We'd Hurt Each Other With the Things We'd Want to Say

As Mandy and Turner's date concluded, a different kind of quiet settled over the bungalow shared by Becca and Paige. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a residue of the past and the uncertainty of the future. Becca, now free from her **** transformation but still navigating the aftermath, sat on the edge of her bed, her gaze fixed on the floor. Paige, typically boisterous, was uncharacteristically subdued, pacing restlessly.

"So," Paige ventured. "You moving out?"

"Really? That's your first thought?" Becca responded, silently a bit happy that her and Paige's relationship was back to its old, bickering ways.

"Well, yeah, you were with Abby last night," Paige flatly said. "And it's not like you have to stay with me anymore. I know full well you don't want to."

"Yeah, that is true," Becca conceded. "Especially since I could stay with Turner."

"Well, have a nice life," Paige dismissively waved. "I'll see you around."

"Um, I'm still here," Becca raised an eyebrow. "I'm staying here tonight."

Paige stopped pacing, her brow furrowed. "You are?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. "But... why? I thought you'd want to be with Turner, or at least back with Abby."

"I do," Becca admitted, her gaze softening. "But I also... I don't know. I feel like I need some time to figure things out. And... well, I don't want to leave you alone."

Paige scoffed, a flicker of her usual bravado returning. "Alone? I'm fine on my own. I don't need anyone."

"Yeah right," Becca returned Paige's scoff with one of her own. "You've been living alone for what is it, a year now? And that's resulted in your amazing dream job ringing up people's groceries."

Paige's face flushed, a mixture of anger and embarrassment flashing across her features. "That's different!" she retorted, her voice sharp. "I like my job."

"Sure you do," Becca said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "And I'm sure you enjoy living in that tiny apartment with the leaky faucet and the questionable neighbors."

"Hey!" Paige protested, her cheeks burning. "It's not that bad. Besides, I'm saving up for something better."

"Right," Becca said, her voice laced with skepticism. "And what exactly are you saving up for? A lifetime supply of instant ramen?"

"That's none of your business," Paige snapped, turning away. "Just leave me alone."

"I'm not trying to be mean," Becca said, her voice softening. "I'm just saying... you don't have to pretend with me, Paige. We've known each other too long for that."

Paige hesitated, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "It's just... I'm used to it. Putting on a show, pretending I have it all together. It's easier that way."

"Easier for who?" Becca asked, her gaze unwavering. "Because it doesn't seem to be making you happy."

"It was a stupid thing of mine," Paige's face reddened. "Back when you were hogging all of Turner's energy..."

"Hogging?" Becca incredulously laughed. "He was my boyfriend. He's your ex-boyfriend. That's hardly hogging."

"Like I was saying..." Paige continued, Becca's interruption not fazing her one bit. "I thought that if I had a really modest lifestyle and he came back to me, it'd be because of me. Not because of some status symbol or whatever, but because he truly liked me."

"That's...stupid," Becca said.

"Thanks," Paige retorted, rolling her eyes. "But it was my stupid plan, and I was sticking to it."

"That doesn't mean I'm not allowed to call it stupid," Becca pressed.

"Now that's the Becca I know," Paige cracked a smile. "Never letting me have the last word in an argument, even if she's just repeating what she said."

"Someone has to keep you in check," Becca retorted, a playful grin spreading across her face. "Otherwise, you'd be running around thinking you're the queen of the world."

"And what's wrong with that?" Paige asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'd make a pretty good queen."

"You'd be a terrible queen," Becca countered, shaking her head. "You'd be too impulsive, too reckless. You'd start a war over something stupid someone said."

"I'd be the one doing that?" Paige brought a hand to her chest. "You're the one who's yelled at people like Kendra before."

"That's completely different!" Becca's face started turning red.

"Oh, is it?" Paige asked, her voice laced with amusement. "Because last time I checked, you were the one who almost got turned into a… what do they call it, a cuckquean?"

"That's not funny," Becca said, her voice sharp. "And it's not the same thing. I was standing up for myself, for all of us."

"And I wouldn't?" Paige countered, her voice equally sharp. "I've been standing up for myself since the day I met you. I just don't need to yell about it every five minutes."

"Oh, so now you're the quiet, stoic type?" Becca asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's a new one."

"I'm not the one who's always screaming at the top of my lungs," Paige retorted, her cheeks flushed. "I prefer to handle things with a little more… finesse."

"Finesse?" Becca scoffed. "You? The girl who once challenged a football player to an arm-wrestling match?"

"He insulted my shoes!" Paige protested, her voice rising. "They were new!"

"And you almost got your arm broken," Becca responded, her voice deadpan. "As I was saying. Finesse."

"Yep," Paige chuckled. "Good to have you back."

"Whatever," Becca gruffly responded, laying down on the bed and turning on her side.

Abby, perched on the edge of her bed, watched Lana enter the bungalow, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. Lana, usually subdued, seemed even more so, her shoulders slumped slightly. Abby didn't know the girl that well, especially how she acted more recently, but she could tell something was off.

"Hey," Abby said softly, breaking the silence. "How did it go?"

Lana sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It was… fine," she replied, her voice flat. "As fine as it could be, I guess."

"Just fine?" Abby raised an eyebrow, sensing something was amiss. "That doesn't sound very convincing."

Lana hesitated, her gaze drifting towards the window. "It's not you, Abby," she said, her voice laced with weariness. "It's just… everything. The date, my mom, this whole place."

"Your mom?" Abby asked, her brow furrowed. "What happened with her?"

"We talked," Lana said, her voice tight. "Or, rather, we tried to. It was… complicated."

"Woah, you finally got the stones to talk to her?" Abby leaned forward, suddenly a lot more interested. She'd been helping Lana avoid her mother, at the girl's request, but had been openly against the lack of communication between the mother-daughter duo.

Lana gave Abby a sharp look. "It wasn't about 'stones,' Abby. It was about… trying to understand. Trying to figure out if there was anything left to understand."

"And?" Abby pressed, her curiosity piqued. "Was there?"

"She acted like I was some kind of… experiment gone wrong," Lana muttered, her voice laced with bitterness. "Like I was a problem to be solved."

"Mothers are like that," Abby sighed, thinking about her own mother and the constant push and pull of their relationship. "They want to protect you, even if they don't always know how. Sometimes they mess up, big time. But that doesn't mean they don't love you."

"Love?" Lana scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "If that's love, I'd rather be alone."

"That's a bit harsh, isn't it?" Abby countered, her voice gentle. "I mean, you know she cares, right? Even if she shows it in a... unique way."

Lana shrugged, her gaze fixed on the floor. "Caring isn't enough, Abby. Not when it comes with judgment and control. I need more than that. I need someone who accepts me for who I am, not who they want me to be."

"And you don't think she can do that?" Abby asked, her voice soft.

"I don't know," Lana admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I used to think she could. But now… I'm not so sure."

A comfortable silence settled between them, the weight of Lana's emotional turmoil hanging heavy in the air. Abby watched her, her expression a mix of sympathy and understanding. She knew what it was like to feel lost, to question your place in the world. She also knew that sometimes, the hardest battles were the ones fought within yourself.

"You know," Abby began, breaking the silence, "you don't have to figure it all out tonight. Sometimes, you just need to let yourself feel. Let yourself be angry, or sad, or whatever it is you're feeling. And then, when you're ready, you can start to pick up the pieces."

Lana looked at her, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and skepticism. "That's easy for you to say," she said, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness. "You haven't had to deal with a mother who treats you like a science experiment."

"No," Abby admitted. "But I've had a host here who treated me like a science experiment."

"And I haven't?" Lana rhetorically asked.

"You're right, that was a stupid comparison," Abby sighed. "I know you've had the more difficult time here compared to me."

"It's not a competition," Lana said, her voice soft but firm. "We're all dealing with our own stuff. But sometimes, it feels like I'm the only one who's truly alone."

"You're not alone, Lana," Abby said, her voice sincere. "You have me, you have the others. We're all here for you."

"Yeah, but it's not the same," Lana said, her gaze drifting towards the window. "It's not the same as having a family, someone who's supposed to be there for you, no matter what."

"I get that," Abby said, her voice gentle. "But sometimes, family isn't what you're born with. Sometimes, it's what you choose."

Lana looked at her, her eyes searching Abby's. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I mean," Abby said, her smile widening, "that we're your family now, Lana. We're your chosen family. And we're not going anywhere."

Lana's eyes filled with tears, a mixture of sadness and gratitude washing over her features. "Thank you, Abby," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot."

"Anytime, Lana," Abby said, her smile warm and genuine. "Anytime."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of Lana's emotional turmoil slowly lifting. Abby watched her, her expression a mix of sympathy and affection. She knew Lana was strong, resilient, but she also knew she needed support, understanding, and a sense of belonging.

"So," Abby began, breaking the silence, "what are you going to do now?"

Lana hesitated, her gaze drifting towards the ground. "I don't know," she admitted. "I need some time to think, to figure things out."

"That's fair," Abby said, her voice gentle. "But don't shut yourself off again, Lana. Talk to us, let us help you. We're in this together, remember?"

"Yeah," Lana said, a faint smile touching her lips. "Together."

"Good," Abby said, her smile widening. "Now, how about we watch a movie or something? Take our minds off things for a while?"

"That sounds good," Lana agreed, a hint of relief in her voice. "Anything but reality TV, though."

"Deal," Abby chuckled. "I think we've had enough of that for a lifetime."

They settled onto the bed, Abby scrolling through the hotel's movie selection. They chose a lighthearted comedy, something mindless and fun, a welcome distraction from the emotional rollercoaster they'd both been on.

"I don't understand her, Turner," Mandy confessed, her voice laced with frustration. "I try to reach out, to connect, but she just pushes me away."

Mandy and Turner were standing out on the infamous balcony of the hotel. The one where Paige almost had a breakdown. The one where Lauren did have a breakdown. And now, Mandy was airing out her woes about Lana, trying to prevent a breakdown.

Turner nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "She's hurting, Mandy," he said, his voice gentle. "She's confused, angry, and scared. She doesn't know how to deal with all of this, and she's taking it out on you."

"But I'm her mother," Mandy protested, her voice trembling. "I'm supposed to be there for her, to protect her, to guide her. But she won't let me."

"She needs space, Mandy," Turner said, his voice firm. "She needs time to process everything that's happened, to figure out who she is now, who she wants to be."

"But what if she never comes back?" Mandy asked, her voice filled with fear. "What if she loses herself in this… this madness?"

"She won't," Turner said, his gaze unwavering. "She's stronger than you think. She'll find her way back. But you have to let her."

"But how?" Mandy asked, her voice laced with desperation. "How do I let go of someone who's a part of me?"

"You don't let go," Turner said, his voice soft. "You hold on. But you hold on loosely. You give her the space she needs, but you let her know that you're there for her, that you love her, no matter what."

"But what if she doesn't believe me?" Mandy asked, her voice trembling. "What if she thinks I'm just saying that to make myself feel better?"

"Then you show her," Turner said, his gaze meeting hers. "You show her through your actions, through your support, through your unwavering love."

Mandy hesitated, her gaze drifting towards the waves. "I don't know if I can do that," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm so scared, Turner. I'm scared of losing her, of seeing her change into someone I don't recognize."

"I know," Turner said, his voice gentle. "But you have to trust her, Mandy. You have to trust that she'll find her way back to you. And you have to trust yourself, that you'll be there for her when she does."

"How can you be so sure of this?" Mandy responded after a moment of hesitation. "Compared to me, you're just a kid."

"A kid who was best friends with Lana, I think you're forgetting," Turner reminded her.

"Right, right," Mandy conceded, a faint smile touching her lips. "Sorry, I didn't mean to… diminish your experience."

"It's alright," Turner said, his smile widening. "But seriously, I've known Lana for a long time. She's resilient, she's smart, and she's got a good heart. She'll figure this out."

"And what about me?" Mandy asked, her voice soft. "Do you think I'll figure this out?"

"You already are," Turner said, his gaze unwavering. "You're here, you're trying, you're admitting your mistakes. That's more than half the battle."

Mandy looked at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Turner," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd figure it out," Turner said, his smile warm and genuine. "You're stronger than you think, Mandy. You just have to believe in yourself."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the gentle rhythm of the waves providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Mandy watched Turner, his expression a mix of wisdom and kindness. She felt a surge of admiration for him, for his ability to see the best in people, even when they couldn't see it in themselves.

"You know," Mandy began, breaking the silence, "you're a good kid, Turner."

"You're not so bad yourself," Turner replied in tandem, his gaze meeting hers.

"And you're a good boyfriend, too," Mandy added, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Even if you are a bit… distracted at the moment."

Turner chuckled, a hint of his usual playful demeanor returning. "Hey, I'm trying my best," he said, raising his hands in mock defense. "It's not easy juggling multiple relationships in this… environment."

"I know," Mandy said, her smile widening. "But you're doing a good job. And Becca's lucky to have you."

"And I'm lucky to have her," Turner said, his gaze softening. "And Sara, and everyone else."

"That sentence wouldn't make sense anywhere else, would it?" Mandy rhetorically asked, gazing wistfully out to the landscape in front of them.

"Hey, you'd be surprised," Turner defended.

"Perhaps I am being too old fashioned," Mandy conceded. "But you can't deny that this place has brought plenty of these people together in ways that never would've happened before. I mean, exhibit A, you and I."

"It really is strange," Turner agreed. "How something so artificial can be so raw, and so real."

"Maybe it's not the place that creates the connections," Mandy suggested, her voice thoughtful. "Maybe it's the people. The shared experiences, the vulnerabilities, the… humanity."

"Maybe," Turner said, his gaze meeting hers. "Or maybe it's a little bit of both. This place forces us to confront ourselves, to confront each other. It strips away the masks, the pretenses, and leaves us with… this."

He gestured around them, encompassing the hotel, the island, the surreal reality they found themselves in.

"This," Mandy echoed, her voice barely a whisper. "What is this, Turner?"

"Honestly? I wish I knew," Turner blushed slightly.

They stood in silence for a moment, the unspoken weight of their shared hope hanging heavy in the air. The gentle rhythm of the wind provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation, a reminder of the constant, ever-changing nature of their reality.

"Who's slated to be your date tomorrow?" Mandy asked. "I know it was supposed to be Becca, but is that going to happen now that she's eliminated?"

"She's not gone though," Turner countered.

"But to be frank, you can now go on a date whenever you want with her, and what's she competing for?" Mandy reasoned.

"Well I never," Turner said in a voice unintentionally mocking Kendra's. "You think I wouldn't take an opportunity to go on a date with my girlfriend? After you just said all those nice things about how good of a boyfriend I was?"

"I didn't say that," Mandy clarified. "I'm just not sure if Kendra would share that sentiment."

"Oh, good point," Turner looked more downcast.

"Hey, not like she's made the decision," Mandy said, trying to cheer up Turner. "And even if tomorrow does end up being your date with Abby instead, it's not like you're not able to go on like a daytime date with Becca. I'm sure Abby would be willing to sacrifice some of her time for her sister."

"Yeah, you're right," Turner said, a flicker of hope returning to his eyes. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see what Kendra has planned."

"Speaking of Kendra," Mandy said, her gaze drifting towards the hotel's entrance, "I wonder what she's doing right now. Probably scheming up some new way to torment us."

"Or maybe she's finally taking a break," Turner suggested, a hint of optimism in his voice. "Maybe she's realized that we're not just puppets, that we're people with feelings and emotions."

"That would be a first," Mandy said, a hint of skepticism in her voice. "But I wouldn't hold my breath."

"Me neither," Turner admitted, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But a guy can dream, right?"

"Always," Mandy said, her gaze meeting his. "Always."

They stood in silence for a moment, the unspoken weight of their shared hope hanging heavy in the air. The gentle rhythm of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation, a reminder of the constant, ever-changing nature of their reality.

"We should probably head back inside," Mandy said, breaking the silence. "It's getting late, and I'm starting to feel a chill. And if you do end up going on two dates tomorrow, you're gonna need the energy for it."

"Yeah, you raise some good points," Turner assented.

They both headed inside, closing the balcony door behind them. Inside, the hotel's meticulously regulated climate, a constant, gentle hum of warmth, enveloped them like a comforting embrace, a stark and welcome contrast to the increasingly crisp, almost biting, air that had begun to seep in from the darkening seascape beyond.