Page 64 of Unscripted

“The girl I want to match with is . . . ” he said, his sentence drifting off.

He paused for a long while. So long that I couldn’t help it and lifted my gaze to him.

He was staring into the fire pit’s flames, clearly lost in his own thoughts. Why hadn’t he chosen yet?

Then he looked up and, to my surprise, at me. Is he really going to look at me when he says her name? When he leaves me single, stamping my one-way ticket out of here?

Suddenly, it was impossible to look away from him. I wanted him to see it—the look in my eyes when he sent me home.

“I want to match with,” he repeated.

We were still staring at each other. Time stretched on, long and silent and still.

And then, he spoke again.

“Poppy.”

***

I stood, rooted to the spot, and continued to stare across the fire pit at Callum. Somewhere in my brain I was aware of our castmates clapping, of Gemma gesturing between the two of us, of Sara scoffing and crossing her arms in annoyance.

I knew those things were happening around me, and yet I couldn’t click back into reality; couldn’t focus on anything outside of Callum as we continued to stare at each other.

I wasn’t going home. I was safe, at least for another few days.

The panic I had been trying to keep at bay melted into pure exhaustion. I felt its weight as I stood there, still looking across at Callum.

There was a long road ahead of us to navigate, and much to say to get on the same page, but the unwavering way he was looking back at me cleared up one thing: we would be in it together. He was choosing me, just as I had chosen him before.

A hand on my arm jolted me back into the present moment. Jess gave me a squeeze and then a little push forward. I realized that everyone had been waiting for me to walk over to Callum.

“Poppy, you can join Callum, please,” Gemma said, trying to move the show along.

I flushed, wondering just how long we had been staring at each other, and quickly walked over to sit next to him, our bodies pressing up against each other.

The relief at him picking me, at him reaffirming our deal, at him not picking Sara, was so strong I physically sagged with it.

I had so many questions, but it all had to wait. The Matching Ceremony was still going on.

Focusing back on the girls standing in front of me, I realized it was down to Olivia, Jess and Sara, with only James left to pick.

Please pick Jess, I begged in my head. But I already knew what James would do. Besides me, he had only shown interest in one other girl in the villa.

“Olivia,” James said. Olivia crossed the deck toward him, pecked him on the cheek, and sat next to him on the bench.

For the second time that night, I felt queasy with anxiety as Jess and Sara remained standing by themselves.

Would they both go home?

I didn’t know if I could handle Jess not being in the villa. We had quickly grown to be close friends, and the thought of her not being here anymore was too much to bear.

“Well, we have two single girls left,” Gemma said, looking at the rest of us. “Bellas, their fates are now up to you. Each pair will vote for who they want to keep in the villa, Sara or Jess. Whoever has the least number of votes will be dumped and must leave the villa immediately.”

A matching and a dumping in one night. I knew it happened on the show, and rather frequently, but to be an active participant in it felt like a whole other story. The weight of our choice felt heavy and important.

What a problem to have, I thought to myself.

It was all trivial, in the grand scheme of life. We were participants on a reality television show, not solving the climate crisis or taking on world hunger. None of it really mattered, and yet it felt like the most important thing in the world. Like it was consequential.