Free Losing to Win by Michele Grant Page A

the clock: 4:15 a.m.? Seriously? I turned my gaze toward the voice. In the doorway stood a tall skinny twenty something in a “Barack the Vote” T-shirt and jeans. Even more alarming was the burly guy standing next to him dressed all in black and carrying a camera on his shoulder. The red light was on. Next to him stood a kid barely out of high school holding up a huge pole with a fuzzy microphone on the end also pointed in my direction. As I came to partial wakefulness, I recalled that the producer was Ren, the cameraman was Jerry, and the kid with the mic was DeMarcus. Knowing this did not explain what they were doing in my bedroom at the crack of dawn o’clock.
    â€œAre we filming?” I rasped while looking down to make sure I’d actually worn something resembling pajamas to bed. I was in a Houston Stars T-shirt and loose cotton shorts. “You know, for some reason when you said we’d start first thing in the morning? I assumed that meant eight or nine?”
    â€œWe want to grab some Day One shots and get each contestant used to having us around,” Ren explained helpfully with a little too much cheer for this early in the morning.
    â€œI see. Well, good morning, world. Hope you’re getting more sleep than I am.” I blinked and smiled into the camera as I sat up in bed. Hey, this face had sold its fair share of sports drinks and gym shoes not so long ago. I could still turn it on when I had to. However, there was one thing I needed to address. “Could a brother tip to the restroom without witnesses, please? The camera needs to know boundaries.”
    â€œYes, of course. Sorry.” The red light went off. “When you come back, make sure you pack a bag for the next month.”
    â€œSay what now?” I paused on my way to the closet. “Where are we going?”
    â€œOh, I thought they told you. All of the contestants are moving on campus. To the Havenwood Academy dormitory.”
    Pretty sure I’d missed that in the fine print. “Why?”
    â€œIt was decided that having everyone in one place is easier for filming and adds to the overall team experience.”
    â€œUh-huh. Does Rissa know about this?”
    â€œUm, I think she’s being told this morning.”
    I snorted. “Good luck with that.” I pulled some underwear, socks, sweats, and Nikes out of the closet before heading to the bathroom. “Why 4:15 in the morning?”
    â€œWe wanted to catch everyone while they were still sleeping so the first reactions are all honest.”
    â€œBrilliant,” I agreed with a saccharine smile, closing the door firmly behind me. Reaching in to turn on the shower, I shook my head. What exactly had I gotten myself into? I definitely missed the part of the contract where they could barge into my house before dawn and start filming. The only saving grace was that this was a rental property on loan from Burke and Mac’s company, Bisset Custom Homes. Maybe they’d pick up free publicity from the impromptu early morning footage. I was enjoying the house, it was spacious and well laid out. Pity I was headed for a high school dorm room. Just another sacrifice for the greater good.
    And really, that was the whole point of doing this ridiculous reality show: publicity for everybody. Some for me, some for the town, and some (albeit unwanted) for Carissa. I slid under the heated spray and searched for the body wash. I was in the middle of sudsing and rinsing when a knock came at the bathroom door. Before I could answer, the door swung open. I looked incredulously at it.
    The skinny producer stuck his head in. “Sorry, dude. Your cell phone is ringing. The display says it’s Carissa. We thought you’d like to take it.”
    I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist before I snatched the phone from Ren. I saw Jerry standing behind him with the camera on his shoulder and red light on. Intrusive much? I frowned.