitation, this hug slower, more intentional. "I'm going to miss you."

Cas felt her heart climb up into her throat, and she tried her best to swallow it down.

"You should've told me," Femi said. He wasn't chastising her, but she felt the disappointment in his voice anyway. "I wouldn't've told anyone."

She squeezed him tighter, pressing him to her like he was the only thing tethering her to the ground. It was ridiculous—she'd only known him six weeks—but he had become one of her best friends and she was going to miss him. She was going to miss the way he sang around the villa; the perfect cups of iced coffee he made her, Sienna, and Ada every morning; his ridiculous laughter at the stupidest of jokes; even the damn jumping on the bed.

All at once, Cas felt the wave crash over her.

She was going to miss the routine she'd built in this house. The people she'd built it with.

"I couldn't," Cas said. "My contract—I couldn't."

"There were ways you could have told me," Femi said. "I wouldn't've judged you."

"Oh yeah right, you would have been fine if I told you that I ‘wasn't really here for love'?"

Femi shook his head. "I'm not an idiot, Cas. I know a lot of people don't come on here for that. I'm your friend, you could've trusted me." Cas opened her mouth to argue, but Femi shook his head. "And whether you came here for love or not, we both know you found it. No matter what comes next, remember that."

He stated it so plainly. So baldly. And Cas clung to the words, to the truth of them—what came next was going to be incredibly hard, but at least she was stepping out of this villa with this feeling.

Femi gave her one more deep squeeze and whispered, "We'll leave you two alone. To say goodbye."

His words were ominous, especially when coupled with the way Ada still wasn't quite looking at her. And she knew it then, felt in her bones what was about to happen.

"Bye, Fem," Cas said. She squeezed his forearms before dropping her hands down by her sides.

Femi smiled at her one last time, his whole expression sad, before walking past her into the grass. Cas looked over her shoulder, and by this point everyone had gone. She appreciated that they were letting her and Ada have this conversation alone. That they were being given one last minute alone.

Cas swallowed hard. "Hey." Cas almost laughed at herself, the awkwardness in her voice. "Can I— Can we talk?"

Ada nodded silently, her eyes not quite meeting Cas's, but, instead, trained on something just past her left ear.

"I—" Seeing Ada like this, still completely unable to make eye contact, still folded in on herself, was making Cas a little desperate. She needed Ada to understand.

She needed Ada to forgive her.

"Ada, I am so, so sorry."

She shifted her weight forward, thinking of taking a step closer to Ada, but decided against it. As much as she wanted to, she wanted Ada to come to her. Wanted Ada to want her in her space again.

Ada nodded in acknowledgment. "I know you are, Cas."

Okay, that was something.

Not... a lot, granted. But it was something.

And she wanted to tell Ada everything, could feel the whole story there, waiting to be said, but the reminder of Chloe's threat about her NDA was there, echoing in her ears, strangling her. It had been annoying, not being able to tell anyone else, but it was infuriating, having to walk this line with Ada.

"I can't tell you everything right now, but I will. I just need you to trust me when I say that my feelings for you have always been genuine.

"I didn't come on this show expecting to meet anyone like you. I didn't think that they'd have anyone here who would make sense for me or would make me, like—" She pressed her hand to her chest. How could she describe the way that Ada made her feel? The way Ada made her heart race and her entire body feel like it was vibrating, constantly, with energy?

"I didn't plan for you. But then that first day you stepped out of the Jeep and..."

Cas shook her head, and Ada finally, finally, met her gaze.

Cas hoped there would be warmth in Ada's eyes. Understanding. The memory of the two of them arriving at the villa together could not be this one-sided, could not have been the moment that only Cas realized the connection between them.

Instead, her gaze was cold. Hard.

"I don't know if I believe that."

The words were a knife to the chest.

Cas felt herself desperately trying to deflate, but she refused to let herself give in to it. Not yet.

"I know you're angry with me," Cas said, "but—you have to trust me. There's so much more going on here than I can explain right now."

"But I don't trust you. I don't know how you could expect me to trust you when you've been lying this entire time."

"I only lied about what first brought me here," Cas said. "Everything after it was the truth."

"But it wasn't." Ada practically spat the words. "You said you'd never used a dating app and you fucking worked for one. You said you were a party planner. You said you didn't know what the next step was in your career when, the whole time, you've known exactly where you're headed the minute you're out of here."

And it was true. She fucking hated it, but it was true. She had lied, but the truth was tangled up with every single fib. But how could she untangle it here, in front of these cameras, the NDA hanging like an ax over her head?

"You lied to me over and over again, and now you expect me to just forget that?"

"I just need you to believe me when I say that there's more to this story. There are things I can't tell you here, but if we leave together now, we can talk about them. Please."

Ada was quiet for a long moment. "I'm not going to leave with you. And I don't want to see you again on the outside."

Cas's heart couldn't break any more. It was already ground down into dust, blowing about in her chest. But Ada's no was the final straw. She felt the walls start going back up, could feel herself retreating, away from this moment, away from this woman, away from this villa and everyone watching her and everyone knowing that she'd shown her raw, emotional underbelly on this stupid show for someone who, again, would do nothing but disappoint her.

Would do nothing but abandon her at the first opportunity.

Cas huffed angrily, swiping her hair back off her face. "I can't believe I stood there, in front of all of them, and told them that I'd found what I was looking for. That I was happy."

"It's hard to believe you were actually looking for anything," Ada snapped. "You came here for work. That's it. You said it yourself!"

"That was my initial reason, yes," Cas said. "But that isn't what kept me here!"

"Right." Ada laughed sarcastically. "But how am I supposed to believe that when partnering up with me is exactly what kept you here?"

It was a low blow and they both knew it. Ada's expression twitched, just enough to give her away, but she didn't take it back. Didn't apologize.

Cas half laughed, the sound hard and bitter. "I don't need the reminder that I'm now universally hated, thanks."

"I'm sure you'll manage on the outside," Ada said. She wasn't looking at Cas, but staring at something over her left shoulder. "I'm sure you'll get more than enough opportunities and payouts to make you forget all about it."

Cas, furious, opened her mouth to reply when the Voice of God sparked to life behind them.

"Cas, please come pack your bags. It's time to leave the villa."

Before Cas could move, before she could even say anything, Ada stalked off without saying goodbye.