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Maya catches my eye and frowns. I’m sure I know what she’s thinking. Kim seems to adore Jordy more than ever. Ifshe wins this thing, he’ll get his public happy ending, without a doubt.

There has to be something we can do to open her eyes. The problem is, I’m running out of ideas.

Unfortunately, even though Maya and I conduct a whispered brainstorming session while getting ready, we can’t come up with any useful plan to bring Kim over to the dark side.Usefulis the key word here, because Maya, to her credit, throws herself into strategizing with gusto, but I simply cannot cosign “set Kim up with a camera operator,” “write Kim a fake, mean letter from Jordy,” or “conduct a séance and ask the spirits for help.” We end up circling back to the original plan, which we’re no closer to “figuring out,” despite Maya’s quiet confidence that we will.

When Perrie returns, Maya and I have given up altogether, and are watching a rom-com. We’re both dressed and ready to go. Perrie’s hair and makeup held up well during the skating session thanks to half a can of setting spray, so all she has to do is kick off her sneakers and change into a dress before she sprints back to speak to Maya and me, stilettos in hand. Upstairs, Lauren and Kim are putting on their finishing touches—which seems incredible on Kim’s part, given she seemed as put together as humanly possible six hours ago.

So, when Perrie tells Maya and me all about her date—ice-skating in a rented-out rink in Loreux while receiving pointers from the Chalonian Olympic coach—we get the rare uncensored version she wouldn’t dare to say in front of the other two. Mostly Kim.

“I think he picked ice-skating for our first date so he could show off the first time around,” she says, sticking a protectivegel pad onto the widest part of her shoe. “And he wasdefinitelyshowing off this time. He spent more time doing spins in the middle of the rink than he did actually talking to me.”

“Did he take his shirt off?” Maya asks.

I snort. “Maya, it’s freezing in there.”

“I asked what I asked.”

“He did, actually,” Perrie admits.

Maya turns to me smugly.

“He’s not a bad kisser these days,” Perrie continues. “He’s improved since ninth grade.”

Maya gasps and whirls to tap Perrie’s shoulder with the back of her hand. “Youkissedhim?”

“I was curious! Plus, Violet told me if I did, they’d make my part of the episode longer.” She shrugs with a wicked grin. “Gotta get that screen time.”

“Wonderful,” I say. “Use him up.”

“Just make sure to throw him away,” Maya sings.

“Please. After what he did to you two, no amount of screen time in the world would make me commit to him.”

“And this is one of the reasons I love you,” Maya says.

Perrie pauses. “Actually, that’s a lie. I’d do it, if only because winning this would begreatpublicity. But a couple of months, max, then I’m donion rings.”

Maya and I force smiles, but I don’t think either of us is particularly convincing. That wouldn’t exactly be terrible for Jordy’s image. If anything, watching him get dumped by the love of his life a couple of months after committing to her would only make himmoreappealing. We’ll need to give this some thought, and see if we can come up with a way to gradually make Perrie reconsider accepting him, if she does get to the end—

“If you want maximum publicity, you should reject his ass on TV,” Maya says. “That’sa way to make headlines.”

Or we could just jump in with the first thing that pops into our heads, thank you, Maya.

Perrie shakes her head emphatically. “Yeah, headlines about what a stone-cold bitch I am. No, thank you. Anyway, can we put on a better movie, please? Rom-coms make me gag.”

A clanging noise in the kitchen alerts us that Kim and Lauren are finished. Moments later, they burst into the living room armed with flutes and bottles of champagne.

“We’re pre-gaming,” Kim says, setting up the glasses on the coffee table. “Join us?”

“That’ll work, too,” Perrie says, turning off the TV with the remote.

Kim and I take the couch, Lauren spreads out on the love seat, and Perrie lowers herself into one of the armchairs. Maya hesitates at the edges of the group, lost in thought. “What if we played a drinking game?” she asks.

“Like beer pong?” Lauren asks.

“No,” Kim says with a long-suffering look. “Not with champagne. How about Kings?”

“Spin the Bottle?” I ask innocently, just to see Maya’s face, and Perrie kicks me.