𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐲

"Wow." That's the word that leaves my mouth when we enter a new crook in the jungle. It's like a bright light at the end of a dark tunnel. 

Well-structured trees tower up like wands shooting the sky while low, crooked branches sag limply, frozen in time like bent arms. Spotlights shown down here and there through the roof of treetops concealing the sun, exposing fragmented blues that lit up the floating leaves and fibers.

These trees remind me of the Angel oak tree in South Carolina, but they aren't oak trees at all, and there's an abundant amount in one spot. That's the only comparison I have. Jack does a quick 360 around the place to gain a feel for its ambience before immediately going to climb one.

I take it as a cue to follow him. His sturdy physique is honed by his years in military school, making his agile movements look effortless. He practically sprints up the branches with ease. Trotting over, I hoist my leg high, and pull up to sit on the lowest branch. A whistle slices through the air, sourcing from Jack who is many limbs higher. The neatest part here, is that you can easily walk on these branches and stay supported by their strength.

"Come up here!" He called down. I look at him, and mind the distance.

"Unless you're scared..." His coaxing voice draws out in front of a background of playfulness. A reluctant smile paints my lips, and I cave to his magnetic aura. I start making my way up, branch by branch.

During my climb, Jack slumps back. He would flash me that boyish crooked grin, and express a taunting shrug of the shoulders from his place above me. I would gather my bearings as it served an odd boost of motivation. When I make it to his branch, I plop down for a seat and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Only took you five years."

"Shut up."

I hear him snicker beside me, but I ignore it and take a moment to survey the foreign view. The trees are like bouquets of foliage. A three-dimensional wonderland.

"Isn't it so beautiful?" I say out loud, only for Jack to disregard it.

"I could probably fall asleep up here." He comments through a huff and rests his hands behind his head. Simon would love it here. I could probably bring him some day.

"I have no doubt, Merridew." I straddle the branch to face him. His blue eyes peek-a-booed through heavy eyelids, and his cheek lifts. Scary to say-- that he looked attractive for being the human embodiment of a reckless dog. 

"Where to next?" He asked, placing his hands down on the thick branch.

"Wait, I wanna sit here for a while," I explain. To humor him I ask, "Do you have any ideas after this?"

His face lights up at the words. "Somewhere I'd like to be?" He flashes a knowing smile and touches my knee. Frowning, I swat him away. "No."

"We're on an island," he justifies dumbly.

I arch a cryptic brow and say, "Your point?"

"Isn't this the time that you can just let loose?" He asks the question somewhat seriously. It takes me a moment to understand why he's getting at that.

"When was your last real relationship?" He interrogates me, leaning against the bark.

"My senior year, I thought I told you that." I start talking before he can say anything else to retort.

"And before you call me a prude for not fucking you already, I've already learned my lesson about why I shouldn't dive straight into that with boys I've just met."

Jack laughs in my face. "Who said anything about that?"

I glare at him. "I'm not making out with you, either."

"Never said you had to," he raises his hands in defense. "What I am saying though, is you need to cut loose. Live a little. This is paradise, ain't it?"

I drop my chin and stare at him. He needs to get real.

"Paradise?" I scoff dubiously. Jack shows a short nod of the head.

"Yeah," he says. "We're living on a nice beach, no responsibility or teachers. You don't think that's a win?"

"Being the only girl stranded on an island with a bunch of rowdy teenage boys who don't know their elbow from their ass is paradise?"

Jack shrugs as if to say, take it as you will.

"Well, damn!" I exclaim sarcastically, throwing my hands up. "I guess this really is as good as it gets. Thank you, Jack, so much for that marvelous eye-opener! I'm a new woman."

"Calm yourself and your petty comments," he laughs boisterously.

"Say what you will, but some girls would kill to be in your spot, Vera." He leans back into a relaxed position again.

"No, I know they would," I quickly say. "Girls at my school would kill to live out the plot of The Blue Lagoon."

"Blue Lagoon?" Jack repeats in question. I nod slowly.

"The Blue Lagoon. 1980. Never heard of it?"

He shook his head again, confusion twisted across his features. My brows furrow harshly.

"You mean you've never seen it in your local video store...? Never heard of anyone talking about the novel?"

Jack still shook his head slowly.

"The insanely popular movie that sparked up lots of controversy? Not a word of it was heard by you?"

"Nope," he chimes. My eyes roll melodramatically. God, he's behind.

"Congratulations," I mutter. "Terrible movie anyway. Spare yourself."

Jack's intrigue seems to be piqued. He sits up and rests his elbows on his knees.

"Hold on now. What's it about?"

I buzz my lips in annoyance.

"It's an incest love story of kids who were stranded on an island together, and they made a product-of-incest-love-child. Nothing to be romanticized. Happy?"

Jack blinks, trying to unpack that.

"And girls like the idea of incest at your school?"

"Well, obviously not." I retract. "They like the idea of being stranded with a guy who isn't their cousin, and falling head over heels for him like every other romance movie. But you see, Jack, no girl would realistically want my place here, because this isn't. A God damn. Movie."

I drop my hand onto the rough bark and began tracing the ridges to keep composure. Jack has an ever-growing simper at my inner tirade. Why does he need to act like such a smugly-crooning shit? How does he manage to defy every thought I have about him that could somehow prove otherwise?

"Let me guess," Jack says. "You're superstitious."

"Quite the opposite," I reply blankly. "Why?"

"I mean, it's a basic horror cliche!" He exclaims. "To make sure stupid teens don't go out and hook up. Specifically in the woods."

"Yeah, I get that," I say in an obvious tone. "What's that gotta do with me?" 

"You don't wanna get diced up by some crazy axe murderer for being impure." A playful smile teases me as he baits for a reaction.

"It's not that I'm superstitious," I shut down his guesses. "I'm just not a complete idiot."  

"You know where that whole trope came from right?" Jack sits up, seemingly excited to explain. A reluctant sigh huffs out of my lungs.  

"I have some ideas," I grumble. "But where?"

"Well," he begins. "There's this old story about a young couple who drove up into Lover's Lane in their car to hook up, way deep in the woods. They turned on the radio to set the mood - y'know, all that jazz - and they were making out until the music stopped with an announcement that an asylum patient escaped and was on the loose." 

I fully know good and well what this story is, but I stay silent and let Jack continue. 

"They said the guy had a missing left hand that was replaced with a hook, and that he was also armed with a knife. So, of course, the girl is freaked out by hearin' this and wants to leave. Guy just locks the door and tells her they'll be fine, so they go back to makin' out. At some point, he leaves to take a piss and doesn't come back. While she's waiting, she hears a banging on top of the car. Eventually, she gets out and sees the escaped patient banging her boyfriend's severed head on the car roof before killing her, too." 

"Yeah, I'm quite literally not worried about that," I say firmly, but Jack is quick to jump on my words.

"No, I'm just saying that the story created the whole superstition and taboo around people having premarital sex or making out- anything like that." 

"And I'm sure that it acts as your worst enemy," I assume sarcastically with a knowing smile.  

"Sure thing, Sawyer." He rolls his eyes. "Can we go now?"

I clench my jaw.

"If you're that bored, you can go, but you don't see this stuff at home everyday. I'm staying for a while, whether you like it or not."

The boy raises a brow, seemingly unfazed. Why did I even offer for him to tag along?

"But, we've already seen it. What else is there to do in this spot?"

Taking off my blazer, I sling it to rest on one of the branches. "We take in the peace of it all. Which must be new for you since all you know is to be a walking disruption."

I earn a loud laugh.

"You sound like Simon." As if I wasn't just thinking about how much he'd love it here. I can get a few minutes of solace in before Jack pesters for us to move on. Art is subjective. That's what the adults say. Is that valid to say the same about this?

"Simon is such sweet kid," I muse, laughing to myself. "He's so quiet. He reminds me of my younger cousin from my dad's side of the family."

The blonde shrugged. "He's weird. He's all skin and bone since he'd not even cooperate in military school."

I stare in disbelief, biting back a doubtful smile. "You mean to tell me Simon is some hooligan like you?"

Jack laughs even louder this time.

"No, but Roger sure as hell was. We'd get in tons of trouble together," he said mischievously. "Simon was always aloof, daydreaming and wandering away."

Maybe not much has changed. Regardless, it didn't change the fact that Simon was the most decent out of the group.

"That was kinda me, too," I admit. "Even in that superficial, popular crowd. Not that I would wander off, though." Heather Chandler creeps into my mind for a cameo. Her dwelling in my mind isn't a rare occurrence, regrettably speaking.

"Speaking of that, I wanna hear more about high school-you," Jack states. With one hand resting behind his head, he used the other to jab a finger in my direction.

"Well, I need to tHinK oF oNe!" I mimic his male voice, hoping it would rise up some reaction. Jack stares across from me before breaking out into a grin and diverting his eyes. Relinquishing my glare, I review a few moments packed away in my head.

"You were one of the Heather-bitches, right?" He spontaneously blurted out. 

"No." I insisted earnestly. "No, I was a Veronica..." Pursing my lips, I drank in a breath of air as Jack stared at me like a fucking owl.

"I'm still trying to find the old me, you know? I thought traveling and going to school out of country would somehow-"

"Save the female teen angst before I hurl," Jack rudely cut me off. Who does he think he is?! He slumped back coolly and waved me on as I insisted a glare.

"Just get on with it."

"Okay, I got one," I raise my voice to assert myself once again over that asshat. "I always had to drop things I was doing just to tag along with them all half the time..." I clench my jaw.

"For instance, I would be studying, and Heather-fucking-Chandler's little lapdogs would appear out of nowhere, demanding that she needed to see me somewhere pronto."

Whenever I retell these stories, I ask myself, why not tell them to shove off? Only I can know why, deep down. High school me was a bitch who didn't dare speak up to that self-important Queen Bee.

"Next thing I knew, was that I had to haul ass to the cafeteria only to find out that she needed a note!" I stop my words at Jack's clear confusion. I backtrack for context.

"I can forge just about anyone's handwriting -- I had to forge one in this football player's handwriting... he's one of the boys that committed suicide."

Jack bobbed his brows. "Damn, Sawyer. Weren't you a ruthless one?"

I roll my eyes. "Before he committed suicide, idiot." I snap back. "But I had an old friend who really liked him. I'm talking big time. Heather demanded a hot and heavy, but realistically low-key letter."

I swallow, my mouth going dry again. Shit, I had nothing against that girl. But as things go, I obliged to Heather's wishes always. She told me to never think. Act immediately.

"And so it went; sneaking the letter onto that poor girl's lunch tray. We all stayed in this corner to watch it unfold... It was like multiple stages of her seeing the letter, reading it, the reaction... Then it was her debating whether or not go talk to him, and when she did, she became a laughing stock within an hour."

I was offered bad choices, but I could've said no. Jack sits up. I can't tell if he's impressed or simply amused.

"Damn. I knew you were popular but I didn't know that you were one of those bitches."

Oh, the irony. They had a disguise. A put up front of being prestigious and well-mannered when underneath, they were snakes. And me in all my glory during junior and senior year -- I was one of them.

"Well, Jack. There's a lot of things you don't know."

He waves me off dismissively. In my high school deep dive, I think about the students there.

"We made fun of these guys," I start, knee deep in my memories.

"They had a booth set up in the cafeteria, advertising that people donate their lunch money and tater tots to Africa after flat out asking for free lunch didn't work out." I laugh at that, gazing up at the clouds.

"I mean jeez, you'd think they'd be fed by how much they bribed in a day. They even pulled the Thanksgiving card."

Jack frowns in perplexion. "Do they even have Thanksgiving in Africa?"

"Oh, sure." I blurt, blowing air through pursed lips. "Indians, Pilgrims... Tater tots. It's a real party continent."

A smile paints across my lips, and I pull one of my knees to my chest. A moment of silence beats by, and I peer up to be met by Jack's hard gaze. His blue eyes almost look thoughtful.

"You're staring," I acknowledge. "How do I make it stop?"

Jack suppresses a grin as he studies me for a moment more.

"Do you always do that?"

I furrow my brows in question, cocking my head. "What do you mean?"

Jack watched me hard for another moment. "I mean when you get very deep in telling a story... you build it up, but blow it off in the end."

My forehead tenses. Truthfully, I've never notice how I act.

"And your eyes," he continued. "You sorta squint your eyes when you're talking, but one squints a bit more. You look confused when you do that."

I scoff like what he said is funny. "Is that a good or bad thing? And I dunno. It's kinda hard to remember things, so I get deep into it..." I pause and purse my lips in contemplation.

"I suppose it doesn't matter once it's been said."

Jack flashes his eyes at me, and I realize it's because I've done it again. 

"It's cute, though." 

Pressing my lips together, I nod in awkward acceptance. Better not to groan about his flirty comments.

"Right then..." I squirm in discomfort, hoping the interaction will be left at that. He looks at me for a moment longer, twisting the black ring on his finger, seemingly studying my features.

"I think you have a sunburn," said Jack blankly. He was right. I could feel it, a faint burn hissing underneath my skin. Without warning, he leaned closer to me and gently tapped his finger across my face where I'd been burned by the sun; left cheek, nose, then my right cheek. He retracts back again. 

"You, could use some aloe, Vera." Not a second went by before his lips split into a white grin as he couldn't stop the laughter bubbling up for the stupid pun. It took me the extra moment to catch it before I could roll my eyes and turn away in disappointment for the cheap joke.

"Hey, come on, that was a good one!" Jack angles himself forward again and roughly shakes my knee to stir me. 

"Am I supposed to applaud?" A grin tickles my lips now. He can only snicker in response to my crumbling facial expression as the corners of my mouth dare to curl upwards.

"You're proud of that, huh?" I nod, egging the blonde on as he turns to the side to hide his face while he laughs boisterously. 

"Okay, yeah," I serve him with a faux bitch-face, smiling with all good humor. "Yeah, get it out now, blondie." 

His chuckles begin to die down as he let out an exaggerated sigh, resting and staring at me through lazy eyelids. I swallow my grin and continue to press my tongue to the inside of my cheek, keeping the daring smile at bay. 

"You're fun to talk to sometimes, Sawyer."

"Am I?" A brow quirks up. "'Cause I think you're absolutely insufferable to speak with." The snarky words deliver as a joke.

Jack makes a smart ass face at me and then hops down from his branch. I do the same right after him, making sure to pause as I stare at his back with a look of perplexity so that he can't notice. How much longer until he decides to make a switch? When does the mental torment resume? -- Whenever he's around his friends again, I'm presuming? Slightly guarded, I follow after him, and just as discussed, Jack leads us to the next place.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Moving some foliage away from our faces, Jack and I continue to scope out anything that might spark our interest. The ground has surely started to curve up and in the distance, the trees parted to a bright opening. On the same wave-length, we nod and venture over.

"Did I ever tell you about this neighboring prep school that was near Valley Forge?" He spoke up casually. Pausing, I reviewed the memories of different conversations. The matter of a prep school doesn't ring a bell.

"Nope." Quite frankly, I don't feel interested, but I listen anyway.

"It was an all-girls school." He explained. I look at him sidelong, reminding myself to not get too comfortable in conversation. 

"Lots of the students were able to get in close contact, if you know what I mean." Jack glanced at me knowingly. My brows furrowed in disgust.

"There was this snatch. Her name was Scarlett Callisto." Hearing that, a sigh blows through my lips.

"Jack, I really don't care," I laugh, still annoyed. Not taking my answer to mind, he talks over me.

"Let me finish!"

I inwardly scowl and cross my arms.

"She was sorta like you." 

Something churns in my gut. This is a conversation that could go in multiple directions. Seeing my expression, he broke into more explanations.

"No, really. She had dark hair and dark eyes. Scarlett also liked to strut. That girl knew how to argue."

That girl knew how to argue. I think of Heather Chandler, then I think of myself.

"Man, she just thought she was too good for the crowd at military school. And that to everyone else -- made her all the more irresistible."

"Ew, Jack!" My hand tosses up to cut him off.

"You always want what you can't have." He quotes. That was kinda true.

"But, sure. There were better chicks there that everyone went for." Jack runs his fingers through his gold hair, and I catch myself staring until a rock trips me. This goes unnoticed, thankfully.

"After a while, you get past the easy ones, then you face a new challenge."

A new challenge.

Easy ones.

Of course -- oh-so-high-and-mighty Jack Merridew always gets what he wants. That boy can barge into any school and just use some bullshit charms to take his pick.

Jack looks out into the distance as we walked, laughing to himself while recounting his memories. "As much as Scarlett didn't want to admit it, I knew she caved in with me."

That worries me with the lack of context.

"So yeah, we had a fling going, but it was on and off." The boy starts to tap every passing tree.

"She was different than lots of the others in certain ways. Like I said, she wasn't so easy and wanted something real."

Just hearing that, I feel bad for this girl. This girl who sounds like she wanted a real relationship and was with a guy who probably wanted one thing.

"That girl was smart, but damn, she could be a down right bitch."

I almost want to thank Jack out loud for unintentionally giving me the reminder that he's just like any other man out there. An icy bath bomb dropped into the pit of my stomach and fizzed out the scathing emotions, spreading along my bloodstream and into my chest to accumulate back together. 

Bitch. Of course. A nasty sneer curled my upper lip at the thought. Bitch -- She was called a bitch for likely being reasonable. For setting normal boundaries. 

"And is that fair to say?" My words shot out like an arrow, incredibly harsh in contrast to my former exchanges from this day-trip. Jack seems caught off-guard at the sudden tone change. 

"Listen, I know you're a savior feminist and all, but trust me, as similar as you both are, you would get fed up with her shit, too."

The inkling in the back of my mind continued to flicker like a flame. 

"Well, what did you guys do when you dated?"

"-Talked. Not dated." Jack corrects. "Like I said, we had a fling and we just messed around."

I blow a strand of hair from my face and sort out my thoughts.

"Well, what happened to her?" I face the blonde who shakes his head.

"Her and Roger happened. Scarlett would never get caught up with Roger on a normal day. She definitely wasn't fond of me, but imagine Roger."

An echo of a drum pounds through the jungle. It takes a moment to realize that it's my own heartbeat.

"Roger and her got together one night and well, it got around. Goody-two-shoes and Roger is quite a story to come across. The idea of me and her was already a story in itself."

God, that poor girl. My jaw clenched, and the inkling irritation insists on pestering me like cockroaches going up my back.

"Did Roger..." My voice trailed off to a halt, rigid and demanding a truthful response.

"No." Jack affirmed. "But it got around, and she denied it. But you know, she got shunned by the other bitches at that school 'cuz they were jealous, so she transferred somewhere else. Her and I lost all contact."

"That's horrible." I mumble softly, feeling my heart break for the girl. I go back, reviewing her story and comparing it to some of my own, as if that would help decipher the credibility.

"Are you sure anything actually happened with her and Roger? I've had rumors be spread around about me that weren't true at all."

Jack's expression falters at the information, but the worry soon vanishes back to unbothered.

"I trust Roger, and he was super detailed. She was the quiet type, but also some freak in the sheets." He emphasized too much for liking. My chest tightened up.

"So you're okay with what happened to her?"

"Nah," his blue eyes flashed. "It's a real damn shame. Girls can be vicious to one another."

I nod at that part.

"But it was a real damn shame. Her and I actually made some good memories. I'm sure Scarlett's at a better school now."

The name Scarlett always makes me think of the color red. Then again, scarlet is a red shade. And red is such a prominent color in my mind. Sometimes I debate with myself whether my name is red or blue. Those are weird thoughts, but they visit me sometimes.

"What was the most memorable thing about her?" I question softly. This throws Jack off-guard, and it's not a surprise when he takes time to think hard about it.

"Probably her will. She strived for big things in her life. I don't get it." He pauses again.

"And her laugh." This surprises me.

"She annoyed me at times, but God her laugh was contagious. And beautiful."

Beautiful. That's the last thing I'd expect to come from Jack when talking about an old fling. I'm left alone with flurrying thoughts, all on different ends of the spectrum, leaving me confused. Sure, him reminiscing about her laugh is nice, but the bar is in Hell. 

"So... why did you tell me all of this?" 

"Just 'cause you remind me of her."

I don't know how to take that. We stay silent till Jack tries to brush the subject off.

"So, is there anything memorable about your old school?"

Yes, plenty of things.

"About what you said when you told me girls are vicious," I start off. "Heather Chandler was my best friend."

Jack arches a skeptical brow. "I thought you said she was your worst enemy?"

"Same difference," I blow those words off. "But really, though," I continue. "She was the definition of a mythic bitch."

I can't get anymore words in when he wraps a hand around my wrist and pointed ahead of us.

"Look!" We neared the opening that spilled out to the platform which ends in a cliff. I stare in awe. It's the best view of the island; and infinite stretch of green and vibrant wildlife.

Up here is windy, but the sunlight was especially peachy. We walk up to the edge of the small cliff to take in the scene before us. I feel Jack's stare on my side of my face. When I look at him, he quickly looks away. That's okay, though. In the end, it wouldn't matter.

"Do you think we'll ever get off of this island?" I ask randomly. "Do you truly believe no one is gonna find us?"

My voice cracked at the last three words. Jack, staying silent for a moment, turns to me and clearly forces a smile.

"Yeah." Not even he seemed fully confident in that answer. "I'm sure we will. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in two weeks, but we will."

I shift on my feet, not liking the soft spoken words from him. They sound unnatural. But we will. Deep down, I know Jack doesn't trust a single word of that.

"Besides school, what all do you have to get back to?" He addressed me. I push my hair away from my face and take a breath before answering.

"My family."

He makes a weird face. "Just family? Don't you have tons of friends?" 

"Did." Another silence.

Thinking back to when Jack had convinced himself that he could read me like a magazine, the boy really proved himself wrong. It's laughable in a way, how confident he was.

"All of my friends are here." He explained. "There's not much worth getting back to at home. For me at least."

I chuckle through a huff, anything but pleasantly as I shake my head at that last part. Me and him both. I'm shocked out of my thoughts as his elbow nudges my side. 

"And I hope you'll find some peace, Vera." 

A slight tug unintentionally tickled the corners of my mouth.

"I'm sure great things will come into your life, Jack Merridew." I smile softly. He takes my reassurance with consideration before looking back at the landscape. Soon enough, this moment will have to end, and we'll have to return to the duties at camp.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

"Jesus Christ." An overbearing sensation of dread erupts in my gut as Ralph, Piggy, Simon and I watch Captain Benson toss and turn, hacking up the almost black blood. The retching sounds made me flinch every time.

The frail man moaned nonsense, babbling on about peculiar beings that lurked in the dark. Of course! The only adult we have is now mentally deranged and can't formulate a comprehensive sentence. Because why the hell would he be normal?

The stained dark, crimson color resembled the shape of a rose, bursting from the center in all directions on the bandage that had been wrapped snuggly around his head. Piggy's lower lip quivered as Captain Benson made weak attempts to sit up, emitting pained wails.

Andy, Peter, and Greg approached, pausing in their tracks at the disturbing scene before them.

"Cadets!" Ralph promptly addresses them. "You guys are supposed to be getting wood and fruit. Let the guy breathe. Go." They back away slowly, wide-eyed and shocked by the sudden tone of Ralph's voice before dashing off.

A loud scream and splash pulls my attention away to the disruption -- Young boys swinging off tree branches, launching themselves into the lagoon like it swallowed them up. A vision of beaming faces and hair flying back. Ralph shakes his head, brown shaggy curls bouncing before I turn to leave. My eyes drift over to a certain patch of bubbles frolicking up in the water. Jack explodes through the tense surface, a sopping mop of blonde hair plastered to his head.

He takes notice of me, and waves his hand up in the air before getting dunked back under by Billy. My eyes flash into a roll when his head pops back up, and he begins swimming over to me. I walk up to the rocky edge and cross my arms, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, 'Ronica," he spluttered, wiping back the wet mess of hair from his forehead.

"Hey there, Thin White Duke." I muttered back, observing his soaking condition with distaste. Calling him the names of different David Bowie personas was far better than calling him anything else.

Watching him rest his elbows on the water's edge and looking up at me, the light immediately caught his squinting eyes. His arms are outlined by a shimmery film of water, highlighting his toned frame more prominently.

"You guys shouldn't be messing around, seriously. Ralph said-"

"I don't care about whatever Ralph said." His hand crashes into the still surface, sending more ripples across the lagoon. Beads of water leap up into my face.

"So you're saying the assembly didn't do anything for you guys?" I start rubbing the water from my skin. 

"It meant nothing."

I hide a simper and roll my eyes.

"Careful, Chickadee, keep rolling your eyes and they might just roll outta your head." 

"Screw you."

"I mean... If you really wanna screw me then by all means, go ahead. But lets at least get dinner first," he bowed his head slightly, lifting his hands up.

Uncrossing my arms, I give him a good kick in the head. "Ow-" a yelp emits from him.

"I know you're trying to deflate my head because you think I have an ego, but I don't think that's how you do it."

"Sure." I glance away, still precariously standing at the water's edge like an unsturdy candle wick.

"Why don't you dip in?" Jack launches off the edge like a rocket streaking into the water, back stroking a few feet as an alluring gesture for me to join. I shake my head vigorously at the silent beckoning and fold my arms once more with dramatic resolve.

"No!"

The same smug grin spreads across his face as smoothly as butter, only to disappear under the surface like he was never there. My brain functioning stunts itself, and I take a step forward against all better judgment. Scanning the lagoon, my eyes absorb the glossy stretch for any sign of him. There's not a bubble or a ripple, minus the ones coming from the expense of the other rowdy boys.

After moments of delicate tranquility, Jack bursts up from the water like a bomb, shattering the brief stillness with an explosion of laughter.

Without having time to think or say anything, his strong hands clasp my ankles. In one swift tug, I'm clean off the rocky ledge. The world flips, wiping away my view of the trees, sky, and sun before being swallowed whole by the water. The lagoon wraps me in a cold, dark abyss, eating the water from my lungs. A familiar burning sensation of panic sprouts in my chest, and the roots shoot through my limbs with the memory of the crash. 

I start clawing to the surface -- my legs half kicking and half flailing until I wrench free with a gasp. The water sears my nose, sending the fiery pain to lick behind my eyes. Treading the water to keep myself afloat, I whip my head around in all directions. You know that feeling as if you're a pawn being stalked by a shark? Yeah. That.

A blonde head bobs up from the surface, and all hell breaks loose. 

"What the fuck, Jack!? Are you fucking stupid?"

I'm only met with a surging spray of laughter to add to my drenched misfortune. My hands drag up my forehead and past my hairline, slicking back the wet mop. 

"My fucking clothes, Jack!" The reprimands do nothing to disarm the gunfire of laughs crackling in the back of his throat. "I'm supposed to fucking walk around in this all day!" 

"A little water ain't gonna hurt ya', Sawyer." Humor paints his daring choice of words. "Were you a cat in a past life, or something?" 

"What are you trying to do? Kill me?" I grunt, rubbing my eyes. Him saying nothing else, he swims in my direction, only calmer this time. Taking this as an advantage, I snake my arm around his neck and shove him below the surface.

He's drowning more through laughs rather than water, and he quickly ducks back under the surface before reappearing a few feet away. 

"You're an idiot, Merridew. You know that?" I send a wave of water to punt him in the face. He takes it with ease. 

"So, Sawyer," he prompts me. "That stunt you pulled with Luke was pretty severe, don't you think?"

I purse my lips to the side, letting my eyes drift up to the sky in thought.

"The extreme always seems to make an impression," I monotonously joke. His white teeth reveal themselves with a smile, clamping his lower lip with a subtle quaintness that I quickly call bullshit on. Damn you, Jack.

I disguise myself with a costume of oblivious nature as he swims closer to me, rapidly closing the inches of space. Acting like I'm focused on something off to the side, I rest on the likely idea that Jack probably doesn't have the most wholesome thoughts impatiently sitting on his mind.

"You'd assume those kids would be tired of having their hands scraped up from swinging off the tree branches by now." I breathe through a laugh, maintaining the casual attitude I'm able to front up. The silence remains like old gum under a restaurant booth, making me squirm in discomfort.

Is he not gonna say something? A frown braces my confused face when he swims closer, and I finally turn my head to look at his sultry demeanor. Perplexity spikes the water again at the foreign closeness he drinks up like alcohol while I choose to remain sober.

"What are you doing, Jack?"

When I earlier submerged out of the surface, the water had slicked my flat hair back, now clearing my surprised face to full exposure for his simper.

Not accustomed to such a high level of intimacy with Jack, I send anxious glances in every direction, frantically searching for something to use as a scapegoat, but the rock climb wall dangles with no convenient ropes for survival. Only the thick noose of tension pulls tighter around my neck.

"Your pupils are wide as shit right now," he finally speaks, intently studying my reddened face. Unmoving, I blink in position. In a last ditch effort of stupidity, I answer with an evenly monotonous splurge.

"I... wasn't even paying attention to your pupils."

His lofty stare finally crumbles at my flustered dribble of idiotic words, giving into the awkwardness for a charismatic laugh.

"What are you doing?"

Piggy barged in on us. My legs stop momentarily and I bob under the surface. The sudden voice startled me, making me forget that I was treading in water.

Thrashing back up, I turn to see Piggy with a stern look on his face. He stands at the lagoon's rocky edge with sunburned arms crossed over his chest. Piggy missed the context that would explain the bizarre reason for being in such close range to Jack

"Hey, Piggy," I mumble as I clumsily maneuver through the water to the rocky stoop. Swallowing hard, I glance back at Jack, more so looking past him, and peel myself out of the lagoon's clutches. Piggy impatiently taps his foot, resting his hands on his hips. Heat welcomes me as I step out, intensified by the stern look the nerdish boy shoots between Jack and I. With a feeling of being caught, I wring out my sopping hair as I brush past him.

"You guys really need to stop messing around," he critiques boldly. Being out of water above Jack must've served him an odd dose of unwarranted superiority. I feel embarrassed to be caught by Piggy despite not having done anything.

"And you," he turns to me promptly. I can see Jack scowling over his shoulder. "I expected better from you!"

I open my mouth to say something, though I'm a bit surprised he had the guts to raise is voice at me. The hot air grazes my wet skin and sends a sheet of cold to blanket my body. It's now that Jack chooses to speak up.

"Why are you up in her grill, dumb ass?"

Startled, Piggy flinches back at the sound of the blonde's voice, suddenly cowering. With a trembling voice, he meekly stutters out.

"Y-You're one to t-talk about being- being up in her grill..."

Arching a brow, I lean back into my hip and stare daggers at him, telepathically sending the message saying, seriously? He straightens up formally at the look, starting to breathe harder.

"What was that you said?" Jack progresses closer to the stoop, daring Piggy to say another word.

"Jack!" I hiss, meaning to grab his attention. His eyes fall on me with my clenched jaw and making a hand slicing movement across my throat while mouthing, stop!

"Don't get so buffery and stuttery on me now, you little bitch!" Jack laughed, clapping his hands together.

I sigh in exasperation and watch the blonde stand up in the shallow area. My hair is drying uncomfortably against the back of my neck, and sweat is replacing the gleam on my forehead.

"So go on! Speak up, tits!" He smiles widely, and gestures to the audience that is now narrowed on the altercation. I squeeze my eyes shut and berate my whole life at this point. Piggy digs his own grave, and Jack only stirs the pot.

"Yeah! Say it louder so we can all hear what your fucking smart ass mouth has to say!"

"Yeah, Ms. Piggy!"

"Get outta here, Piggy!"

"Kick rocks!"

"Piggy! Piggy!! Piggy!!!"

Sick, crude laughter travels up through the air around us. It so simply just rolls off their tongues and soaks up in the poor boy's ears. And with the infectious disease of cruelty floating in the air, a nasty laugh leaves Jack's lips. It just spills out so perfectly, like tipping a glass of water. Piggy's chest begins to heave from stress, nearly giving himself a panic attack.

He sends a pleading look in my direction. I purse my lips in perplexity. A silver glimmer reflects in his eyes and I could see that tears had formed, instinctively making my chest cave sickly.

"That's enough now, guys," I say in my most assertive voice. "Like, seriously. Leave him alone now."

Jack, of course, looks amused. I glare in Luke's direction when a wolf-whistle slices through the air, snickers following it. I glance down, realizing my white shirt is a bit too see through after being in the water, and my skirt clings a bit too high up on my legs. Shit. I make a face at him and whip around uppishly.

"I'm going spear fishing where Samneric are." I announce to the nosey onlookers, mainly aimed at Jack. Marching away, it's pretty quick that I hear another pair of footsteps clambering over, struggling to keep up. Literally none of these boys break a sweat when keeping up with my swift pace, except for one.

"Wait for me!" Piggy heaves many yards back, recovering from the brief distress. Stamping my foot in place, I grit my teeth and reluctantly wait. He trots over, unaware of my impatience that's wearing thinner. The moment he flashes me a sheepish grin, I breathe out through my nose to keep composure, and stride on.

"Your choice in boyfriends is odd!" He rants casually as if I will  even agree. I snap a hand up to cut him off.

"I'd sooner drown myself before dating Jack, thank you very much!" I correct him rudely. "And next time you're pissed at them, leave my name out of it."

With the conclusion, I speed up again. He stands for a moment but scrambles to stay by me at the realization that I'm moving.

"Well- Thanks." He puffs between breaths. "For shutting them up."

"Piggy, if you wanna make it in this world, you need to learn the cues of when you should keep your head down, and when you need to grow a backbone."

My tone is stern, almost like I'm scolding him as a school teacher would.

"But... you argue back with them all the time!" He shrieks critically, like he's not comprehending. I sigh, calmer now and relax the stiffened stance so I'm not speeding.

"Because I know how to stand my ground," I explain, looking at him now. "If you're gonna walk into something, keep going till you've made it to the other side. Don't walk back out the entrance, or you'll get bit. Got it?"

He pushes his glasses up the sweaty bridge of his nose, and doesn't answer. I don't expect him to, but I really don't wanna fight his battles for him.

Real life sucks losers dry. If you wanna fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly. Heather's reminder bounces in my skull like a broken record. An eagle is just another bird until it can spread its wings... I remember that from Carrie. Noticing Piggy's face; it's saddened. I catch myself and the uncalled for rudeness. 

"I'm sorry," I choke out. "That was a cruel thing of them to do."

"My auntie took good care of me, always spoiling me with treats and toys." He chuckles.

"After my parents died, she gave me everything. I think she felt guilty."

"What?" Guilt twinges in my chest. He nods matter of factly.

"It's okay, I never really got to know them anyway. I was young." He explains. I swallow the dryness in my throat to unpack everything that went on in the last ten minutes.

"Oh." Words of my voice were carried off. There's really nothing I can say. He was content, so why should I try to offer anything?

A sharp hot pain shoots up the soles of my feet. Shards. We're walking on small stones and fractured shells as we approach the rocky drop off. I bite the inside of my cheek to bear the stinging.

"I'm glad I have my aunt. That's what counts." He takes off his glasses and cleans the lenses on his shirt. Do the other boys know of this? I'm sure they do, right?

"I got glasses at the age of three." Piggy held up three fingers. "I'm the only kid in my class with them. I'm also the only one with asthma. Sometimes it makes me feel like I'm breathing through a straw when I get stressed."

Anxiety coupled with asthma. 

The rocky drop off that looks over the ocean nears, no longer a distant grey blob stalking us from the distance. Other boys from the group speckle the area, spears plunging into the frothy water.

"It's always the same with Jack and his buddies."

Him and I peer into a salty pool nearby. Our reflections stare back at us. Glistening sunlight danced with the ripples flowing over our mirror selves.

"Whatever people say about you... the insults don't define you." I say softly.

"Even if it's about your body, or the way you choose to live. After all, we're all just living on this Earth for the time being We won't be remembered for those things after we are gone." My shoulders bob in a careless shrug. Piggy forces a smile.

"I guess you're right. Thanks."

"Mhm. We need to meet up with the others." I lead him away from the pool.

We begin to make our way down the rocky steep. I strip off my jacket. The rocks were extremely slick. To avoid falling, I do a weird crab-walk thing down the slabs of stone, getting scraped by some sharp rocks in the process. Barnacles painfully press into my palms and the soles of my feet, but I finally hop down onto a rock by Ralph.

"Hey," I huff.

"Hey," he returns the half-hearted greeting. Waves crash against the rocks, salt water barely licking at our ankles. The white-ish turquoise sea foam that was tossed up rushes over our feet, tickling a bit.

Samneric are both perched up on a higher rock mound, looking across the five feet of water that separates us.

"Hi, Veronica." A casual voice greets. I look over to see Pablo with a kind face.

"Hi," I greet back softly. Maybe I'm becoming liked? In that case, I won't be subject of every male's joke, perhaps?

"What made her take ten years to get here?" One of the twins chirps pointedly to his brother.

"- The older boys, obviously." The other one cut in. "Jack, specifically," he teases in a goo-goo ga-ga voice that I hate.

They both giggle, and the twin who made the comment starts making obnoxious kissy faces. I open and close my mouth a few times like a confused fish, quickly shaking my head and deciding to ignore the childish gushing.

"No, I just got caught up with things." I correct quickly, mentally cringing.

"Maybe she's just too slow to navigate across the beach." The twin on the right continues as if I hadn't said anything. Lefty makes a loud scoff at the comment.

"And you're still too slow to navigate your way 'cross Valley Forge's courtyard."

I open my mouth to argue, but shut it again. They're like, twelve, Veronica. How sad would it be for you to argue with them? I swallow my pride and let the insult roll off my back while they bickered back and forth.

"Uh... Which one of you is which?" I question sheepishly, hoping I would pick up on their differences soon enough. They don't seem fazed by the question that I feared would offend them

"I'm Sam," pipes the right twin.

"N' I'm Eric," the one on the left adds.

"Sam-"
"-N' Eric"
"Sam-"
"-N' Eric"

The set of twins repeat this a few times. I nod, trying to find a way to differ between the two.

"Sam, Eric, Sam, Eric, Sam, Eric..." I mutter to myself. I hear Ralph laugh behind me.

Maurice squats down, staring into the water for any fish. I scan as well, eyes burning into the waves like lasers, mentally filling myself with some odd form of- determination? Ralph's arm is still bandaged in a sling making the deal of holding a spear difficult. I hold mine readily in my hands, straining my eyes to see through the frothy water.

Splash...Splash...Splash!

On the very top of the rocky hill, Jack, Roger, and Luke are throwing rocks down at us. They're mostly aimed at Maurice, landing too close for comfort.

"Hey, cut it out!" He shrieks. We tilt our heads up to the three.

"Are you crazy? Stop it!" Ralph demands. 

Roger, without changing his expression, switches angles and starts aiming his throws to Eric instead---Jack quickly picks up on this. Sam whips around, noticing the attack after his brother's sudden yelp of alarm. He tugs Eric back by the shoulder as his face morphs into a scathing expression. 

"Dorks, can you fucking stop?" He barks up to the trio. One thing I can say about Sam, is that he never seems to have the tendency to back down, even if it's a confrontation with the older boys.

"No," Jack only responds with a simple shrug of the shoulders. Before Sam can unload a handful of spiteful words for them, I stand up abruptly, making eye contact with Jack in particular.

"Hey, Jackass! You're going to seriously injure someone by doing that!" I warned hastily. The boys poutily tossed the final rocks in their hands into the water at us. Roger flung his at Ralph instead before they walked away.

"Way to show maturity!" I sarcastically called after them.

Ralph swivels his attention to the younger twins. "You okay, Eric?" 

He nods with his brother's hand still resting on his shoulder. Sam gives Eric a few brisk pats on the back, a silent show of reassurance, then looks over at me. 

"Wanna know why Jack got sent to military school?" As he pops the question, he slumps down and leans back slightly. His brother attempts to speak over him at the mention of this topic.

"It's because he was in trouble," Eric adds matter-of-factly. Anyone could've figured that out on their own. 

"So I've heard," I nod. Pablo scrunches his face in perplexity and cuts in with his own questioning.

"Who says?"

"Tony did!" Eric emphasizes. The twin sets down his spear, distracted and no longer trying to fish.

"Jack told him he took a car, and drove it down the highway." Judging by the almost scripted tone, this is how they recount the story every time. I can tell by their voices that they are fully convinced.

"He's a liar, he didn't steal a car," Pablo smiles doubtfully.

"He didn't say he stole it," remarks Sam.

"He just borrowed it. It was the neighbor's. And the neighbor was away, so he just, like- borrowed it, and drove it on the highway," Eric informs. 

"Jack told me the same thing. He probably just borrowed his dad's bicycle and rode it around the block," I joke. Eric pauses to think for justification, seemingly contemplating my small tease more seriously than needed.

"Then how come he got arrested?" 

"Yeah! By highway patrol!" Sam immediately blurts in turn. I blink, and the two are already finishing phrases.

"They caught him going-"

"-eighty!" It's exclaimed in unison. My brow instinctively raises in amusement as I smile at the two halves.

"Do you guys always do that?" I inquire, not quite drilling. "I mean- finish each other's sentences?"

"Yeah," Eric laughs. "Our parents say we have, like- twin telepathy." Sam shoots him a dumb look.

"No," he refutes with a biting sneer. "You just interrupt me all the time." His words are snuggly wrapped in condescension. 

"Do not!" Eric is quick to defend himself, seemingly offended. "You're just always the one talking! I want to talk, too!" 

"Yeah, and when you do, it kills my brain a bit each time." 

"We say the same things, dork!" 

Sam rolls his eyes and looks at me, ignoring his brother. "He thinks he can read my mind, but he's always just runnin' fuck-shit from his mouth." 

I chuckle and stab my spear down into the water. "Nah, I think it's sweet." The corner of my mouth twists into a half smile. "Cherish it. If I had a sibling growing up, I'd probably never stop speaking with them, either." 

The twins glance at each other for a moment and return to fishing. 

"Don't let them fool you," Ralph humorously chips in off to my side. "They're inseparable, even if it looks like they wanna kill each other sometimes." 

"Oh, I know," I respond swiftly. Pablo steps up beside me, nudging me with his elbow and muttering something.

"Watch this," I hear him say. He cups his hands around his mouth and yells over to the twins, projecting his voice over the crashing water. 

"Fuck you, Eric!" 

Eric throws his hands up in defeated confusion for the unprompted insult, and Sam takes no time to snap back. 

"Fuck you, you fucktard!" 

Pablo only giggles at the reaction he gained out of Sam, and Ralph and I can't help but follow suit in the bemused hilarity of it all. Sam's face momentarily falters at our reactions before seemingly understanding. He glances at his snickering brother, studying him, then breaking into a grin before returning to his task of fishing. 

I look down at the tide---overlapping sheets of blue and tossing foam ready to slip me off into a rip current. Right as I start to regain focus, Maurice thrusts his spear into the water and yells out to us excitedly. We jump up at once, stumbling our way over to him to view his catch.

"Ewwww," Pablo groans at the unsightly thing hanging at the end of the spear.

"Blech!" Samneric both grunt, scrunching their identical faces. A puffer fish is retrieved from the water. The poor thing only half alive, probably enduring horrible suffering. I snatch the spear away from Maurice and gently shake the creature off the spear. It drops into the water with a soft plop sound.

"Is it gonna die?" Eric questions me.

"I don't know," I lie without thinking as something else invades my train of thought.

"Wait, where's Piggy?" I quiz everyone, looking around. "He never actually came down, did he?" 

No one answers, and instead glance around silently to scan for the boy, indicating what I thought to be true. I groan and wipe the sweat from my temple. 

"I'll see if he's still up there," I announce groggily. "I need to go anyway." 

Making a haphazard exist over the slick drop-off, I climb up the rocks, grabbing my blazer and shoes in the process. Sure enough, Piggy forms into my view through the sunlight invading my eyes, sitting a few yards away. He has his feet wading in the pool that we stopped at earlier. I start jogging over. 

"Hey, why didn't you come fishing with us?" 

He looks up at me, hesitating for a moment. "I can't get down the hill, on account of my asthma-"

"Sucks to your ass-mar," I lightheartedly tease. He returns a dry laugh that quickly dies away. I feel my laughter simmer out with him, frowning as I think for a moment. All the while, he says nothing, looking down into the water.

"We missed you back there," I offer with a sad smile. Piggy only shrugs. 

"Maybe you did." He replies in consideration. "I dunno about the rest." 

"Well, you should join next time for sure." I extend the invite for future reference. "You might have fun talking with them-- so long as Jack and the others don't try to intrude again." I roll my eyes at the mention of it. Piggy's frown twists to the side of his mouth, breathing steadily as his feet gently kick through the pool, breaking the surface tension with faint ripples. 

"I'll think about it." He finally agrees, though I don't reckon it holds an ounce of enthusiasm. 

"Alright, well, I gotta go find Jack." I buzz my lips and huff. "I need to lecture him about how he shouldn't be throwing rocks at people." 

I give Piggy a small salute before sauntering off, and he is only able to muster a forced smile. My chest caves empathetically as I slink away, almost not wanting to leave him like this, but those emotions melt into annoyance as Jack's figure registers in the distance. Him, Luke, and Roger are sharpening spears under a palm tree. I march my way over angrily.

"What the hell, Merridew?!"

"What now?" Exhaustion drips off his bored face. Roger makes eye contact with me. Without saying anything, he turns back to his work, while Luke on the other hand, looks immensely interested.

"Since when has it ever been ok to throw rocks at people?" 

"What?" Jack challenges. "What're you gonna do if it's not?"

"You could have hurt someone!" I exclaim loudly. I hear a chuckle come from Roger.

"Since when do you care about people being hurt?" The dark-haired teen mutters, unblinking. My teeth grit like rocks pressing together while I study his vigorous slicing of wood as he carves the point of a spear.

Luke continues the tangent, "Especially since you feel the need to violently jump any person that says one comment about you."

"Ha-ha," I respond in a monotonous laugh. Jack lifts the corner of his mouth, sauntering over to me slowly.

"Hey, don't get on her," he simpers mischievously. "At least now we know she isn't just some feisty college gal." 

Continuing, Jack turns to me. "She's a feisty college girl who got a bit too bold for her own good."

Luke nods, breaking in a nasty sneer. "She'll soon enough find out that the real world isn't so soft on confident bitches."

I squint my eyes. "I've already seen the real world."

Jack laughs, raising his brows to fake his impression. 

"Quirky. Glad to hear it, Vera. When's the part where you break out into a dramatic ballad?" 

"Jack Merridew, what will it take for you to shut the hell up?"

Roger leans his head to the side while Jack pretends to think.

"I know!" He snaps his fingers. "Show me a good time that'll get me distracted enough to save your precious ears from the mouths of pesky high school boys."

He strides up to me daringly, our chests practically touching. I lift my chin and parody in the same snarky leer.

"Charming. If I threw a stick, would you leave?" With that, I step back slowly. Roger stands up, quickly defensive for his friend. Jack blew air through his lips and composed himself.

"Vera, Vera, Vera..." He sighs earnestly, shaking his head. "You really do know just how to argue when it appeals to your agenda."

Luke steps up out of nowhere. "That's how most of em' are. They're most bold when the attention's on them."

Jack's jaw drops, looking to me for confirmation frantically. I can see straight through the taunts. 

"Really, Vera? Do you like attention??"

"Yeah," Luke interjects. "Are you an attention seeking whore?"

"Am I a whore? Or am I a prude?" I press hyperbolically, leaning into my hip. "Make up your mind. The last thing I need from you three is your fucking validation." 

They lean back, the ghosts of a smirk etched on their simpering faces.

"You know, I used to have a little speech I'd tell my acquaintances when they decided they were some man God over me. Gee, Jack, I had a really nice-"

"Save it," Luke cuts me off. "If you're gonna run your mouth -- at least use it for something worthwhile." He looks at me knowingly. "You'll find it to be plenty of use here."

My face darkens. "You don't deserve a fucking speech." My palm shoves his chest as a final dose of rebuttal before I whip around promptly. 

As I walk away, I hear the sarcastic howls of, "Oh no! Not the speech!" They're echoed by immature laughter.

I grumble under my breath as I stamp off to another place that isn't anywhere near them.

"Just a sec, Luke." Jack chuckles from yards away. I mentally berate myself as I hear the approaching footsteps padding the sand behind my back, accompanied by the jingle of dog tags.

"What now?" I say flatly, keeping my focus ahead. Blondie appears at my side.

"Hope you're proud of yourself," he comments simply, digging for a reaction. I nod my head towards Roger and Luke who have gone back to sharpening spears. They remind me of how I pictured Patrick Hockstetter and Victor Criss.

"Tell your Stephen-King-IT-friends to keep to themselves."

"Why?" He interrogates. "Because they're right. You gotta stop being so annoying." 

"You guys are the ones being annoying here."

Jack disappears from my side for a moment as he diverts direction behind us, groaning, "Oh, my God," gripping his hair in the utter most annoyance. As soon as the tantrum ends, he's next to me once more.

"You just never know when to stop talking," he rants. "You always dig yourself a hole then blame it on other people. Why do you have to be such a bitch??"

"You're calling me the bitch?" I exclaim in disbelief. He nods matter of factly.

"Yes, I am. Because guess what; You're gonna deal with guys like us anywhere you go, so stop trying to change the people around you and let go of the act."

"What act?" My upper lip curls into a scowl.

"The act that you're some perfect little college girl, but don't pretend like you weren't just the same as us two years ago. I can tell, Veronica. We all can." 

I can only watch him in stunned silence.

"You're just another tell-tale example of a bitch trying to be something outside of the only town she was ever known in. You think you can just come into our lives, correcting the way we wanna live while feigning innocence? Hell no. I see exactly who you are, Sawyer. You're just another suburban mean girl. You are a copy-and-paste."

My voice drops an octave, and I look at him scathingly. 

"I will never act like you. I never have. Just because I was popular doesn't prove I was like that."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, darlin'," he jeers, rounding across my path. "Think about that next time you speak to Piggy, or Ralph for that matter. Remind yourself just how kind and righteous you are." 

Unable to speak or react for the moments following that phrase, I choke through sputtered laughs. 

"Me?" The word slices through the air. "You of all people cannot be talking about how Piggy gets treated, when all you and your friends do is torment him." 

"Oh, don't flatter yourself." Jack nearly throws his head back to laugh. "You think the way we act justifies your own rudeness towards people here. Don't act like you've been some saint. At least I know I'm shallow."

I cross my arms as he takes a step forward. Jack continues, "Men can say it with their chests. Girls like you are bitches without being upfront. You're so snake-like about it. Pretending like you're so pure."

My jaw hangs open, left at a loss for words. The blood in my veins has turned to cement.

"You act like you do nothing, but you do. You're the same as anyone here, Sawyer. Shutting people down, keeping your nose stuck up in the air, judging everyone, thinking you're the shit. Don't act so surprised. You're just subtle with your rudeness. You're mean with extra steps."

Overcome by his words airing me out, I can still only stand in silence, waiting for the onslaught to end. As it does, I swallow, and take a breath, raising my chin. 

"Are you done?" 

"Are you done??" Jack mocks back in a brash voice, striding up closer, making my stone face flinch. 

"The world doesn't owe you fuck-shit. Sooner you realize that, the sooner you'll be able to get over yourself." 

Sucking in my cheeks, my feet stay stiffly planted into the ground, arms rigidly crossed over my chest like safety bars. 

"You don't know shit about me," I say in a low cadence, keeping eyes on him. "I will never be like you." 

The sad thing is; some part of me --- way deep down --- knows he's right. So fucking right.

Jack sighs through a laugh, biting his cheek. 

"Sure. And I'm not the First Lieutenant." His words stew in sarcasm. My eyes dart to his tag at the mention of his ranking, then back to his tantalizing gaze.

"I'm tired of speaking to you, Jack." I turn to leave.

"I'm tired of you not realizing that I actually don't give a fuck." He roughly steers me back by my shoulder. 

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph- What now?!"

"Hey," Jack snaps in correction. "Maybe if you calm down and stop being so emotional, we can have a conversation like civilized adults." 

I feel my jaw fall slack under the weight of seething bewilderment as my brain struggles to even form a comprehensive response. Blinking in anger and surprise, I stammer out the first words to dance across my tongue. 

"I- did you really just-?" 

"Atta girl. Good." Jack hits me with a condescending leer. "Now, what was it that you wanted to talk about?"

"I- you can't just... we just-!"

He arches a teasing brow, and his perfectly white teeth just have to bite his lower lip the way he always does. My gut recoils in irritation.

"Ugh! God! Why are you like this, Jack!?"

He answers in lofty silence, his eyes giving me a misty look. My expression softens and I grumble under my breath in defeat.

"You know what? Fine. Be that way. All I'm trying to tell you is to just stop chucking rocks at people who are trying to mind their own business."

He raises his hands in surrender.

"Yes, ma'am," Jack answers with such simplicity. "That's the only thing I needed to hear. That's the only reason I followed you."

"Excuse me?"

"Yep, but you had to blow up on me."

Holy fuck. God, if you're real, forgive me for whatever dark actions I may take. I can't be blamed for what this shithead of a human being leads me to do.

"But anyway, purposely throwing rocks near people is half the fun. Like- you know you're missing on purpose, but it's the slight possibility of making a little mistake," he pops the last word like a bubble.

"It's not! What if you hit someone in the head?" I forcefully shove his arm.

"We aimed near them. If you're really gonna take everything I say so seriously, just know we won't hit anyone," Jack insists carelessly.

"Jack, if you hurt someone-"

"- I know for a fact, that if Veronica-Fucking-Sawyer noticed someone get hurt, she would not put up nearly the same fit as Ralphie boy." 

I swivel around, ready to explode till I notice the famous smugness plastered across his face. I recognize the sarcastic tone staining his voice, now knowing he's only kidding.

Seeing him stifle a laugh somehow makes my blood pressure rise that much more.

"Jack Merridew, you're an idiot. You know that, right?" I put my blazer back on.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll stop throwing rocks at kids. Whatever makes you happy..."

"And if Roger or Luke throws rocks again?" 

"They won't. And if they do, I'll beat them up." 

"Oh, your little besties?" I hold back a scoff, unconvinced. "Uh-huh, sure you would."

"Right," Jack answers briskly. "Who am I kidding? I'm sure you'd just do it yourself." 

"Guess I already proved that enough, huh?" 

"I must say-" he continues. "Despite how much grief Roger, Luke, and I have given you, you've lasted longer than I thought you would."

"I can say the same for you."

"Oh?" He cocks his head, grinning down at me. "I mean, our arguing does get fun. Careful, it might make me feel a certain type a' way."

I lower my chin in doubt. "So you mean to tell me that you aren't getting any sort of frustration out of our collisions?"

He shakes his head. "No, not that."

Something snakes around my waist. I realize that it's his arm.

"I wish I could say that I still hate you, but c'mon," he mutters under his breath. "Our young instincts may just get the better of us."

Oh, so he's really gonna go for this.

"Is that so?" I inquired, clamping my teeth on my lower lip. Deciding to play along, my arms hook around the back of his neck, and I feel him pull me closer - the way any desperate man would. I get a rush of adrenaline to see how easily he was roped in by the sound of a seductive tone.

He is so willing, and yet I'm not surprised.

"That depends." He shows a considering shrug. "You gonna keep asking questions?"

"Yeah," I counter. "What happens if I actually decide to start being nice? Then what?"

"Who knows," he murmurs, lips wickedly curving. "Let's put that to the test, yeah?"

Our lips are only centimeters apart with a useless barrier of air. I can feel his breath brush my face. Well, that was quick. I didn't think we'd get to this point so fast, but that proved to me that Jack was easy. The thirst and insufferable yearn for human touch was absolutely pathetic.

It didn't take much for him to eagerly press himself against me like a vile dog. For him to submit at the slight possibility that I would actually mess around with him. That thought made this all the more amusing to witness.

"Testing each other out would be the most infuriating thing to endure by the time we'd be through." I tilt my head to the side with my answer. Jack tries again.

"Probably," he agrees. "But why would I wanna waste my time on an island fighting with a girl like you, when we could spend it in other ways?"

"Why you would want to argue--I wouldn't know," I riposte. "But I think I have a bit more self respect than to engage in such actions with you."

I pull back, a coy expression sinking into my face. Jack looks at me with an open-mouth smile of disbelief.

"For the sake of humanity, Jack..." I mock his overly smooth voice, letting the words slip off my tongue like dribbling water.

"Touch some grass before you burst a vessel."

"C'mon, Sawyer. You want to tell me you're that righteous?" He squints at me. "I can read you more than you think."

"I'm sure you can," I muse in doubt, walking ahead of him.

"You're a tease." His voice floats into my ears. I turn to him. The sly grin hasn't dissipated from my face.

"Think twice before you decide to throw rocks next time, Merridew." 

He snickers softly, continuing to walk by my side.

"For real, though. I would rather propose that we become friends for real. Get to know each other, yeah?"

"I'll think about it," I tell him.

"Alright then," he purrs. "Good deal."

Not a moment later, "I've decided."

"And?"

"No."

"Damn," he lets out a low laugh. "How ruthless." 

Biting back a grin, I show a playful shrug of the shoulders and walk off in the opposite direction. 

"Have you always been this complicated?" I hear Jack's voice from behind me. "Is it because I'm a special client, or something?"

I look over my shoulder. "You're not special to me at all, Merridew."

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Later in the evening, I find myself stuck on an uneventful fire watch with the twins. Now about halfway through, perhaps more than that, Eric is sitting, facing his brother, trying to play patty-cake with the air while Sam ignores him. 

After many more long moments of sitting silently in the stuffy air with only the sound of Eric's solo game, I cave. 

"Are you inventing new ways of looking schizophrenic, Eric?" I question humorously. Eric sighs and drops his arms. 

"I need a better boxing opponent." He rolls his eyes dramatically. Sam glances at him sideways.

"I'm not playing patty-cake with you anymore." 

I let out a breathy laugh through my nose, and wordlessly shift myself closer to the twins, settling across from Eric. I lift my hands, and he catches on quickly, adjusting his seat before restarting his game, this time not with a ghost, but with me. We clap hands in rhythm, alternating high-fives.

After about two extended minutes of this, Sam speaks up to interrupt the droning beat of the game. 

"Do you guys ever feel like we're just..." He pauses, sighing, then resumes. "Waiting for someone or something that's never gonna come?" 

"That's dark," comments Eric. 

"But is it wrong?" Sam pointedly replies without looking at either of us. "It feels like we're never gonna get rescued sometimes."

"Don't say that!" His brother sits up, nerve-stricken by Sam's doom and gloom persona. "Veronica and Ralph say we're getting rescued, so we are!" 

"I don't know," Sam murmurs. "It's been weeks." 

"It probably takes weeks for the rescue teams to scrape through the surrounding path of the plane thoroughly," I jump in. "They have a lot of surface to cover. They'll find us, even if it takes a bit longer than we hoped."

"See?" Eric says quickly. "You're wrong."

Sam lets out another sigh and rests his chin on his pulled-up knees. Twisting the rings on my fingers around properly, I speak up to cut through the tension, veering the subject.

"Oh yeah," my words come through with a laugh. "On the plane- what was the whole 'whore' and 'being able to read' thing about?" A smile grows on my lips as I recount it. "I'm not mad, just curious." 

"Oh," Sam registers my words. "That." Humor finally returns to his face. "I dunno. Luke told me to call you that. He said you'd love it. I knew what it actually meant, but he convinced me it meant Women Having Opportunities to Read Everyday. I dunno."

"Ah." I smirk. "I see."

"I dunno why I believed it." Sam shrugs. "I knew it meant the other thing, but he was really convincing, and Patterson joined in to trick me, so- yeah."

"He made you sound like an idiot," Eric grins, relishing in Sam's partial embarrassment. 

"Whatever." Sam waves it off. "You were arguing for my side, so clearly you bought it, too."

"I argue for your side, because I'm supposed to," Eric says. "By default."

"Says who?" Sam gives his brother a pressing look, and Eric stops to think for a moment. 

"... I dunno."

"It's okay," I let out an amused huff. "Sometimes you gotta have people that stay in your corner no matter what."

"Yeah, guess so," Sam chips and looks at his brother. 

"Thanks, Eric."

"Thanks, Sam."

There's a small stretch of silence following, and my eyes flicker over to the fire pit.

"Fire's hungry." I move to start tossing more sticks into the flames, watching the grey smoke cloud up. Just as I toss in another leafy branch, I hear foliage snapping from somewhere down the decline of the hill, followed by someone clearing their throat.

"I hope that was just a raccoon on meth," Eric croaks. 

"Raccoons don't cough," Sam mumbles with disinterest. 

"There's also no raccoons here," I roll my eyes.

"Or meth," enters a new voice. Luke's voice. We look over as some heads pop up from the incline; Luke, Rapper, and Maurice are here to take over the fire watch. 

"You up there to show those raccoons who's boss?" Luke gibes at Eric, raising a brow.

"Shut up," the twin dismisses as him and Sam get up to head down the hill. 

"And if I had to pick you or the raccoons on meth," Sam remarks as they walk past. "I'd pick the raccoons."

Luke watches the two brothers leave, jeering at their backs before shifting his attention onto me. 

"And what about you?" He grins unkindly. "Here to keep the fire safe with speeches about your feelings?" 

I click my tongue and force a snide smile. 

"You here to verbally harass the fire, too?"

"Harass," Luke mocks under his breath as he lowers himself to sit. "Relax, princess. You're cute, but not hot enough for harassment." He looks up at me and smirks. "Unless you're offering-"

"-Alright, Luke," Rapper interrupts before I can say anything. "That's enough now." 

"You're right," Luke disingenuously agrees, fixing his eyes back on me. "That is quite enough." 

I swallow the line up of arguments and show Rapper a civil nod before trying to leave without a word. 

"Farewell, princess," Luke twiddles his fingers, fake-pouting. "Don't let those meth-head raccoons bite you on the way out."

Taking a deep breath, I look over my shoulder with a sneer, flashing him the middle finger. I have to block out his laughter on the way down. 

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Leaning against the tree at the jungle's edge, I watch the stretch of sand spill out to the ocean and sink beneath the rising tide, fading into blue. Buzzing my lips in boredom, I shift my legs to pull one of my knees up and check all the rings on my fingers, making sure they're all in place. The crunching of footfalls and clanging of dog tags yanks me from drowning in the pool of the silence. 

"Vera," Jack greets with a charming smile, slumping at my side, uninvited. Without a word, I stand up, ready to leave before I'm pulled back down by my wrist. 

"Hey, come on!" He teases. "I've been here less than a millisecond, and you're already trying to leave me on air." 

"Right," I huff a sarcastic breath. "How dare I?" 

"So," he pulls up one of his knees like I had done to rest his arms around it. "How was the fire watch?" 

"Fine."

"Just fine?" He presses, leaning closer. I look at him with a straight face. 

"Yes, it was fine." I repeat. "Do you want me to say it with a back flip?" 

Setting my jaw, I turn my gaze back to the ocean at that note. Jack remains silent, but only for a moment. 

"You're not still mad, are you?" He sounds like he's about to laugh. 

"No, I'm not mad." 

He leans forward to try and get a better look at my face. 

"You're mad," he states. "Why?"

"Why do you care?" 

"Because," Jack answers simply. "I wanna know why you're upset." 

When I don't respond, he keeps speaking. 

"I just don't understand why you don't wanna start being actual friends, which, by the way," he nudges my side. "Have you reconsidered? For real this time?"

"No."

His smile slips a little. "No?"

"No," I say again and make eye contact. "I don't trust people to wait for permission to care. If you wanted to do that, and for it to be real, you would've tried a long time ago."

Mildly stunned, Jack studies me for a moment longer, evidently dismantled. 

"Alright. You know what? Fair enough."

I exhale and shake my head, looking out to the beach once more as he resumes. 

"I hear you. I do." 

If you had, you would've already taken 'no' for an answer.

"I guess, it's just- I dunno." 

I hear him fumbling with his dog tags as I remain silent. He takes one off, unclasping it. 

"I guess I'm used to being around the guys 24/7. That's just how we are. We can say and do things without having to explain ourselves." 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him take his knife from his pocket and cut off one end of his chain with the blade. I don't question it. The severed piece appears to be only a few inches. 

"I guess I forget that, uh, girls can feel a certain type of way about things- more so than us." 

I have to resist rolling my eyes at that phrase. 

"So, I mean, I don't really know if that helps at all." He continues to fumble with the small piece of chain. "I just didn't realize that what I say or do could ever be taken so seriously, is all." 

I hear a faint snap, and a small sound of rejoice from Jack. 

"Ah- got it," he mutters, finally pulling my full attention onto him. The small severed piece of the stainless steel chain used for one of his dog tags is now a small loop brought together by the metal clasp. 

"It's for you," he holds it up. I look at him questionably. 

"I don't- I don't get it." 

"Let me see your hand."

Before I can say anything, he takes my wrist and slides it onto one of my fingers, making the puzzle pieces of what he was doing click together. 

"To add to your collection," he says, smiling softly. 

Smart. Real smart.

Sighing, I reluctantly look down at my right hand to assess the line up of rings, now joined with the new makeshift ring from Jack. 

"Figured you could use another one." His blue eyes flicker from me to my rings multiple times, awaiting my reaction. I gotta hand it to him; he knows how to deflect when he wants to.

Pressing my lips together, I collect myself, carefully eyeing him.

"Alright, Merridew," I answer steadily. "Thanks."

"Uh-huh," he chimes back with a certain pleasantry in his voice. Jack stands up and holds a hand out. 

"I want to take you on a walk with me." 

"Why?" 

"Why not?" He turns the question around. "I figured; If I'm gonna be making things right, I gotta start somewhere."

He persists with his facial structure being highlighted and contoured by the shadows of the forest on one side, and the golden light of the sun on the other. 

"Come on." He coaxes again. Inwardly groaning, I drill my fingertips into my temples, trying to massage the frustration out. 

"Fine, Jack." I take his hand, and he pulls me up. He waits for me to say something else, and when I don't, I'm sure to note the glint in his eyes when he realizes I've fully agreed, and we start walking. 

This is where the digging of my own grave begins. 

♕︎♕︎♕︎

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Hell, I don't even know if it's possible for you to receive all this.