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I can’t keep a final fierceness out of my voice. “Also, just so we’re clear right now? You may not give a fuck about Josh, or about me, and I’m not going to ask you to start. But you will care about Annaleigh. You will give a goddamn fuck when it comes to her.” Not a question. An order.
He nods. “I will.”
And on the promise of those two words, I leave.
THEN
“You’re going to the City of Love—Paris!” cries Matt.
It’s pure, unbridled emotion. Zoe’s crying, Emma’s whooping, Camila is clasping her hands like she won a pageant.
We’ve just endured another rose ceremony elimination, and we’re down to seven girls. Only four of us will return from Paris as contestants. Things are getting real.
Last week’s trip took us to Indianapolis, Josh’s home base, and away from the eternal summer of LA. We didn’t meet his family or see his condo, but I did get a feel for the city, despite the nasty February wintry mix that fell half the time. Indy has an up-and-coming artsy-hipster vibe mixed with an ineffable Midwestern wholesomeness, and I loved it. I can totally see myself living there with Josh.
“I’ve never left the country,” bawls Zoe. “I’m just so grateful!”
Neither have I, and I feel flushed with excitement.
Champagne is brought out, confetti is released, a giant French flag is unfurled. Josh pops the champagne and a man in a striped shirt waltzes around playing “La Vie en Rose” on the accordion. It’s total delightful chaos.
“Who speaks French?” Emma is asking as Josh pours champagne into eight cut-glass flutes. “Does anyone speak French?” No one does, but only Emma seems to care.
As Josh hands me a glass, he leans in, his warm breath brushing my skin.
“I can’t wait to show you the world, Julia Walden.”
“I can’t wait to see it with you, Josh LaSala,” I return.
I’m about to get a taste for that bigger world Cam was talking about...but she was wrong. It’s not a choice between the world and Josh. I can have both.
Everyone disperses into knots of conversation. Zoe cries into Josh’s blazer. One girl is announcing her packing strategy for international travel. “Step one, try to limit yourself to six pairs of shoes!” Another is bemoaning her unflattering passport photo. I just smile.
Once again, I was the second girl called in the rose ceremony, after Cam. She’s been called first almost every week, and it’s become a comforting routine to see her standing in the “chosen ones” area. She always smiles as I walk toward her and mouths, Bitch. It’s our cute little ritual.
Speaking of Cam, here she comes, her dark hair in an elegant messy bun, her figure exuberant in an off-shoulder chartreuse gown with a slit all the way to her hip.
“Were you surprised to see Sarah go?” she says.
Cam’s other ritual with me is talking shit about whoever just got eliminated. Well—she talks. I listen.
“I’m always surprised to see who goes,” I admit. Every week, I can’t imagine Josh sending anyone home. I always have a feeling of unreality as some poor girl who doesn’t feel ready to go is forced to leave forever.
“Would you be shocked to know that Josh already told me he was sending her home, on the DL?” says Cam in a smug tone.
“Yes,” I say, my cheeks heating. Cameras are picking up our conversation. How is Sarah going to feel when she watches this episode and hears this little dig? I may be in love with Josh. But it doesn’t mean I approve of this lack of consideration.
“Don’t act so shocked,” says Cam breezily. “We all know she was just here to promote her skin-care brand. What was it called?”
LaMareaX, I could supply, and it was more than skin care—a “full lifestyle brand,” according to Sarah—but that’s not the point. It’s Josh’s behavior that’s concerning to me.
“It’s just not very...gentlemanly of him.”
“Gentlemanly?” says Cam with a look of exaggerated surprise. “Oh, honey. I wouldn’t call Josh gentlemanly.”
There’s a nasty slosh in my stomach, but I play it cool. “That’s how he is with me. What’s he like with you?”
“You know. Like guys are.”
