Chapter Text
Noelle doesn’t know what the hell she was expecting when she took the job offer of Chris’s personal assistant just days after Action ended. She was completely done with reality TV after the embarrassment of kissing Cody, his desperate attempts to talk to her afterwards, and her elimination she orchestrated just slightly on purpose. She signed up for Total Drama Island just for a summer away from her family—and hell, the prize money could go nicely into her college fund—not completely avoidable relationship drama and a rescue mission. She really should’ve known better; the show’s called Total Drama, after all.
Oh well, at least watching Hunter lose his god awful mullet back in season one was funny. She made sure to give Lindsay a big high-five for that one.
The bus to the airport hits a particularly nasty bump, one that almost sends Noelle’s head flying into the seat in front of her. She holds back a groan once Owen’s blubbering starts back up again and a very unhelpful Izzy tries to reassure him with how many World War II fighter planes are still intact today. Gwen’s sitting next to her, and the both of them look at each other once DJ starts showing Owen some breathing exercises.
“Are you looking forward to this season at all?” Gwen asks her, glaring at Hunter’s ponytail hanging off the headrest of the front seat.
“Personally I hope we all die before the plane gets a chance to take off,” she deadpans quietly, as to not make Owen pass out. She pats the front pocket of her cargo shorts, making sure her copy of Pride and Prejudice and bag of dog treats—y’know, just in case she comes across a cute puppy, or a worst-case scenario where Owen needs to be bribed to get on the plane—are still intact. “Hopefully they won’t bury me and Cody in a couple’s coffin.”
The goth winces, knowing the full extent of Noelle’s words. She sneaks a glance at Cody, sitting next to Harold trying to show off his yo-yo tricks and failing to catch her and Noelle’s attention. “You broke things off with him after that one Aftermath, right?” she whispers, frowning at Noelle’s responding nod. “I guess the whole rescue mission didn’t really help things.”
She holds back a sigh. She remembers how ecstatic he was when he woke up to a lapful of Noelle. “Hooking up on this show was a mistake,” she groans, rubbing her face. “It’s like we can’t even be friends now.”
“I guess it just takes some time?” Gwen shrugs. “I mean, Trent and I are still friendly, but you were each other’s first… everything. He’s probably gonna be—I dunno, mildly obsessed with you for a little while.”
Thanks Gwen, that totally helps, Noelle mentally snarks. She remembers when Cody got out of his bandages at Playa Des Losers and how she thought that he wasn’t bad to look at. His infatuation with her from one single incident that happened weeks ago hadn’t faded either, since he started following her around the resort like a lost puppy.
Eventually the two struck up a relationship, one Noelle insisted to the brunette was just a fling that he had to keep quiet about. It was nice, having the attention of a guy who actually liked her and didn’t ask her out as a joke. The whole thing, as she should’ve suspected, came crashing down when Cody showed off both her and Gwen’s bras on national television—a bra that she realized went missing the day before, one she didn’t even know he had.
(She got the bra back when the show was over, of course, after Cody was close to tears from her cutting words. She felt a little bad, until she remembered that the people near Cody immediately realized both of them weren’t Gwen’s bras, the cup sizes and styles are different. She’s just thankful she wears so many layers so no one realized it was hers—and that her poker face is so good.)
She and Gwen became friends afterwards in some sort of weird bra solidarity, as everyone had it out for the goth because of the whole Trent thing, and Noelle had it out for everyone else. It was unexpectedly pleasant, having a fellow apathetic loner around. Part of her hopes they’re both on the same team, but she’s not feeling very optimistic about this season.
Noelle shrugs, and Gwen sends her a sympathetic smile before trying to catch Duncan’s attention from across the bus. She props her hand on her face, staring out the window at the slowly approaching steel death-trap Chris will be forcing them in.
This is going to suck.
The bus sputters to a stop.
She can see Chris monologuing to the camera from her window, gesturing wildly to the vastly open sky. A few people stand, her and Gwen included, and line up in the aisle. It makes Noelle think of soldiers getting deployed for duty, sent out to their demise, and it’s enough to make her snicker quietly. Pretty apt comparison.
Unfortunately, the tightly-packed space leads to Cody ending up behind her. “Hey Noelle—”
Noelle tries to focus on Owen yelling something about strawberries outside. “What?”
Cody’s known her for so long that he isn’t intimidated by her blunt tone. “I just wanted to—”
“Aerophobia, from the Latin,” Harold interrupts from the bottom step, pushing up his glasses confidently, “as opposed to aeronausiphobia, the fear of air sickness.”
Noelle sees her chance and takes it. “Keep up the ‘fascinating facts’ and I’m going to be aero-nauseous all over you,” she quips, punctuating the last word with a light shove to Harold’s back. She brushes off her shorts and leggings and walks out of view of the obnoxious camera.
“And returning favorites,” Chris announces, and thankfully it’s enough to distract Cody from bothering her as he waves to the camera, “Noelle, Cody, and—”
“Yo yo yo! This year’s winner is in the house!”
Oh god. Noelle ignores the human trainwreck that is Ezekiel and walks over next to Owen, who’s being comforted by DJ. She raises a stiff hand and awkwardly pats Owen’s arm. “You’ll be okay, big guy,” she begins, then pauses. Fuck, she’s never been good with this shit. “Uh—Chris won't kill us off, Courtney’s lawyers would have his head if he did.”
DJ blinks at her in astonishment and she holds back a wince. That was bad. But Owen must not care, because he immediately wraps her in a bone-crushing hug and says, “You’re the best, little buddy!”
She finds herself smiling softly, looping an arm around Owen’s large neck. She forgot how much she missed him. The last time they got to hang out was the weekend before the Gemmie Awards—he had insisted on taking her to, in his words, the best steakhouse in Toronto and she was forced to track the price of everything he ate in her head. (The bill ended up being over one hundred dollars. Thankfully she only had to cover her meal.)
A glance at her fellow competitors shows Gwen and Hunter squabbling about hair extensions, Duncan making goo-goo eyes at the goth, and Courtney burning holes into the back of his head. Barf. Bridgette, Izzy, Ezekiel, and Tyler are sprawled in front of the bus steps, the surfer girl rubbing her elbow.
“And now to mix things up and keep it all fresh—” Oh right, she’s supposed to be listening, “—we’re adding two new competitors. He’s an honor roll student with a diplomat for a dad and an amazing ability to charm the pants off most species; Alejandro!”
The new guy helps the four of them up, and Noelle unfortunately notices how annoyingly attractive he is. He’s wearing a v-neck, one just as douchey as Hunter’s, for God’s sake. She frowns as almost everyone seems to swoon over him. And slimy. It might be Justin all over again.
The other newbie gasps and starts to hyperventilate as she steps off the bus. Noelle starts to get bored until the new girl—Sierra, Chris introduces—dashes to Cody and squeals, “Oh my gosh, Cody! I’ve dreamt of this moment—only you weren’t wearing a shirt…”
Noelle’s eyes widen and Gwen shoots her a very obvious, shocked glance. She covers her mouth to hide her smile, and it takes everything in her not to burst out laughing at Cody’s disturbed look. Seems like he’s finally getting a taste of his own medicine.
Duncan gasps and brings everyone’s attention to the disaster of a plane. It rolls unsteadily on the runway, nuts and bolts hitting the ground when it finally comes to a complete stop.
It looks even worse up close, she realizes. Chris stands proudly in front of it, showing off the junkyard of parts like he assembled it himself. Which he probably would’ve done, if he didn’t have any interns to throw the job on to.
“Excuse me,” Courtney speaks, “but I’d like to express some concern about the safety of our plane.”
“It’s perfectly safe, bro,” Chris assures, and if as on cue, a side panel suddenly crashes down onto the concrete, nearly crushing a fleeing raccoon. “Now boarding—”
Owen’s sense of safety is immediately shattered by the announcement, as he nearly hits Noelle in the face when his hands shoot up to clutch his hair and shrieks, “No! I can’t ride in that! Call the United Nations! Call a cab! Call my mom! No, I’m not doing this! I’m out! This is unethical—”
CLANG!
Owen falls down by her feet with a mumbled plea for his mother on his lips. There’s a large, concerning bump forming on his head as Chris holds up the frying pan threateningly. “Anyone else got a problem with it?”
“No!”
“Love it!”
“Dibs on the window seat!”
As Chris ushers everyone onto the shoddily built plane, DJ and Noelle try to boost Owen up. DJ has an easier job doing so than her, whose arms shake with the force of her efforts, but they’re still unable to lift him up very high.
“Allow me, señorita.”
It shocks her enough to drop Owen, and Alejandro immediately takes her place. DJ and Alejandro are able to lift the boy with relative ease with the slightest bit of sweat on their brows. “I wouldn’t want a pretty lady such as yourself to get hurt,” Alejandro says with a pleasant smile, hands on Owen’s back as DJ takes his front.
Noelle furrows her brows. “Owen’s my friend. I’m helping,” she scowls, taking her place on his side partially out of spite. Alejandro doesn’t say anything, merely raises an eyebrow, smile melding into a slight smirk.
He’s not going to charm me, she thinks darkly. No way in Hell.
Noelle’s arms are aching by the time Owen is strapped down onto one of the benches, but begrudgingly follows Chris and the rest of the cast to the common area. Ugh. She really wishes Chris was joking about the singing thing—but she knows he isn’t, she read the contract from front to back, the bastard.
“Girls sing, little birdies sing,” Duncan complains, “Duncans do not sing.”
“Is your masculinity that threatened by a little bit of singing?” Noelle snarks, crossing her arms.
Duncan raises a fist, scowling. “Watch it, nerdette.”
Noelle merely raises a judgmental eyebrow. She has five older brothers; Duncan doesn’t scare her, not even when she finally called his bluff and he stole her shorts. Luckily her leggings functioned well as modest undergarments and Courtney had almost ripped his head off when she found out. At least that was entertaining.
The whole cast, sans Courtney, seems to share Duncan’s sentiment, as Chris insists that singing reality shows are ratings gold, so there will be no coaching, rehearsals, or warning for their musical numbers. Wonderful.
Chris gives a rundown of the dining area, Ezekiel immediately cutting in about… winning, or something. Noelle doesn’t really care, but she watches Gwen try to let the prairie boy down gently about his abysmal performance in season one.
“Word! And I spent every minute since makin’ sure that don’t happen again.”
Based on Chris’s annoyance with the boy, she doubts he’ll make it very far.
After Chris tells Zeke off, Leshawna asks for a bathroom. As the group walks off into the next room, Noelle can hear her muffled yelling about a camera in the toilet again. Well, that tells her where the confessional is, at least. She has a feeling she’ll be spending a lot of time in there for some peace and quiet. Based on the interested glint in Alejandro’s eye, he probably thinks the same way.
Their eyes meet. She looks away.
Economy class is just as bad as it was when she came to put Owen on the plane. She sees him restrained and slumped over on an uncomfortable bench, his pile of drool adding to the other puddles of questionable fluid on the floor. Of course, there’s no beds or real accommodations.
“No comfort for losers!”
“OMG Chris, I am just LOL!” Sierra laughs, the suckup.
“We should hit the winner’s compartment, eh?” Ezekiel interjects. “‘Cause I ain’t never gonna sit back here, never!”
Noelle cringes, waving her hand in front of her face. “Is ‘never’ your policy on mouthwash too, homeschool?”
Zeke goes bright red and he quickly smells his breath.
First class is nice. Really nice—way better than she was expecting. She practically sinks into one of the high quality chairs. It’s so soft and comfortable that it’s enough to motivate her into actually trying to win.
“Now this is the kind of accommodation ladies deserve,” Alejandro says to Lindsay, flashing that breathtaking smile.
“They get ladies in first class too?” Lindsay wonders, before her eyes go wide as it hits her. “Oh, me! You meant me!”
Noelle frowns.
“That guy is as smooth as Mama’s gravy,” DJ observes, arms crossed.
“Lindsay’s supposed to like me,” Tyler whines unhappily.
“Nobody can compete with gravy.”
“Lindsay! I can do a handspring!” Tyler lifts his arms and attempts it, failing and landing rather pathetically in front of the two. The athlete groans, Noelle sniggering at his injury.
Lindsay gasps. “Oh my gosh! Poor… I-I’m biding on his name. Oh, oh, I know! Alejandro!”
“That’s my name,” the man in question softly corrects.
”And what a nice name it is… Alejandro! I could say it all day!”
“Please do.”
Noelle’s eyes narrow, and she silently walks off to find that confessional. Unbeknownst to her, Hunter’s eyebrow rises slightly at her retreat.
She’s unable to locate the same bathroom Leshawna used—the plane feels like a giant maze. She finds her way to the cockpit, which seems to function similarly enough to the confessional, albeit with Chef preparing the plane for takeoff in the background.
“I do not trust that guy,” Noelle begins, nostrils flaring. “Buttering up girls just to throw them away the second he squeezes every bit of usefulness out of them? I’ve seen it a million times already.” She pauses, rant fading from her tongue as she looks around the cockpit. “This is pretty nice, actually. A lot cleaner than the toilet.”
“Maybe for you,” Chef interjects, turning away from the control panel, “I’m trying to prep for a flight here.”
Noelle rolls her eyes and turns back to the camera. “Whatever. Anyway, he’s so transparent—to me and the guys, I suppose—so fake, so—”
“Deliciously seductive?”
Her eyes go wide. “Excuse me? No! Absolutely not.”
“Pretty good lookin’ guy, to boot,” Chef shrugs with a smile. “Just sayin’. A man can admire another man’s beauty.”
Noelle groans out of pure aggravation and stomps out of the cockpit, steel-toed boots echoing.
By the time she makes it back to the group, they’ve moved on from first class to a rather luxurious cabin. She can see Lindsay and Sierra visibly ‘ooh’ing at the real wolf fur sofa. Cody stares gobsmacked at the furniture, eyes darting from one piece to the next.
“Whoa, where are we now?” He asks, gaping. “A grand piano? Wood-burning pizza oven? Four person hot tub with LED lights and dancing waters?”
Harold gestures to the hot tub. “How do I win this? My fair Leshawna loves a hot tub!”
“Easy, tiger,” Chris cuts in, voice hard, “these are my quarters and they’re off-limits. Clear?”
“...Crystal.”
“Oh Chris, I heart your limits!”
Noelle sees Hunter roll his eyes.
The group returns to the dining area, Chris standing in the center of the room and clapping his hands. “And that’s pretty much it! I skipped the cargo hold and galley, but I’m sure you’ll find those exciting destinations later when I ‘accidentally’ lock you in them.” Reassuring.
The plane begins to take off, a few people struggling to stay in their seats. Noelle was unfortunate enough to get a seat next to Alejandro and finds herself falling over into his lap. He catches her with ease, smirking. “Are you alright?”
She feels her cheeks heat up and Lindsay and Bridgette staring at her with envy. She glares. “I’ll be much better when you let me go.”
He obeys, smirk still high on his face. She gives him a death stare, hoping it’s as menacing as possible. So self-assured, is what she was planning to say in the confessional. He thinks he’s hot shit, too.
Bridgette looks at the ground. “Is the Earth moving?”
“Nope, we are!” Izzy cackles.
“One more thing,” Chris cuts in, “I’m sure you remember a little something called the elimination ceremony. It takes place right in there, my friends!”
He points at a door, leading them down the hall to a room Noelle is sure she’s going to be well acquainted with. There’s some dingy bleachers with a colorful stage, with two tiki heads framing the exit of the plane. It’s better than tree stumps and a moldy dock, at least.
“If you don’t receive a barf bag full of airline-issued peanuts—” Ew.
“I’ve got a peanut allergy, yo,” Zeke interrupts, raising his hand like he’s in a classroom. “Or, more like a… sensitivity.”
Chris squints, annoyed. “—You will be forced to take the Drop of Shame.”
“Okay, I just don’t like—”
Chris grabs the front of Ezekiel’s hoodie, thoroughly at his wit’s end. “Kinda like this!” He says gleefully, throwing the prairie boy out of the plane. Thankfully they hadn’t taken off yet, so he lands on the runway, likely with bruises forming. Chris pokes his head out the door, and she can’t see Zeke, but can imagine him running to catch up to the plane.
“Hey! Haha, good one, eh!” She can hear him shout over the roaring engines. “Now slow down and let the bling back in, eh!”
“All eliminations are final, bro!” Chris calls before shutting the door.
The cast is silent for a moment before Alejandro, of all people, raises his hand in a way Zeke had a moment prior. “Was that really necessary?”
Chris shrugs. “He was getting on my nerves. And he’ll be fine, the Aftermath crew’ll come collect him soon enough. Now!” He claps his hands. “Let’s get this party started!”
They’re led back to the dining area, Chris scuttling off to his own lush compartment. Noelle gets utterly bored fast and reaches into her cargo shorts for her book. She opens it up at the beginning, as she made sure to pick a novel that wasn’t as fresh in her memory.
“An Austen fan, I see.”
She looks up to see Alejandro sitting back beside her, that faux-smile on his face. “Are you planning to be one of those guys who say that it’s typical of me to read a romance novel?”
“Of course not!” His eyes widen slightly. “Anyone can enjoy them, and those who can’t simply have too cold of a heart.” She raises an eyebrow, and is about to make a quip about her own cold, dead heart until he clears his throat. “Maybe it’s that I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offenses against me.”
“My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever,” she finishes, the quote coming to her quicker than she thought. Now it’s her turn to be surprised. “You read Austen?”
His smirk returns. “Now who’s typical?”
She’s about to shoot a remark back, until she’s cut off by a sudden ding ding! A spotlight (where the hell had that come from?) shines on a very snazzily dressed Chris. “Whenever you hear that friendly little bell,” he begins, twirling a cane around his fingers, “it’s musical number time! Now, let’s hear it!”
They all look at each other for a moment, then Courtney finally bites the bullet and asks, “But… what are we supposed to sing?”
“You have to make it up as you go,” Chris grins darkly. “Wouldn’t be challenging otherwise, now would it?”
They all go quiet for another moment. Courtney stands, beginning with “Up!”
A few other girls follow, harmonizing. “Up, up, up!”
“Sing, sing, sing, sing!” The guys join in, unsure.
“We’re flying!” Noelle tunes in with the girls, inwardly groaning.
“And singing!”
“We’re flying and we’re singing!”
Thankfully Sierra is more than happy to do a solo, pushing Cody along with a refreshment cart. “Come fly with us! Come fly with us!”
“We’ve got a lot of crazy tunes to bust, haha!”
“Come fly with us, come fly with us…”
“It’s a pleasure, and an honor, and a must,” Alejandro sings perfectly, Bridgette and Lindsay hanging on his arms.
Noelle growls, any positive feelings about the guy’s taste in authors immediately evaporating.
Duncan sits at the dining table bored, resting his head in the palm of his hand. “Dudes, this is messed. You’re singing in a plane.”
“What did you expect, Chris is freaking insane!” Harold’s clear tone is cut off by a yelp as his nunchucks hit him in the face. Noelle barks out a laugh that is scarily in tune with the music, almost like Izzy’s haha!
“Yeah, but guys, you’re singing on TV!”
“Haven’t you always wanted to? It can’t just be meeeee!”
Noelle meets Gwen’s eye from across the cabin, both of their faces unamused. She would be in Gwen’s position right now too, if she hadn’t thoroughly read the contract.
“Come fly with us! Come fly with us!”
She can hear Hunter screaming from the cockpit. Seems he found the confessional, too. “Do you know how to steer this thing?!”
“I try.”
“Come fly with us,” Noelle sings solo, nervously staring at one of the smoking jets. “Come die with us!”
Owen startles awake from the noise. “We’re flying?! I hate flying! Stop the plane!” He falls silent once Chris hits him with the frying pan again, drifting back into unconsciousness.
“Come fly with us! Come sing with us!”
“No!” Gwen and Duncan interject.
Chris walks up, shit-eating smile on his face and contract in hand. “Anyone care for a copy of the season three rules? Because in order to escape instant elimination—”
Bridgette grabs it and rapidly flips through the pages. “All contestants must sing in each show!”
“Duncan, do it!” Courtney barks. “Let’s go!”
“Gwen, sing it!” Cody pleads. “Don’t go!”
Noelle saddles in next to Gwen’s unoccupied side and desperately sings, “Just do it, I can’t handle this alone.” She conspicuously jerks her head towards Cody.
“I don’t wanna go home…” Gwen pauses, “Come fly with us! Come fly with us! Come and fly with usssssss!”
“Duncan, come on! Please?”
“...This sucksssssss!”
“Yeah!”
The music fades out, and Noelle wants to crawl into a hole and die. She can tell Gwen feels the same way, if her scandalized look is anything to go by. “The occult club is never gonna look at me the same way again,” she whispers, full of shame.
“Enough singin’, fruitcakes!” Chef’s voice cuts in from the intercom. “Strap yourselves in! We are now beginning our descent into Egypt.” Egypt? She can feel herself sweating already. “Musical numbers, worst idea ever,” Chef mutters. “Chris is such an idi—”
Chris gasps, scowling at the loudspeaker.
“Hey, why’s the PA light still on? …Aw, shit—”
“That’s getting bleeped,” Noelle mutters, watching Chris angrily stalk to the cockpit.
Egypt is just as hot as she was expecting, sweating dripping down her face as soon as she exits the plane. She wipes off her forehead with her sweater sleeve, scowling. She’s starting to miss the falling apart piece of junk already. At least it was cool in there, she thinks, tying her hair back in a sloppy ponytail and frowning.
She eventually gives up and takes her sweater off, tying it around her waist. She’s still got her button-up on, and rolls the sleeves up to her elbows desperately. She doesn’t have the confidence to take the whole thing off, even though she has another layer underneath. Hunter seems to have the same idea, taking off his leather jacket and throwing it over his shoulder. She doesn’t know how people like Courtney and Tyler are surviving—she also doesn’t know how Gwen’s makeup isn’t melting off.
Chris is carried over to them, dressed in Egyptian pharaoh garb and being carried by two similarly dressed interns. “You guys ready for a little fun? Wow, it’s a scorcher out here!” He takes a long, obnoxious sip out of his drink. Noelle glowers. “I call today’s challenge Pyramid Over Under!”
“An eleven-hour flight, Chef’s in-flight cuisine, a forced musical number, now we’ve got a challenge?!”
“Don’tcha love this game?”
Noelle groans as they’re led to the starting line. Harold has a tinfoil hat wrapped around his head, and is rightfully sweltering because of it. “It’s like being cooked by a giant oven…”
“It might help if you weren’t dressed like a giant baked potato,” Leshawna remarks. Noelle finds herself chuckling.
“Aluminum foil means the aliens can’t read your brains.” He points at his crudely made boat-shaped hat. “It’s a real problem in this area.”
“They didn’t make the pyramids with the help of aliens, just slave labor,” Noelle mutters darkly.
She wasn’t expecting to be heard, but she’s taken off-guard by a quiet laugh by her right. Alejandro meets her eye, simpering at her remark. She isn’t given the chance to glare or look away as Chris bangs two cymbals together to get everyone’s attention.
“Man, that’s satisfying. Alright, Pyramid Over Under means you choose how you’ll get to the finish line. Either over or under the pyramid, got it?”
Noelle reluctantly nods along with the rest of the cast and preps herself to run like the hills. Ugh, sports. Maybe she can catch up to Owen and have him carry her. “Ready, set—”
“Wait up, yo! You guys!” Ezekiel runs up to them, skidding across the finish line. What the hell? He points an accusing finger at Chris. “I told you I wasn’t gonna lose this time, eh?”
“Didn’t we leave you in, like, Halifax or Whitehorse or… whatever?” Chris questioned.
“It’s called ‘landing gear,’ homie,” Zeke explained, smiling proudly. “I climbed it and hid with the cargo.”
Noelle can commend his effort, if anything.
“Impressive,” Chris compliments, which Noelle immediately knows will be followed by a— “but you’re still out.”
It’s like she’s aware of all his mannerisms at this point: one of them being he hardly ever gives a compliment unless he’s getting something out of it, or it’s a double-edged sword.
“No way! I’m in it to win it! Word!”
The host raises an eyebrow. “Hey, it’s your funeral.” He raises his cymbals, and Noelle gets ready. “Set, go!”
CLANG!
Noelle goes as fast as she can—which isn’t very fast, admittedly—and tries to remember her gym rat brother’s advice of pacing yourself. Thankfully, or maybe not, Owen is practically speed walking so she catches up to him with relative ease.
She wants back on the plane, with air conditioners and fans, goddammit.
The inside of the pyramid is eerie. Like, not really haunted house-type eerie, but it puts her on edge. It gives her this unsettling feeling, similar to being in an abandoned hospital or walking home alone at night. Simply put, she feels like she should not be here.
Owen, the one leading the group, suddenly skids and stops in his tracks, throwing his arms out. Noelle can hear some unfortunate souls in the back smack into each other and the complaints that follow. She peeks over his wide shoulder to see what made him quit moving, and—
“Oh, great,” she deadpans, “our friendly neighborhood host dude forgot to tell us there were different paths.”
She can see Hunter scowling in the corner of her eye, before the kingpin—or, in her words, the alpha bastard—turns to Sierra with a sickly sweet smile and asks, “Hey Sierra, where do you think we should go?”
“Me?! Um, ah, uh…”
“How do we know which way’s right?” Owen asks, looking at Noelle. She shrugs.
Izzy suddenly gasps and throws her arms over the bookworm’s shoulders. “I know! Okay, I saw this in a spy movie once. You lick your finger and hold it up to find the airflow!” One of the redhead’s hands draw back behind Noelle, complete with an obnoxious slurp sound as it reappears dangerously close to her face. “Mm, the sand really crunches in your teeth, fun! Okay DJ, give me your hand—”
Noelle is forced to stand there trapped between a rock (Izzy) and a hard place (her wet finger) as Leshawna drags Harold and DJ away from them and through the center door. She’s starting to miss Eva, as loathe as she is to admit it.
Izzy releases her once they leave, jumping forward to enthusiastically gesture towards the right door. “Oh, oh! Let’s take the scary mummy door!” She doesn’t give them a chance to answer, as she grabs Owen’s hand and leads him forwards, and he in turn does the same to Noelle.
She would protest under any other condition, but as she sees Cody get pulled into a hug by Sierra, she finds her big mouth staying clamped shut.
The trio found themselves wandering aimlessly through the creepy pyramid, with Owen and Izzy in a rambunctious conversation about sheep hearts (she doesn’t know, nor did she want to know), and Noelle deep in thought. Now that she’s actually back for another season, she’s putting legitimate thought into winning and, god forbid, actually trying this time around.
Just remembering that first class food is enough to make her walk a bit faster.
She’ll have to cross the issue of challenges when she gets to them, but alliances she can start thinking about now. Izzy and Owen are definite yeses on her mental checklist, as they’re close enough as it is. Gwen could be an ally too. Cody would be a bit trickier, as she would have to get the strength to talk to him first, but she’s sure she can win him over.
That’s five votes already, counting her own. Huh. Has she been making more friends during this show than she thought?
She shakes her head slightly. Focus. Her siblings tore her a new one when the dodgeball episode of Island aired, so she at least doesn’t want to do that badly again.
Teams are still a bit up in the air at this point. Chris didn’t assign any on the plane or before they went into the pyramid, leading Noelle to believe that they’ll be created after the first challenge like last season. Maybe the host will let people pick their teammates again? It’ll certainly cause a lot of infighting and drama, which positively gets his rocks off—
“You okay, little buddy? You’re all quiet.”
Noelle blinks, snapping out of her analytical thoughts. Owen’s looking down at her with concern. Had she been strategizing for that long? “I’m fine,” she answers softly, “just thinking.”
Owen gets a cheeky look on his face at that, but Izzy cuts him off before he can say a word. “Oh, Noelle! How’s your brother doing?”
The girl raises her eyebrows, unamused. Izzy does this every time she asks about Noelle’s siblings. “Which one?”
“The nerdy one, kinda curly hair, real shy—kinda like you if you were a guy and also nicer?”
“Gee, thanks,” she deadpans. “That’s Alex. You’ve met him.”
Owen casts a look at the wall, looking everywhere but them. Izzy giggles a bit, leading Noelle to wonder what she finds so funny. “Yeah, him! How’s he doing?”
“He’s fine. He won a swim competition a couple days before I left so we celebrated.” She doesn’t mention how Alex had worried for weeks about said competition, despite her assuring him that he’d do fine. She remembers him grinning like a madman when he was soaking wet and awarded the medal. After he got dry they met outside and she grinned back, punched him lightly in the arm, and said I told you so. He was happy enough to treat her to Thai afterwards.
And that, she thinks, smiling slightly, is why he’s my favorite.
Izzy looks like she’s going to say something else, until a pile of bandages lying next to a wall catches her eye. She stops, grinning. “Oh look, we’re in the nurse’s office!”
Noelle raises an eyebrow. “It’s a pyramid, not a high school.”
“Costume party!” Izzy shouts, picking up the wrappings. “Mummy me!”
She tosses them to Noelle and Owen, who catch them with unsteady hands. The two of them glance at each other, and the brunette holds back a sigh.
They somehow lose Izzy during the mummification process.
Right after Noelle had wrapped and secured the final bandage on her, she had gasped and ran off, yelling something so muffled by the coverings that Noelle couldn’t make it out.
“Izzy?!” Owen calls out desperately, hands cupped around his mouth. “Izzy!”
So much for winning. “Buddy, she’s lost. We’ve got to go.”
“Aww, poor Iz…”
Noelle squints. “Poor Iz? She kept insisting we go in circles because she ‘smelled something lucky.’” She makes air quotes around the words, holding back a groan.
Now she’s really missing Eva. She could at least keep the redhead a bit in gear—those two were always on the same wavelength, somehow.
“Oh, I think that might’ve been my fault,” Owen chuckles nervously. “Airplane food, y’know?”
Noelle catches the look on Owen’s face, knowing exactly what’s about to happen. “Please, for the love of God, hold it in.” She holds up a hand in a ‘stop’ motion, pinching her nose shut with the other. “At least until we’re out of here. This is such a small space that I might actually drop dead.”
Owen laughs a bit at that. She wasn’t kidding. “Okay, I’ll try. Might be a little hard, though…”
“Then do your best,” she murmurs, walking forward.
The two of them stroll in silence for a bit, until Owen breaks it. “Uh, Noelle?”
“Huh?”
Owen points at his hair, leading to Noelle to reach back to hers, and she just then notices that her ponytail came loose. “Oh, great,” she sighs. That was her only hair tie, too. It would be a complete waste of time to retrace their steps to look for it. She must’ve lost it while humoring Izzy—her hands tend to wander, and Noelle was so focused she wouldn’t have realized her hair was brushing her neck and shoulders.
She must’ve spoken some of that out loud, because Owen says, “You could ask one of the girls for one back on the plane!”
“Maybe. I’ll ask Gwen when we get out of here.” Gwen’s hair is probably too short to tie up, but she doesn’t want to go near Courtney with a ten-foot pole.
“Hey, that reminds me,” Owen perks up, “when did you and Gwen get so close? I got eliminated from Action and the first thing I saw was the two of you like this!” He intertwines two of his fingers with a small smile.
Noelle scratches her cheek sheepishly. Right, she never told him about the Cody thing. “I was the only one who would give her the time of day after she got eliminated and we just started talking.” She leaves out the part where the two of them bonded over their mutual annoyance of the same guy.
“Well, I’m glad! The two of you are pretty similar, huh?” He ruffles her hair, taking her by surprise. “And you do need some more friends—no offense, little buddy!”
“Wh—hey!” She laughs genuinely for one of the first times in a while. “We can’t all be social butterflies, you know.” She wants to say something else, but she blinks when she notices a very familiar mummified body. “Hey brickhouse, I found your girl.”
Owen gasps. “Iz!” He runs over to her, throwing his arms out wide. “Say, you do make a cute mummy…”
Noelle’s lips purse. Ew, flirting.
“Alright, you got a kiss for ol'—?” Owen grabs the mummy and puckers his lips.
The mummy makes an unintelligible noise, but Noelle’s eyes go wide. That does not sound like— “Uh, Owen?”
The boy in question continues making kissy faces at the mummy, not noticing its arms extending in protest.
“Owen, that’s not Izzy!” Noelle shouts, unable to move. There are actual mummies here?! What the fuck?!
Owen’s eyes open at that, staring the mummy in the face. He screams, quickly releasing it. “RUNNNN!” he shouts, doing just that and throwing Noelle over his shoulder. Owen continues screeching the entire time he’s fleeing, unable to hear his friend’s pleas.
“Owen, let me—” Her head roughly knocks into his backside. “Ow!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAA!”
Owen runs out of the pyramid with Noelle thrown over his shoulder like a ragdoll, still screaming like a little girl. She ends up getting jostled with every step he takes, her skull hitting either his back or his thigh. They’re surprisingly (and unfortunately, in her case) bony for a guy his size.
“Congratulations, Owen, Noelle,” she can hear Chris saying, albeit muffled—her ears are ringing so bad. “You’re on team two, along with Alejandro, and—can someone help Tyler out of the sand?”
“Awesome!” Owen cheers. “We made it, little buddy!”
“Put me down!” Noelle yells, pounding her fists against the back of Owen’s thighs and flailing her legs uselessly in the air. This is humiliating.
Owen complies, throwing her onto the sand. She lands flat on her back, arms outstretched above her head. She gasps and coughs, the wind completely knocked out of her.
“Oh, sorry,” Owen apologizes sheepishly. “I forget how small you are sometimes.”
She squints at the sky, trying to ease her pounding head. Owwwww. A figure, darkened by the sun, moves into her field of vision. “Need a hand?” Alejandro asks, holding out a hand.
Noelle takes it without thinking, standing up with Alejandro’s help. When she realizes what she’s doing, she releases it like it scalds her and straightens herself out. “Thanks,” she mutters.
Alejandro just smiles at her. Right, they’re teammates now. Fantastic.
She looks around, seeing one fully formed team besides her own—apparently Sierra had joined them sometime during her time on the ground—and Hunter and Cody standing in the last circle.
“Where’s Gwen?” She hears Cody ask. When Hunter gives him the stink-eye, he laughs nervously and corrects himself, “N-Not like I care. Just curious.”
Noelle peers at the top of the pyramid, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand.
“I’m telling you,” Gwen shouts, loud enough for Noelle to hear, “we need to untie!”
“And I’m telling you it’s unsafe!” Courtney shouts back. Duncan’s eyes dart between the two, looking bored. “I’m in charge, and—”
“Oh, kids!” Chris calls through his megaphone, grinning when a familiar ding ding sounds. “Recognize that sound? Time for whoever’s not finished yet to give us a musical reprise!”
Thank God, Noelle thinks. At least she doesn’t have to sing this time.
“You said one song per episode!” Duncan yells down at the host.
“Yeah, and this is a reprise, not a new song! So, if you don’t sing, you’re out! Now let’s hear it!”
“You know what? No.” Duncan treks down the pyramid with the girls in tow, repeating no with every step. Noelle watches with eager eyes, amused. Oh, this would definitely be good. “Three hours of these two squawking on this stupid pyramid in this stupid heat, and you want me to sing? Forget it!”
“Dude, you have a contract—”
“Eat it, McLean!” Duncan snaps open his pocket knife, eyes blazing. “If you need me, I’ll be in the plane waiting for a ride home, ‘cause I’m out!” Noelle briefly wonders if she’s about to witness a stabbing, until the punk slices the rope. “I quit!”
He stomps off, ignoring Gwen and Courtney’s twin gasps of shock. Noelle continues to stare off at Duncan as Cody holds out a hand to the goth.
A strong player like Duncan out already? This’ll certainly make her life a lot easier.
Izzy runs out of the pyramid, still wrapped up in bandages with the real mummy curled up in her arms.
“Izzy, no!” Owen wails, looking like he’s about to drop to his knees in despair.
Noelle takes a step back, flinching. “You’re carrying the undead!”
“Cool! Bite me and I can be your undead friend like Frankenstein!” The mummy jumps out of her arms, revealing itself to be Ezekiel who starts grumbling about no one helping him.
Noelle frowns as Izzy is directed to the third team and Chris begrudgingly puts Ezekiel on the first team. She had hoped that her, Izzy, and Owen were on a team together. That, and she does not like the look Sierra is giving her.
“Okay, teams!” Chris begins, bringing everyone’s attention back to him. “Talk amongst yourselves and determine a team name. You have three minutes while I enjoy this ice cream cone.”
The other two teams talk to each other quietly, while Noelle puts a finger to her chin in thought. God, this is hard. She has such a rich vocabulary of words to choose from and is coming up short. She’s never been the creative type. Based on her own team members’ grumblings, they’re in the same boat as her.
She sees team one stand up confidently. “Team Victory!” they shout in unison, fists raised high up in the air.
Team two has their hands put together in a circle. “Team Amazon!” they say, with Courtney the most excited—so much so that she accidentally kicks Cody in the crotch. Based on Hunter’s pained face, Noelle can tell who ultimately decided on the name.
Her team huddles together and argues quietly. Sierra stands off to the side, finger to her lips. She perks up with a smile. “Got it! Team Chris Is Really Really Really Really Hot!”
“What?!” the newly-dubbed Team Chris shouts, Noelle and Alejandro the loudest.
“Alright, best team name ever!” Chris gives his approval, shooting them a thumbs up.
“Oh, that is so unfair,” Noelle mutters. Next to her, Sierra looks like she’s about to burst with pure joy.
“All team names are final,” Chris emphasizes. “Now, here are your rewards: Team Amazon, you get a camel.” He gestures behind himself, where an intern leads a rather decrepit camel to them. Courtney gapes, Izzy claps, while the rest of the Amazons just stare.
“Team Chris Is Really Really Really Really Really Really Hot—”
“I think there are only four ‘reallys,’” Alejandro interrupts.
“—You win a goat.” The tiny thing rams its horns into Tyler’s abdomen, sending him flying. Noelle giggles, and she looks to see Alejandro smirking at her. Her smile drops. She turns away to glare at a nearby cactus, ignoring how her face burns.
“And Team Victory, here you go.” Chris tosses them a stick.
“So the guys who come in last get a camel and we get a stick?” Leshawna asks, annoyed.
“All will be explained, if I feel like it.”
Chris points at the camera to do his outro. The other teams talk to each other quietly, and Alejandro turns to her. He holds a hand to his chest, smiling politely. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. It’ll be a pleasure to work alongside you, señorita.”
Noelle narrows her eyes. “Likewise.”
You’re not going to win me over.