Free For Real by Alison Cherry

want to tell them that I’ve never even had a real date, unless you count the handful of times Doug Garfield and I cut study hall to make out in his car. “Um,” I say, scrambling for a way to spin the truth. “I’m not really into serious relationships. I like to keep things casual, keep my options open, you know?”
    “Are you telling us you’re totally inexperienced with boys?” asks Sunburn.
    “No, of course not,” I say, like that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.
    “I get it,” Piercings says. “You like to play the field. I respect that.” Behind him, the cameraman waggles his eyebrows at me. Ew .
    “And why do you find yourself shying away from commitment, Claire?” asks Charlotte. “Is it because you don’t believe in love?”
    I start laughing. “No. I believe in love.”
    “Even after what Samir did to your sister?”
    “Sure. One guy being a moron can’t destroy an entire concept.”
    “So if you believe in love, why don’t you believe in relationships?”
    “I believe in them. The right person just hasn’t turned up yet.” Horrifyingly, an image of Will Divine pops into my head, and I feel myself starting to blush. I push the thought away. “I go to a really small school—there are only, like, two hundred guys, and I’ve known a lot of them since I was three. When you’ve seen someone peeing in the sandbox and licking scented markers, it’s pretty much impossible to date him, you know?” Everyone laughs, and I relax a little.
    “Sounds rough,” Santa says. “Did your sister have the same problem finding people to date in high school?”
    “I guess not, no. She actually dated a fair number of people.”
    “How do you explain that?”
    I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe I have higher standards than she does.”
    “Or maybe Miranda’s more open-minded than you are?”
    “You don’t know the guys at my school. If you did, you’d understand why I’d rather not open my mind too much.” Everyone laughs again, and a warm feeling blooms in my chest. I’m actually doing this—I’m sitting in front of a bunch of executives, without Miranda, and I’m totally holding my own. They think I’m funny, and in a ha-ha way, not a what a freak way.
    “Tell me, Claire,” Charlotte says. “If a situation were to arise on the show in which only you or Miranda could continue racing, would you help your sister and risk being eliminated, or would you save yourself?”
    “What?” I say. “That would never happen—we’re on the same team, so we’d be eliminated together, right?”
    “Pretend it was a possibility. What would you do?”
    I’m honestly not sure. The whole point of us being here is for Miranda to get revenge on Samir, so if he was still in the game, I guess I’d have to let Miranda keep racing, regardless of what I wanted. But what if she’d already gotten her revenge, and Samir wasn’t a factor anymore? I have more to prove than she does. If I wanted to show the world I was a competent, fierce contender who deserved to be taken seriously, I couldn’t afford to sacrifice myself for someone else. Sure, it might make me look generous, but it would also make me look weak. It’s exactly what Miranda would expect me to do, and it would show her that I consider myself disposable. If I think of myself that way, how can I expect her to disagree?
    In any case, Charlotte’s question is purely hypothetical. I’ll never really have to compete against my sister in the race. And I can tell what the producers want me to say.
    I square my shoulders and look Charlotte right in the eye. “I’d let Miranda be eliminated,” I say. “When it comes down to it, I’m not racing for her. I’m racing for myself.”
* * *
From: “Charlotte Sweeney”
To: “Miranda Henderson” ,
“Claire Henderson”
Subject: Around the World
Dear Claire and Miranda,
I’m delighted to inform you that