Abby

It’s been raining cats and dogs all morning, but I’m too excited to care. All I can

think about is the anticipation buzzing in my chest as I make my way up the

walkway to the upscale studio where the interviews for the cook-off are being

held.

“Hello,” I say from under my umbrella to a security guard leaning against a post,

looking bored. “Is this the right entrance for the interviews?”

“Yup,” he says, nodding, and gestures to a set of double doors behind him.

“Head in there, take a left, and follow the hallway to the end.”

“Thank you.”

Enter title…

As I step through the doors, my heart rises into my throat. It’s all I can do to

swallow it and force my feet to carry me forward.

I’ve never been on television before. This is going to be both exciting and

more terrifying than the

I feel prepared. I’ve spent

have my answers ready to go. All that’s left

with, and then tomorrow

The cook-off.

here. In less than

I’ll be competing in

prepared for that as I am

really, really

at the same time, aside from the interview and

in my stomach—this time, thanks to

be leaving after tomorrow, only returning in a few

and then leaving again.

I took his presence for granted. I feel

of that. All this time, he’s been putting

so much to show for it. But what

more than that for

knowing.

back to reality. Crisp

of hairspray fill the air as I

floor—everything about it screams

and directed to a

beauty salon, complete with

and spot the three other contestants—a tall, rugged man with

man

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