“Listen, London, don’t feel bad about me. This is the longest I’ve ever been away from my wife and kids, and honestly, I’ve been losing my damn mind. The fact that I even made it this far will definitely be my coolest dad moment ever, so I’m good.”
London held out their hand. Ahmed glanced down at it.
And then he pulled in London for a hug.
“Take care of yourself, London,” he said near London’s ear. “Don’t let the bastards get you down.”
Ahmed stepped back and patted London on the shoulder with a genuine smile. And then he walked away for his final solo interview.
London turned back around. Dahlia waited for them with nervous energy, shifting from foot to foot, twisting her hands.
“Hey,” she said. “Let’s go.”
She turned on her heel and hustled under the wooden archway toward the exit briskly, with purpose. London had to jog to catch up with her.
They headed in the direction of the hotel in silence, the muggy night air filling London’s lungs.
“Good job,” London said after a few minutes, deciding to take a neutral route of conversation instead of What the hell is going on with you? “I know you get nervous about desserts. Hopefully this made you realize you shouldn’t.”
“London,” Dahlia said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. She dropped her head into her hands. “I know you’re mad at me about the Lizzie thing, and you should be. I am so, so sorry.”
London rubbed the back of their neck. They hated being mad at her. They hated being mad at their dad. They even hated being mad at Lizzie. Being mad took up so much space. Being mad was exhausting.
“It’s okay,” they said eventually. “I’m more worried about whether you’re okay.”
“Khari really pushed to save Lizzie, for whatever reason,” Dahlia said in a rush, ignoring London’s last sentence. “And give you the disadvantage. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get the disadvantage. And I was so flustered being up there, and tired, and I couldn’t—”
“Dahlia.” London reached over and took her hand. They suddenly didn’t want to talk about this anymore. It had been a small, dumb thing. Dahlia was right; at least they hadn’t gotten the disadvantage, which could have been disastrous. They pushed Lizzie away again, back into the recesses of their mind where she belonged.
“It’s cool, okay?” they said. “We both made it through another elimination. We’re both still here. That’s all that matters.”
And this had been a big elimination to survive. It was Thursday now; they had a three-day weekend ahead of them, and the next Elimination Challenge wouldn’t be until Tuesday. They had both just earned themselves five more days of being together.
And London still wanted that.
London still wanted to fall asleep next to her tonight.
“Do you think Ahmed’s pissed at me?” Dahlia asked. “I meant to apologize.”
“Nah, Ahmed’s good,” London answered. “He’s happy to be heading home to his wife and kids.”
“Yeah?” Dahlia’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“London, do you think . . . ?” Dahlia bit her lip. “Do you think being on this show is worth it?”
London frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Dahlia looked away, hugging her elbows to herself and shivering a bit, even though it was warm out. A long moment passed.
“Never mind.” She shook her head before smiling at them. But it was such a small, forced smile, the most un-Dahlia-like thing London had ever seen.
She turned and kept walking toward the hotel, the now familiar sounds of this city filling in the silence. London followed, trying to think of some way to bring her back to them.
“You deserve part of my win, really,” London said as the hotel came into view. “You were the inspiration.”
“But . . . ” Dahlia frowned. “I don’t even drink coffee.”
“Yeah, which makes no sense. The coffee part was me. But—” London cut themself off, feeling a bit embarrassed now. But they needed to fill the space between them somehow, with something good and true, before they went back to their room alone.
“You taste like peppermint.”
“What?” Dahlia’s mouth cracked into a real smile this time, one hundred percent Woodson, and warmth flooded London’s chest.
“Oh my god,” Dahlia said. “You made me a cake.”