Page 52 of The Baking Games

"Okay, let's get started," the producer says. They never waste any time because this is a reality show, and it's supposed to seem real. They can't interact with us or ask us how things are going unless cameras are rolling to catch it. They can't have normal conversations with us. It's all about the show. "So, Savannah, how do you feel after another loss today?"

"Well, that makes me feel good to hear you say,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Connor won fair and square. His dessert was better than ours. Plain and simple." I try to brush it off, but what I really want to say is that Connor is a jerk, and he should win nothing and be kicked off the show and kicked out of the United States and maybe kicked off the planet. But I just smile.

"What about you, Rhett? Do you feel like working with Savannah caused you to lose the challenge?" I can see Rhett's face turning a shade of red I haven't seen before. I feel his pinky nail dig into the side of my leg. I don't even know if he realizes he's doing that. I mean, we’re sitting close together.

"No, absolutely not. Savannah had a great idea, but we were just beaten by a better idea. It’s really as simple as that.”

"So we saw something interesting from the two of you earlier today." Here it comes. The dishes, the water on the floor, the giggling like two children.

"Oh, yeah. What's that?" Rhett says.

"It seems that you overflowed the kitchen sink and ended up in quite a predicament on the floor." She smiles like she's got inside information. It's not inside information. It was broadcast online in real-time and will likely be on tonight’s taped show for TV viewers to enjoy.

"Accidents happen," Rhett says, crossing his arms and pulling my arm straight up in the air. When he realizes what he is doing, he drops his arms back down by his sides, the edge of his hand brushing against my bare leg. It gives me a shiver that I hope people can't see through their screens.

"Would you call it an accident, Savannah, or do you think maybe Rhett purposefully overflowed the sink so you two could roll around together on the floor?"

I stare at her with my mouth hanging open. "What? Why would anyone do something like that?"

"Our audience seems to think there's something romantic going on between the two of you. They're quite mesmerized by it, to be honest." This is interesting. The producers aren't supposed to tell us stuff like that; at least, I didn't think so.

"Again, there is no romance going on between me and Rhett," I say, looking over at him. He doesn't make eye contact. He wants there to be a fake romance, but I don't see the point.

"Are you sure? You two seem to have some great chemistry."

"I don't know how anyone is seeing that. It was just funny that we slipped and fell in the water. It was pretty soapy."

"Still, it seems like something might be going on between you two. Why don't you want to admit it?"

Rhett has finally had enough. “Look, Savannah says nothing is going on, which means nothing is going on." He stares at the camera. There's a long, awkward silence.

"Okay, then, well, I guess we're finished here," the producer says, looking down at her notes. We both stand up, walk out of the room, and head straight up the stairs. I can tell Rhett is bothered but can’t say anything. The confessional is private. Only the audience at home sees it. We can't talk about what we said in the confessional on camera. We can't talk about much of anything on camera.

Suddenly, he takes a detour into one of the hallway bathrooms.

"Do you need to go?" I ask.

"Yeah, come on," he says, pulling me into the bathroom with him before the cameraman down the hallway can spot us. Sometimes, we’re being filmed just by moving cameras on the walls. Other times, there are actual camera people following us around, depending on what shots they need to get. Somehow, he managed to get us into the bathroom without us being seen by one of those people, but I'm sure the cameras on the wall just caught that.

Usually, we get one of the producers to unchain us before going to the bathroom. But this time, he pulls me in with him and shuts the door.

"What are you doing? We can get unchained. Wait, is this like an… emergency?" I say, scrunching up my nose.

"No, I don't have to go to the bathroom," he says after taking his mic off and reaching around to take mine from my lower back. My skin prickles.

"Then why are we in here?"

"Because I need to talk to you," he says, pulling us closer to the corner. Now we're standing face to face, just an inch or so between our noses.

"Did you hear what they were asking us?"

"Of course I did. I was sitting right beside you."

"Do you see how they're focused on thinking we're in some sort of a relationship?"

"Yes, I know. The audience has a vivid imagination, apparently."

"Well, I still think that you need to consider us playing into that. We will definitely get further in this competition if we do."