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The realization wraps around my heart like a constrictor, tighter and tighter, until it feels like there isn’t a shred of love left in it, and no space for love to worm its way in. I should have known better. Imusthave known something wasn’t right with Jordy, because I’d never entirely let him in. But a small part of him must have slipped in through the cracks, becauseI can feel him like acid in my veins, burning me from the inside out.

Maya and I need a game plan. If we’re going to make Jordy pay for what he did to us, we can’t simply play it by ear and hope for the best, like Maya seems to want to. We have to combine what we know about Jordy Miller, for a start.

Speaking of Maya, she’s still fast asleep, a pale, freckled arm thrown over her head. I consider poking her awake, but the effectiveness-to-irritating balance isn’t ideal. And I suppose Idowant her as a friend, now that I know she’s probably only a nightmare to people she believes actually deserve it. So, I go for option B, the same as yesterday morning: connecting my iPod to the speakers, playing “Cell Block Tango” fromChicago,and slowly turning the volume up.

Not long after the chorus, Maya groans. “What the fuck is that?” She plucks at the consonants so they’re razor sharp.

“It’s our theme song. Good morning.”

She responds by putting a pillow over her face. “We don’t even have anything on the schedule today, Skye, fuckoff.”

She might be swearing at me still, but there’s significantly less venom in her voice than yesterday. This bodes well for our working relationship. I hop off the bed, land heavily on the ground, then dig through the wardrobe for my bikini.

“We have a lot to talk about,” I say to the pillow, which growls at me in response. “But I haven’t spent time in the pool yet, so I’m going to do that. If you feel like scheming, I’ll see you there.” I wait for the chorus to finish playing, then turn off the song and head out, taking my speakers with me.

Maya appears at the pool about ten minutes later during “Material Girl.” She’s wearing a black one-piece with cutouts on the side and a plunging neckline. It’s the sort of suit that draws the eye to every curve on her chest and hips, and I don’tmeanto stare, but I catch myself doing it anyway.

“Do you think it’s warm enough to swim?” she asks skeptically.

“In Calgary, this is about as hot as it ever gets, so, yes,” I say as I descend the steps.

We’re the only ones here. Perrie and Francesca were in the kitchen when I passed, and Lauren and Kim hadn’t made it out of their room yet. What will the others think when they notice us out here together?

Maya scrunches her nose and gingerly lowers herself into the water. She squeals and carries on for a few seconds, but eventually submerges up to her neck.

“So,” I say, paddling in place, “we need a game plan.”

Maya puts on a serious face and swims over so I don’t have to shout at her. “Okay.”

“Step one. You really messed up at the party.”

Maya chokes out a laugh. “Oh, you’re not holding back then, okay.”

“You realize they’ll cast you as the villain now, right? Like, for certain? You can’t go on camera saying the lead guy is an asshole andnotbe the villain. It’s math.”

“Is it?”

“Logic, then. And if you’re the villain, it’s going to make it impossible for viewers to take your side when you break Jordy’s heart. Can you imagine the whole world deciding Jordy’s the good guy in your story? I’m assuming that’s not what you want, correct?”

Maya lets her head sink up to her nose, her hair floating around her in weightless tendrils, and narrows her eyes before resurfacing. “I see your point. So, what do I do about that?”

I backstroke in a circle around Maya to help me think. “Well, the most obvious choice is to pick someone else to be the villain and manipulate them into looking bad enough that they take your spot.”

Maya swings around in the water to stare at me in shock. “Skye!”

I stop midstroke. “But, of course, we’d never do that?” I ask sheepishly.

“I’m here to mess with Jordy, not to ruin the lives of his other victims.”

I appreciate her morals, but, counterpoint: without a scapegoat, it’s going to be much harder to get the producers to swerve from the established narrative. We’ll need to turn Maya into the next best thing to a saint to pull this off. That, or she’s going to have to adjust to the idea of me taking down Jordy in her stead.

“Okay, fine, fine. You need to besupercareful about what you say, then. And you should get on the good side of the other girls so they don’t smear you on camera. Otherwise, it doesn’t matter how you behave, the audience will decide you must be two-faced if all the other girls hate you.”

“Do I show them the proof, then?”

“You can. But if it gets back to Jordy, he might be suspicious that neither of us seems to care when we’re around him. He’s self-absorbed, but he’s not a newborn. And it might give him and the producers warning to prepare a story that makes him look good before it gets out. Something that makes us look like liars.”

Maya’s face falls, but she nods. “You’ve thought this through, huh?”