If the Shoe Fits (Meant To Be #1) by Julie Murphy

Stacy rubs circles on the other woman’s back and nods. “We’re going to be fine, right, Jenny?” She turns to me and quietly adds, “I thought it was just the white ladies losing it, but I guess none of us are immune.”

The crying woman looks up to me and says, “I fell.” Another sob hits her, and she begins to hiccup as cameras begin to swarm, her cries their siren call.

“Water,” I say. “Let me get you some water.”

I manage to track down a bottle of water from the guy behind the bar, and when I return, a small crowd has gathered to hear Jenny’s recount.

“I just stepped out of the car, and then my heel got caught in the train of my dress.” She sniffs. “And I bit it. Big-time. It wasn’t some cute romantic-comedy fall where I, like, tripped into Mr. Perfect’s arms. I landed face-first and—and there was so much blood. They had to call the mediiiiiiiiiic,” she tells us, her words devolving into another sob.

Around us, I can see the crew eating this up as Wes whispers to one of the camera operators to tighten his zoom.

“At least you didn’t break your nose,” Addison deadpans.

“Not helpful!” I snap at her.

She practically snarls, making it even clearer she’s not here to make friends.

Jenny wipes her tears away. “No, she’s right.” She smiles up at Addison in a familiar way, like she’s very used to playing beta to some other girl’s alpha.

Addison looks to me. “And, Cindy, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I just think you’re so brave.”

My brow furrows into a knot. “For what?”

“That dress. It’s so stunning, of course, but I would just be so self-conscious. It’s just really nice to see a big girl rocking her curves, ya know? So body positive of you.”

Jenny nods and so do most of the other girls. “So brave.”

My blood turns to lava, and I think I might just explode. Being called brave is one of my biggest pet peeves. When someone calls me brave for going out or wearing a fitted dress or for some other normal thing that every other girl does, what it really means is: I would be mortified to look like you, but good for you for merely existing even if all I can think about is how fat you are and how I’m terrified I’ll one day look like you. So brave.

Addison places a hand on my shoulder. “I just want you to know that no matter what happens tonight at elimination and no matter who finds true love, the truest love is the love we give ourselves.”

Everyone except Stacy lets out a giant awwwwww. Our eyes meet for a moment, and it’s a small relief to know that someone else is seeing Addison for who she really is.

“I love girl bonding,” says Anna, her hands clutched to her chest.

I nearly vault myself across the crowd to shake her shoulders and scream, Don’t you see how belittling this is! I’m not brave for wearing a dress. I’m just living!

But instead, I clear my throat and say, “Thanks, girl.”

“Ladies.”

We all spin around to see Henry returning to the group after a brief one-on-one with Sara Claire, who is beaming.

“Hi, Henry,” a few girls say in singsong voices.

“Jenny, are you okay?” he asks.

She nods pitifully.

“Took a real spill, there. I think you might be tougher than some of the guys on my college lacrosse team,” he says.

“We’ve been taking very good care of our sweet Jenny,” Addison says. She moves to stand right next to Jenny, practically elbowing Stacy out of the way. “Girls gotta look out for each other.”

Henry nods. “I couldn’t agree more.” He laughs quietly. “You know, I’ve got to be honest with you. The whole concept of this show is a little bizarre to me.”

I notice a cameraman look over to Mallory, but she waves him on to keep filming.

“And I know that the risk is on you ladies. You’re all here, putting yourselves out there with no guarantees,” Henry continues. “And it’s just really nice to see you all helping one another out. I know this is technically a competition, but for me, it’s more about finding the right connection. That’s not some kind of sport. So thank you, Addison. I really appreciate seeing you be kind to the other women.”

My blood boils and my lip curls. What kind of patronizing crap speech was that? There was some truth to what he said, sure, but playing right into Addison’s deceitful games? Could he be more clueless?

Addison smiles and shrugs innocently. “You think I could steal you away for just a few?”

Henry holds his arm out to her. “Gladly.”

She drapes her arm through his, and we all watch them walk off together to the gazebo a few yards past the pool.

A petite brunette with freckles sprinkling the bridge of her nose sighs. “It’s not fair how good they look together.”

Jenny sighs in agreement. “It’s totally criminal.”

“Bless her heart,” Sara Claire mutters.

I turn to her and find her frowning, shoulders slumped. “You look like you could use a drink,” I say.

She holds a hand out for me, and we stomp to the bar. “Bless you,” she says.

We each get a glass of rosé, and I ask, “How was your one-on-one?”

She eyes me, her lip twitching with uncertainty. I guess in some sort of primal sense we’re all competing for love in the real world, but this show is much more direct than people just trying to meet at a bar or on an app. Figuring out how to communicate with the other women and even befriend them is confusing, and there’s no rule book for how to navigate it.