Bellamy's Redemption

“Oh, thanks,” I said, looking down at myself. I had opted for a nineteen hundred dollar bathing suit instead of the recommended inflatable bra and bikini bottoms I’d been assigned to wear. The suit was silver and pink striped, a one-of-a-kind original by designer Kajuki Sapuri. Long, shaggy fringe dangled all over it. It had come with a matching headband, kneepads, and fringed elbow-length gloves that I had left in my luggage. The ensemble’s suggested use was for rollerblading; I could tell this from the sketch included with the suit, depicting a woman spinning on a boardwalk, the fringe fanning out all around her, and the words ‘Only For Use Rollerskate’ written in the margin. Without the accessories it was almost simple and definitely classy.

“You have the best clothes. Really, I want to steal them all,” she said.

“Thanks. I think your suit is cute too.”

“This old thing?” she said, looking down at her shiny turquoise bikini. “It’s ready for the rag bag. I never even should have brought it here. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I think it’s nice.”

“People think doctors make a lot of money, but actually, we don’t really. I can tell from everyone else’s wardrobes that these girls are just as well-off as I am. Hey, are you filming this?” Vanessa asked a cameraman who had suddenly taken up residence in the next lawn chair over. “Could you please not film this?”

“Fine,” he said, getting up. “Don’t forget you’ve got a mic on.”

“I never do,” she said. Then she turned back to me, “As I was saying, I can tell that other girls, you for example, have a ton of money. I mean, not to be nosy, but what does a wardrobe like yours cost, if you don’t mind my asking.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t know if I wanted to let her in on my secret that nearly all my clothes were borrowed. “Um. Hmm. I’m not sure exactly how much my clothes cost,” I said.

“See, you’re that rich. Money is no object to you. Not that I would ever think this, but there are girls saying that the reason Bellamy likes you so much is because of your awesome wardrobe.”

“I don’t think guys can tell the difference between amazing clothes and regular clothes. Especially Bellamy.”

“What do you mean by especially Bellamy?” asked Vanessa.

“I mean that he’s not that shallow,” I said.

“Well, enough about all this negative stuff,” said Vanessa, smiling. “Do you know that three girls are going home tonight?”

“Yeah, I guess I heard that,” I said. “It seems kind of like he’s flying through people, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe, but once he gets it narrowed down more, things will slow down as he figures out which of us he’s serious about. I imagine we’ll both be safe, as usual. Who do you think is leaving?”

“I think he will put Marissa out of her misery, and probably send Chloe home since he was about to last time. I’m not sure about number three. What do you think?”

“Hmm,” said Vanessa. “Well, I’m with you on Marissa and Chloe. I think Mylar might be going home too. There is no way he’s ready to help her raise that kid.”

“Oh no. They’re back already,” I said. We were suddenly surrounded by sweaty, miserable looking women wearing hiking boots. Shar jumped into the pool in all her clothes and boots.

“This feels so freakin’ good,” she yelled, dog paddling past us.

“I’m in pain. So much pain,” said Shyla, sinking down on the lawn chair next to Vanessa.

“So how was it?” I asked.

“Pretty bad, actually.” She took off her hiking boots, wiggling her toes in the breeze. “First we all ate huge breakfasts. Jessica, the Australian, ordered first, and she got a big stack of pancakes, coffee, bacon, and scrambled eggs. Plus other stuff I think I’m forgetting. I swear, it was like she looked at the menu and picked one of everything. Well, as you both know, she is tiny and adorable, and it seemed like she had set the standard for the rest of us. Like, if she can eat all that and be tiny, maybe the rest of us should be able to also, you know? So we all ordered gross, crazy amounts of food to impress Bellamy with our supposed high metabolism, you know, trick him into thinking we’re men in women’s bodies, ‘cause everyone knows that’s what guys really want.”

Vanessa and I nodded sympathetically.

“Could you excuse me for a minute?” asked Shyla. She got up, went over to a large, potted cactus, and threw up in it. “Sorry,” she said, after she regained her composure and settled back in beside us.

“You don’t need to apologize,” I said, noticing one of the assistants efficiently hauling the cactus away on a dolly.

“Anyway, so then we all went hiking up a mountain for the past several hours, in the heat. It was terrible. Really terrible. Then on our way back we all had to stop for a ‘romantic view and champagne moment’ with Bellamy.” She put this in little finger quotes and rolled her eyes. “Each of us got about two minutes with him, downed some champagne, looked out at the ocean, and got shoved on through so the next girl could have her moment. I’ve had a migraine for hours. I think I’m going to lie down now. See you at the cocktail party.”

“Feel better,” I said.

“I’ll try.” She staggered away while making retching noises into her shoulder blade.

“Poor thing,” said Vanessa.