For the Right Reasons by Sean Lowe

to cover up what I knew was sadness and maybe a little anger.
    “Okay, well, maybe you can make it next weekend,” she said before she hung up.
    I felt terrible. Mom was devastated—probably in equal amounts—that I was auditioning for the show and that we’d kept her out of the loop.
    When I went back to Dallas, my life suddenly seemed duller than ever, and it didn’t help that I’d alienated my mom. A couple of days after I settled back into my normal routine, my phone rang again.
    “I just want you to know,” Mom said in a soft voice, “that I really want you to get this. If you’re selected, I’ll be your biggest supporter.”
    I don’t care that I was twenty-eight years old. I’ll never get so old that my mom’s approval doesn’t mean something.
    For the next few weeks, the casting director would call to check up on me, to see how I was doing, and to answer any questions I might have.
    I was at work when “the call” came, which was appropriate since Andrew and Shay were the instigators of all this.
    “Hello, Sean,” said Tabby. “I’m happy to offer you an official invitation to be a part of The Bachelorette .”
    Suddenly, I was overwhelmed. But not with a desire to find true love on a reality TV show.
    I wanted to win.

    “What are you going to wear?” Andrew asked as I was packing to go a few weeks later.
    “Since when are you concerned about my wardrobe?” I laughed.
    “Just be thankful you’re not a girl,” Shay said, settling in to the couch next to Andrew. “Guys can get a couple of suits, several ties, and call it a day.”
    “Tell that to the producers,” I said, pulling out the packet of instructions they’d sent me. “I have to bring enough clothes for up to two months, including swimsuits, heavy coats, sweaters, T-shirts, tank tops, casual day clothes, gloves, and hats.”
    “Think about all the amazing places you’ll go,” she gushed. “All over the world, probably.” She got off the couch, peeked at the papers, and began reading over my shoulder. “You have to ‘avoid stripes, small checkered patterns, big patterns, and solid white,’ ” she said. “Plus, you have to ‘be prepared for fourteen formal occasions for the show’s rose ceremonies.’ ”
    “Fourteen?” I asked. “That’s a lot of clothes. And it’s all supposed to fit in two bags.”
    “Don’t worry,” Andrew said. “You’ll probably be sent home on the first night.”
    Shay rolled her eyes, but I didn’t mind. In fact, when I was in Los Angeles for my casting call, Andrew had sent me an encouraging text:
    Mark my words: you’re going to win.
    I made a note of the date and his exact words in my phone so I’d remember his message. Not only did I appreciate the support from my family, but it also helped that my boss was fine with me going off on this little lark to North Carolina.
    The next Bachelorette, Emily Maynard, who’d gotten engaged to—and soon separated from—Bachelor Brad Womack in a previous season, wasfrom Charlotte. Her tragic story had been repeated several times on the show: she’d been engaged to a NASCAR driver when he died in a plane crash in 2004. Just days later, she found out she was pregnant with his child, whom she named after her fiancé: Ricki. When she went on The Bachelor , it looked as if she had finally found love again, but her engagement to Brad was short-lived.
    In my opinion, Emily was a great choice, and not just because she was gorgeous. In addition to her brown eyes and blonde hair, she had wit, grace, and Southern charm.
    There was no way I’d fall in love with her.
    I know, I know. It is a show about love. I’d watched it enough to understand that. When I was chosen to go on the show, I went back and watched the season of The Bachelor on which Emily was a contestant. It reminded me a little of watching film back in college as we prepared for a big football game—except with a few more cocktail dresses. At that time, only two of the official