Hot For Teacher

"And I'm saying, you don't have to cook for us all the time."

"Well I'm saying, forget that, I'm cooking right now."

Abby rubbed her eyes, walking into the kitchen were Becca and Turner were bickering over who got the privilege of making breakfast. Turner was standing in front of the stove with a spatula, while Becca was standing next to a carton of eggs and a bowl.

"You can wish food up here whenever you want," Becca retorted, her hand on her hip. "You had to go to another reality yesterday. I can spoil my boyfriend sometimes by cooking for him after he's had a bad day, can I not?"

“That's not the point,” Turner said, placing the spatula down on the stove. “You're always cooking, even when we were back at home.”

“And you're always trying to stop me.”

“Because you don't have to!”

“Neither do you!” Becca exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "You work right now! I'm just a student! Right here, you're in charge of managing the emotions of eleven women! I told you to give some of that up to me and you wouldn't, so the least you can do is let me make you some damn eggs!"

Abby leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching the two of them argue. Yesterday, she'd watched an alternate version of herself who hadn't had a good day in the last several weeks. She'd watched Turner disappear into Alternate Becca's room and come back to the reality they were in as if he'd watched the worst movie in existence, and wouldn't tell her what happened. And now, less than a day later, the two of them were arguing about eggs.

"Are you two seriously fighting over breakfast?" Abby asked.

"We're not fighting," Becca said immediately.

"We're negotiating," Turner corrected.

"Well that's some aggressive negotiating," Abby chuckled. "They teach you how to do that in analyst school?"

Becca rolled her eyes. "Apparently they don't teach you how to let your girlfriend pamper you."

Abby sighed. This was going to be a long morning. Despite everything that had happened yesterday, her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten much since the boating date. While Becca and Turner were talking the night before, she'd made herself busy in the kitchen and made supper, but found that she wasn't really hungry after what she had been through. All three of them basically passed out from exhaustion late that night, no time for any fun date-like activities.

"You hungry?" Becca asked hopefully as her sister sat down.

"A little."

"I'll make you something."

Turner immediately pointed the spatula at her.

"See?"

"Oh, shut up," Becca scoffed. "You're gonna sit down too, I'm gonna make you some food, and you're gonna like it."

"You guys are weird," Abby laughed as she leaned back in the chair, content that this was the reality she was able to be in.

---

It had been almost two weeks now since the last real conversation, the one that hadn't ended in silence or a door closing a little too firmly. Mandy had told herself it was fine. Lana needed space, something that she had willingly gifted her as a teenager. This was no different than when Lana was trying to go to college, and Mandy was failing to convince her to go somewhere nearby just in case. Unfortunately, there was no prior experience she could build on for this exact situation.

Mandy had never once in her life been good at waiting for someone else to come to her. She'd built a career out of not waiting. Out of picking up the phone, walking into the office, making the ask before somebody else could make it first. Her sister had always been the carefree type and made Mandy into the responsible type, something that was biting her in the ass right now when she felt the urge to fix things with her own daughter.

Someone knocked at the door to her and Emma's bungalow.

"It's open," she called.

Emma poked her head in, making sure it was safe to enter before stepping in fully.

"Ooh, someone's dressed up," Emma said, grinning.

"I'm always somewhat dressed up, dear," Mandy said, standing and smoothing down her blouse. "Some of us didn't have the luxury of growing up in athleisure."

"Athleisure is a lifestyle, not a luxury," Emma said, flopping down onto the edge of the bed. "Plus, I'm in college, let me live in my shorts and tank tops."

"Laugh it up," she said, reaching for an earring. "You'll understand when you're forty-six and showing up to client dinners in the same blazer you wore to your own wedding."

"I'm never getting married," Emma said cheerfully, "so I guess I'm safe."

Mandy froze for a second. She wasn't super close with Emma, but knew her well enough to see through her thinly-veiled desire for Turner.

"Not even to Turner?" she bluntly asked.

"With the way this show is going?" Emma laughed darkly. "I'll be lucky if I don't get eliminated at this point."

She wanted to reassure Emma, she really did, but the threat of elimination took over. Mandy thought back to her own daughter, Lana, and how she had been free-falling in victory points throughout the past few challenges. It was one thing to watch Lana struggle with a game that seemed determined to punish her for being herself. It was another to realize that Mandy was running out of ways to help her.

Not that Lana would appreciate the help, of course.

"Well, you haven't been eliminated yet," she said. "And I hardly think it's productive to start planning your wedding when you haven't even secured your place in the competition."

Emma stared at her. "That was supposed to be reassuring, wasn't it?"

"Nope, just being practical."

"Right. Forgot who I was talking to."

Mandy smiled despite herself, returning to the mirror to finish putting on her earrings. "Besides, you have plenty of time to figure out what you want. You're young."

"Young enough to be constantly reminded that I'm young, apparently."

Mandy laughed softly. Emma had a way of making it difficult to remain stern with her. She was impulsive, frequently distracted, and seemed to regard the idea of consequences as an invitation to see what happened. Mandy could hardly imagine having behaved that way at Emma's age. Then again, she rarely had been given the opportunity.

At twenty, she'd already been working full-time, trying to prove she knew what she was doing. She'd learned quickly that competence wasn't enough, you had to look competent, sound competent, and make sure everyone in the room knew you were the person who could be relied upon in case of emergency. She'd spent the better part of her life making herself indispensable. Now she was living in a tropical resort where people could change your entire personality based on the entertainment ratings of strangers.

"Anyway," Emma continued, drawing Mandy out of her thoughts, "where are you going all dressed up?"

"A date with Turner tonight." Mandy fastened the clasp of her bracelet. "But first, I have a meeting."

"With who?"

"Paige."

Emma's face involuntarily contorted at the mention of Paige. Since the start of the round, she had been worrying about having a run-in with her thanks to her Unpredictable transformation. She knew Paige would stop at nothing to take advantage of that in some way, especially now that she knew two of the words.

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Paige? As in, Paige Paige?”

Mandy rolled her eyes at Emma through the mirror. “I'm not aware of another Paige on the island.”

“Right, but why are you meeting with her?”

“Business.”

Emma waited.

Mandy finished adjusting her bracelet, then turned around. “What?”

“That's it? Just business?”

“Would you prefer a presentation with visual aids?”

“No, but I would prefer to know whether I should be worried about you.”

Mandy blinked. “Worried about me?”

“Yeah. Because, no offense, but Paige is kind of…” Emma waved a hand vaguely. “Paige.”

“An insightful observation.”

“You know what I mean! She's been on a warpath lately. Specifically with my transformation, I don't exactly have the luxury of being around her without worrying that she's going to say one of the words she knows.”

Mandy's expression softened, though only a little. “Well...I don't have a transformation like that myself. I assure you that I am perfectly capable of handling myself around Paige.”

“That's what everybody says right before Paige does something Paige-like.”

“Emma.”

“Okay, okay.” Emma raised both hands. “I'll stop. But seriously, just be careful. I reckon you've got some sort of alliance with her for whatever reason, but know that she'll throw you to the ground if it means she can win.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Mandy hastily replied, picking up her handbag. “I'll keep it in mind.”

Emma studied her for another moment, apparently unconvinced that Mandy had taken her advice seriously. Then she stood up and stretched.

“Well, good luck with your meeting. And your date tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, and Mandy?”

“Yes?”

“If Paige starts acting crazy, just remember that you don't have to put up with it.”

Mandy watched her leave, the door swinging shut behind her.

She wished the matter were that simple.

For the past couple of weeks, she'd been telling herself that her alliance with Paige was a sensible arrangement. They had overlapping interests, a mutual desire to avoid elimination, and weren't the fan favorites, who were banding together to prevent falling by the wayside. Paige was sharp, ambitious, and resourceful. Mandy respected those qualities, even if she didn't always approve of how Paige used them.

But lately, she'd begun to wonder whether she'd mistaken Paige's willingness to cooperate for an actual commitment to the alliance.

An alliance was supposed to provide stability. It was supposed to give its members someone they could rely on when the game turned against them. Instead, Mandy had spent the last few days worrying about whether Paige would decide that an ally was simply another obstacle to remove.

Paige's temper had always been an issue. Mandy had noticed it from the beginning, the way a minor inconvenience could become a personal affront and a disagreement could turn into a campaign to prove the other person wrong. At first, she'd considered it a manageable flaw. Paige was emotional, yes, but she was also intelligent enough to understand when cooperation served her interests.

Recently, however, the balance seemed to be shifting. Paige was growing more volatile, more willing to act on impulse, and less interested in considering how her behavior might affect the people around her. The competition had brought out her worst qualities, and Mandy wasn't sure Paige even recognized that they were becoming liabilities.

Or perhaps she did recognize them and simply didn't care, which was even more harrowing.

---

After Mandy knocked on Paige's door and got the classic "just a minute", she opted to meet her in neutral territory at the commons. A few minutes after leaving Paige's bungalow, the girl in question dropped into the chair across from her, wearing her traditional smirk.

"Looking good," Paige remarked, glancing over Mandy's blouse and jewelry. "You've dressed for the occasion."

"I have a date with Turner this evening."

"Right. Your date. How exciting."

"Indeed. Though I don't believe that's what we're here to discuss."

"Of course not." Paige leaned back, stretching her arms over the back of the booth like she owned the place. "Why would you want to discuss dating my ex-boyfriend with me?"

Mandy folded her hands on the table. "I wanted to talk about our alliance."

Paige tilted her head. "You sound concerned."

"I am concerned."

"About me?"

"About the alliance."

"Which is apparently the same thing, given that Lauren is nowhere to be found here."

Mandy let that remark pass.

"Paige, we've been working together for a while now, and I believe the arrangement has been beneficial to both of us. However, I've noticed a change in your behavior lately. You're more confrontational than usual, and you're taking risks that could easily have consequences for both of us."

"Such as?"

"Such as antagonizing people who might otherwise be willing to work with you, like Anastasia. Such as acting on your frustrations without considering whether the result will actually help you. And most importantly, treating the people around you as though they're either useful or disposable."

Paige's smirk disappeared. "Well, excuse me for playing the game."

"That's not what I said."

"No, but it's what you meant." Paige leaned forward, her voice sharpening. "You want me to be nice. You want me to smile at everyone, make friends, and pretend this is some sort of summer camp where we all get along and sing songs around a bonfire. Meanwhile, the people who are actually playing the game are going to leave me behind."

Mandy sighed. "Look, I understand that this competition encourages people to be selfish. I understand that everyone is looking out for themselves, and that sometimes you have to make decisions that aren't going to win you any friends. But there's a difference between playing strategically and making enemies for the sake of making enemies."

"And who says I'm making enemies for the sake of it?"

"You've been picking fights with people who haven't done anything to you."

"Maybe they've done plenty that you don't know about."

"Then tell me."

Mandy watched as Paige's face twisted, trying to wrack her brain for a reason. Why had she come in guns-blazing and gotten in an argument with some of these people? Some were fairly obvious: Becca was a lying, gold-digging bitch who had stolen her man, Emma was sickeningly endearing and not willing to work with her, but the rest? She didn't have an answer.

"That's what I thought," Mandy said after a few seconds of silence.

"Oh, don't start congratulating yourself just yet." Paige crossed her arms. "You want to know what I think? I think you're getting too comfortable. You're sitting here in your nice blouse, planning your nice little date with Turner that isn't gonna press any boundaries because you're gifted at the challenge part of this game, and you think you can afford to spend all your time worrying about whether everyone is getting along."

For a moment, Mandy considered pressing the point. She'd spent most of her adult life negotiating with people who mistook a calm voice for weakness, and Paige was rapidly proving to be one of them. The girl had a remarkable talent for taking any criticism, no matter how carefully phrased, and turning it into an attack on her character.

“I'm trying to understand what you want out of this alliance,” she said. “Because lately, I'm not sure you want an alliance at all. You seem to want someone who'll agree with you, support every decision you make, and never question your judgment.”

Paige leaned back again, but this time her smirk looked a little less secure.

“Maybe I'm just tired of pretending this is anything other than what it is,” she muttered.

“And what is it?”

Paige gestured vaguely toward the surrounding resort. “This whole place. The challenges. The transformations. The audience deciding what happens to us. Turner at the center of it all, and the rest of us scrambling around trying to impress him. You can't tell me this is a normal competition.”

“Of course it isn't.”

“Then why should I play nice?”

“Because playing well and playing nicely aren't mutually exclusive.”

Paige stared at her, but Mandy continued before she could interrupt. “You can be ambitious without being cruel. You can be competitive without alienating everyone around you. And you can pursue what you want without treating everyone else as though they're standing in your way.”

For a few seconds, Paige said nothing. Then, bewilderingly, she laughed.

“God, you really believe that, don't you?”

“I do.”

“That's adorable.”

Mandy's expression hardened. “Paige.”

“No, I'm serious.” Paige sat forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You really think there's some ideal way to play this game. Some balance between ambition and decency that everyone can agree on. I tried to find that myself. But look around you, Mandy. What do you think the audience wants?”

“Entertainment, presumably.”

“Exactly.” Paige spread her hands. “They don't want us sitting around having mature conversations about our icky feelings. They want jealousy, arguments, betrayals. They want to watch people get pushed into uncomfortable situations and see what happens. They want drama. That's why Kendra keeps changing us. That's why the challenges are designed to make us compete with each other. That's why Turner gets to sit in the middle of all this while we fight over his attention.”

Mandy frowned. “You're making a rather large assumption about what the audience wants, when you know nothing about them.”

“Am I? You and I have both been here long enough to know that the audience has a say in what happens to us, and it's pretty clear to derive what exactly they want based on their voting patterns.”

“Which is precisely why we should be careful.”

“Or,” Paige countered, her smile returning, “it's why we should give them what they want.”

Paige had always understood that the competition wasn't simply about earning points or securing a place beside Turner. It was a performance, and the audience was watching. But she'd generally thought of that as an unfortunate reality to be endured, something she could manipulate without allowing it to change her. Now, as she considered the possibility of embracing the spectacle instead of fighting it, a peculiar warmth began to spread through her chest.

"What the hell?" she thought as she shifted in her seat.

For the first time, Paige found herself considering how much fun it might be to stop resisting the show's more outrageous elements and simply enjoy them.

The thought was startling enough that she almost dismissed it outright. Paige Brooks had spent weeks railing against the absurdity of the competition, the humiliations, the manipulations, and the ways Kendra seemed determined to make her into a character in Turner's fantasy. She wasn't about to start pretending that any of it was acceptable.

"Except...What if it didn't have to be acceptable to be enjoyable?"

“You know,” Paige said slowly, “maybe you're right about one thing.”

Mandy raised an eyebrow. “Only one?”

“Maybe I've been approaching this all wrong,” Paige grinned. “Maybe I've been spending so much time getting angry about the game that I've forgotten what makes it a game in the first place.”

“And that would be?”

Paige hesitated. The answer was obvious, and yet it was one she'd never wanted to acknowledge. This wasn't a conventional competition with a trophy waiting at the end. The show had been built around Turner's relationships with the contestants, and its transformations could make even the most mundane encounter into something intimate, embarrassing, or scandalous.

“Sex,” Paige said at last.

Mandy blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Sex. Attraction. Seduction. All the stuff people keeps dancing around.” Paige waved a hand toward the resort. “Come on. It's practically the whole premise. We have a bachelor...well, he has a girlfriend, but she's nothing more than a speed bump at this point...a bunch of women competing for his affection, and a host who seems to think personal boundaries are optional. Sara, the only contestant who's openly banged the guy at this point, is in first place. What'd you expect?”

“Paige, I'm not sure I follow your reasoning.”

“I'm saying maybe we should stop acting like the show's trying to trick us into something and start acknowledging what it actually is.”

Mandy studied her carefully. “And what do you intend to do with that realization?”

Paige's grin widened.

“Have a little fun.”

The words came out more easily than she'd expected. Even saying them gave her a small thrill, a sense of anticipation that made her cheeks feel warmer. She'd always been comfortable with flirting when it suited her. She knew how to use charm, how to make a pointed remark sound like an invitation, and how to turn someone's attention into a weapon. But there was a difference between using attraction as a tool and embracing it for its own sake.

“I'm not suggesting you have to throw yourself at Turner,” she continued. “Or anybody else, for that matter. I'm just saying that if the show's going to keep putting us in these situations, maybe we should stop treating every single one like a personal affront.”

Mandy's brow furrowed. “You're acting like these aren't people's lives you're talking about playing with."

Paige smirked. “Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're scandalized by the suggestion like an old maiden from the 1800's.”

“I'm not scandalized. I'm trying to determine whether you've thought this through.”

“You really are incapable of switching off the businesswoman act, aren't you?”

“It's served me well.”

“I'm sure it has.”

Mandy was about to continue when a strange sensation passed through her head. It wasn't pain, exactly. More like the momentary pressure of trying to remember a word. She blinked and straightened, suddenly aware that Paige was talking again.

“...and honestly, I don't see why people make such a big deal out of sex anyway.”

Mandy frowned. “I'm sorry?”

Paige shrugged. “You know. It's sex. People do it. People talk about it. The show's practically built around it. Why does everyone have to act so weird whenever it comes up?”

Mandy opened her mouth to answer, but a thought had occurred to her. An oddly specific thought, complete with a sense of familiarity she couldn't account for. Sexual health. Communication. Consent. Different forms of intimacy. The importance of understanding one's own boundaries and respecting someone else's.

She knew those things, of course. Everyone knew the basics.

Except the knowledge arriving in her mind wasn't merely a collection of general principles. It was detailed, organized, and accompanied by the peculiar confidence of someone who had studied the subject extensively. She could suddenly recall terminology she didn't remember learning, explanations of physical responses, and distinctions between common misconceptions and established facts.

The information seemed to arrange itself effortlessly, like files being sorted into a cabinet she'd never known she possessed.

"Where did that come from?" Mandy blinked, as if that would factory reset her mind.

“Anyway,” Paige continued, oblivious, “you'd think people would be more open about it. Especially here.”

“That's...a fair point,” Mandy said slowly.

She could have left it at that. It would have been perfectly reasonable to agree and move on. Instead, she found herself wanting to explain why open communication mattered, why people often misunderstood their own expectations, and why assumptions could make intimate situations uncomfortable for everyone involved. The urge was so strong that she actually had to clasp her hands together to keep from launching into a lecture.

"Good heavens. Get a grip."

“Although,” she added, despite herself, “there is a difference between being open about sex and treating it as though there are no consequences. People need to understand consent, communication, and the importance of respecting boundaries. Those things don't become less important simply because a situation is supposed to be entertaining.”

Paige stared at her. Mandy stared back. Then Paige slowly broke into a grin.

“Oh, this is interesting.”

“What is?”

“You just went from being the person who wanted to discuss my attitude toward the game to giving me a lecture on sexual responsibility.”

Mandy frowned, trying to reconstruct exactly how she'd arrived at it. “Well, it's an important subject.”

“Sure it is.” Paige leaned forward. “But where did all that come from? You sounded like you were about to hand me a pamphlet.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Really? Because you suddenly seem to know an awful lot about sex.”

Mandy's face warmed.

“I am a grown woman, Paige. I have a daughter, for Pete's sake. I don't think it's remarkable that I'm familiar with the subject.”

She knew the second that left her mouth that it was a lie. Throughout the course of the game, Mandy had been relatively untouched when it came to bearing the brunt of Kendra's transformations; her near-constant top finishes had ensured that. However, this was feeling similar to the time Kathryn had stopped her in the middle of the challenge and asked for her advice, it was bubbling up to the top of her mind without any repression.

"Actually," Paige said, tapping one finger against the table, "I think you're making my point for me."

Mandy gave her a skeptical look. "Am I?"

"Sure. You're saying we should understand what we're doing instead of blindly following the show's lead. Fine. I agree. But that doesn't mean we have to spend the whole time being miserable about it."

"Enjoyment isn't the same as recklessness."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

For a moment, they sat in silence. Around them, the commons bustled with the usual morning activity. Kathryn, Sara, and Phoebe were talking away like old friends, which to be fair, at least two of them were. Abby had come down from the penthouse and was lazing around, watching TV. The resort was carrying on as though nothing unusual had happened yesterday, or the day before that, or any of the days before those.

Paige watched the passing contestants. Aside from Lauren, they all had a much better life outside than inside this show, something that they could wish to go back to before this whole mess started. But Paige? She would have to go back to working at Kroger for ten-hour shifts, wondering when she was going to get her big break. Why not enjoy the time she had here?

"Good grief. Am I actually starting to like this place?"

The possibility was so ridiculous that she nearly laughed.

"Well, good luck on your date, Mandy," Paige brushed that thought off. "I know you're gonna spend all that time doing a whole lotta nothing."