𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

Jack bows his head in a convincing gesture after milking his little suggestion. I take him in now with the intimate distance he's standing from me.

His entire demeanor holds a confident swagger indicating that he's one of those who knows his own worth and isn't afraid to flaunt it.

I put my hands up, already spewing out excuses.

"Oh, well I don't really-"

"- Come on." He takes me by my arm, dragging me to the group of working boys. A groan escapes my lips as I already start thinking of unspoken complaints.

"I'm sure you're a pretty crafty person, Sawyer." His grip wasn't too tight, but even yanking away is useless. Welp, off to my fate I go! I reluctantly trudge behind him.

"I can tell that you have a great use of thinking skills by the way you miraculously strategized a tactical plan to get your little hair tie back to safety!"

I look at him -- all good humor renewed in his eyes.

"She's gonna help us." Jack announces to his friends. Upon my entrance, I immediately freeze. The group stares at me with their judging male eyes, prompting me to flash a glare that indicates I'm aware of the intense staring. In response, they turn away after a few smug glances to each other. Roger, while holding a gaze, whispers something to Luke and they both chuckle lowly.

You can only do so much for yourself. I remove my blazer, revealing a white, button down shirt. The boys discarded their jackets by the meeting area, wearing white shirts. There isn't a lot of conversation, but a few of them exchange mutters of speech to each other on occasion.

I watch the boys awkwardly, fumbling with my fingers as I observe them building. Some used rocks to hammer tall sticks into the ground. The twins, Sam and Eric, or Eric and Sam- whatever, work together on a shelter in concentration. They look like mindless clones, in a way. It's sort of amusing.

Roger's observations of my presence drills into the side of my face. If I were to further explain Roger's appearance you would think; 'wow, now that makes perfect sense.'

He looms over most of the boys, standing at about six feet five inches while his eyes serve a dead stare that disregards every few facial expressions he makes.

Even with a freakish persona, he wound up highly respected by his peers. Witholding a strong build, the boys stands, solid like a wall of steel. Veins protrude from his arms and travel like electricity to his hands. Just by folding his arms over his chest, everything activates and shoulder muscles flex.

Adding to the already intimidating ambience -- Iron rings hug at most of his fingers, easily making him capable of busting your nose with little to no effort.

My eyes are caught by a hook, reeled in to feast upon his presence. Like usual, I catch his eye. He says nothing, and hardly reacts with anything other than a quick scan of passive interest. 

Luke on the other hand cannot nearly compare to Roger's lean frame and chilling air. He for one, ends up on the scale with any other high school loudmouth. Luke has to be verbal to make his intimidation deliver.

Long story short; your plot armor isn't that thick, don't let it get to your head, especially when you may have no clue who you're dealing with. They stared at me for a few moments with a blank expression. 

"Okay," Luke starts, rudely urging me to do God knows what. "Tell us whatcha got." All of the attention turns to me, making my eyes widen.

I open my mouth, but close it again and look at Jack, who is wearing the ghost of a smirk. Stupidly, it only then occurs to me they're referring to the shelters.

"I don't really know," I answer truthfully. Spewing out my excuses, I start walking away until Jack extends out his arm, and I run right into him. I shot him a glare.

"Not so fast..." He purrs slyly as if to talk down on me, like I'm some kid. I shove his arm down.

"You dragged me over here, so you guys need to show me what you want to be built." My arms haughtily cross over my chest. He pokes out his lower lip.

"Aww, c'mon, Vera." He whines in mock solemn, earning snickers from the other boys. "I thought we would see your brainiac skills in action, being that you're a big college girl n' all..." He eyes me knowingly.

Rolling my own eyes, I start to walk away again.

"There's no need to be such a prude if you don't actually know as much as you say you do." The blonde jeers.

"Jack," I say promptly. "I know you're a self absorbed asshole and all, but there's no need to be so open about it." An explosion of laughter sources from a few of the younger boys, none of the older ones. Jack sends them a crude look and they silence themselves immediately.

"She sure has a mouth," Luke jumps in. I rub my hands over my face, flustered. Robert, one of the choir boys, approaches me with a kind expression.

"Hey, I can show you how to build the frames we're doing," he says politely.

Glancing to Jack, I see his frown. Supressing a smirk, I focus back on Robert. "I would like that very much, thank you." As I start walking a few yards away to Robert's example work, I look back at Jack with a smug expression -- he rolls his eyes.

"You kinda wanna do a criss-cross pattern with the leaves." Robert points to his work. "But you have to make sure the frame is sturdy, so we use sticks."

I nod slowly, running a finger down the rough wood.

"Here, you can take my frame from here, and I'll start another one," he says, smiling a bit.

"That sounds good to you?" Robert puts up two questioning thumbs up. Smiling back softly, I only nod again.

Patterson watches me curiously, his ginger hair sticking out against the green background of the jungle. Freckles splotch the pale skin of his face and arms. My eyes unintentionally flicker over to him and his friend as they exchange whispers paired with scathing stares in my direction. I suck my tongue to the roof of my mouth as my blood pressure begins to rise. I peel my focus away and lay it back over my work.

It was weird at first, trying to lace the vines and foliage properly so the building would hold up. Robert still kept an eye on me so he could correct the errors when necessary, unlike the way Jack loudly jumped up to tell me I had it all wrong.

I take off my blazer and sling it to hang over a branch, and tie my shirt up a bit to fight the heat. That feels way better. With comfort, comes unwanted attention. Someone wolf whistles to point more stares at me. Turning around, I see Luke who made the cat call.

"What?" I snap at him. He leans against a tree while his tongue grazed the inside of his lip, scanning me up and down. "Do you wanna crop that shirt a few more inches?"

My face glows red at the boys howls of laughter. Not giving in quite yet, I maintain the refusal to untie the shirt, and continue to cut away at the excess branches protruding from the sticks, not looking at him.

"Well, I won't be of much use if I have a heat stroke."

Pushing off from the tree, Luke takes a few more sauntering strides in my direction before stopping. "Trust me," he says. "You'll be plenty of use." A sneer breaks out across his serious expression. They all giggle, but I pause. What does that even mean?

I stiffen up, heat flushing to my face. With a scowl, I flick Luke off and glue my eyes back to my work, desperate to avoid looking at him. 

"He's just mad he can't wear a crop top." One of the twins quips from my right, careless as to who might hear. Faintly surprised at the input, I blink in place, and glance sideways---trying to guess the twin that just fired the shot.

"Yeah," the other adds, elbowing his brother. "I bet ya' Luke prolly wears hot pink ones when he's all by himself." 

The twins start hysterically laughing at their immature speculation, drawing the attention of Luke like a flare gun.

"Hey!" He barks. The two boys snap to attention, saluting like goons. I eye the back-and-forth banter silently. 

"Keep talkin' that dumb shit," Luke warns, "and I'll show you why you're both gonna wish you got absorbed in the womb."

Sam n' Eric make a face and exchange a look.

"What does that mean?" One of them asks probingly. 

"Exactly what I said," Luke answers with a hint of sass, tossing a branch to the side. "You're just lucky your brother wasn't hungrier in the womb, twerp." 

"Wow," the twin on the right deadpans. "That is so creative" 

His brother standing on the left still holds a face of perplexity for Luke's words.

"That's not even possible," he negates in a sure voice. 

"Um, actually-" Piggy jumps in, somehow buzzing with excitement. "It is possible! Have you ever heard of Vanishing Twin Syndrome?" 

Luke shares an eye roll with his friends, collectively uttering crude remarks about the boy. 

"I wish he'd vanish sometimes," one of the twins motions to his brother, to which he receives a swift elbow jab. 

"Sometimes," Piggy continues, undeterred. "If a twin dies in the womb, or if one is weaker, often the other twin will absorb it! Isn't that cool?" 

"That is disgusting," one twin says flatly.

"You'd totally be the one to do it," his brother mutters to him with a shrug. He seems to take the accusation to heart.

"I would not!"

"Yeah, you would, fatass." 

"Shut up!" 

Piggy barrels forward with his information spill, oblivious to the banter.

"There's also parasitic twins!" He is practically vibrating with excitement to share his facts. 

"Clearly," grumbles the uncaring twin dryly while his brother continues to argue in defense for the previous dispute, ping-ponging back and forth.

"Sometimes, an under-developed twin will attach itself to the stronger one in the womb-" 

"- Piggy," I interrupt, slightly weary. "Maybe not the best timing for this-"

"You hear that, Eric?" Apparently Sam says tauntingly. "You were under-developed, so now you're my parasitic twin."

"Guys-"

"No, no, not how it works!" Piggy flails his arms. "They literally attach! Like. A. Tumor!"

"Yeah, that checks out." 

"Sam!"

"Fetus in fetu is a phenomenon where the parasitic twin is found inside the body of the stronger twin, not to be mistaken for a teratoma, though---those are just tumors with hair and teeth," Piggy rambles. "It can be dangerous, and they need to be surgically removed!"

"I guess Eric is a turantul-tome-a," professes Sam snidely, and Eric looks ready to pounce. Piggy frowns at this. 

"Well, that's not exactly-"

"I'm not the tortoise-termite!" Eric fires back, stabbing a finger towards his brother. "You are!"

"It's teratoma," Piggy corrects loudly. "And oh! Did you know teratomas have eyeballs?"

"Piggy," I repeat, firmer this time. "Please. Before they kill each other."

He sighs in downcast, and the riled twins soon enough drop the argument, shifting to another topic. I swipe the dripping sweat from my brow and return to my work. I see Piggy look up and make a loud remark.

"Be careful!" He yells at Tony who's perched up in a tree. I tie a knot around a perpendicular stick with a vine to make a corner, and glance over to the two boys.

"There's probably a lot of things like look okay, but are really poisonous." The noisy boy explains. My eyes drift up to Tony who is gobbling away at some red and orange fruits like it's fine dining. I sigh through a chuckle, shaking my head.

"I know what's poisonous or not," says Tony indifferently. He takes a moment to practically inhale another berry. "My brother did Outward Bound and learned how to survive."

Jack minds the two for a second as he climbs onto Roger's shoulders so he could reach the top of his building's frame.

"He taught me," Tony continues, flicking a fruit pit into some bushes. Piggy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and rests both of his hands on his hips.

"Did your brother do Outward Bound in the tropics?" He asks curiously. I purse my lips as this conversation unfolds. Tony shrugs and tosses another seed. "Not exactly."

I arch a cryptic brow towards Tony's dodgy answers. "Then where?" Piggy eggs, his voice cracking. The sound makes me grimace.

In a nonchalant voice, Tony answers, "Colorado."

"There's totally different poisons in Colorado than in this place!" Piggy explodes as the other boy calmly eats more fruit.

"You gotta take precautions, or else it won't matter!" 

I pass Robert a branch and turn away from the two boys -- one concerned and one relaxed.

"What won't matter?" Jack cuts in, completely missing the context of the statement. I still marvel my work. The frames of the shelters are slowly coming along.

"Once we get rescued," replies Piggy, only to get interrupted once more.

"You better start learning to live with yourself, because we ain't getting rescued," Jack snaps. Piggy pushes the glasses up the bridge of his nose to gain the courage to respond.

"What're you talking about?"

Jack shrugs. "Just bein' logical." He goes back to work, still talking away.

"A plane goes down in the middle of the ocean; there's no wreckage, who's gonna find us? No one will." 

Attention from the other boys were focused on the scene. Simon hands me a thin vine for knot tying. I give a thankful smile, before wiping the sweat off my temple.

"So stop runnin' your mouth," Jack continues. "For a kid who thinks he's so smart, you sound like a fucking dumbass." 

"Won't you just shut up?" Piggy immediately looks like he regrets his choice of response, his eyes widening.

One of the twins raises an eyebrow, and the other one sighs as if to say, here we go again. Jack pretends to be insulted, tapping his hand to his chest.

"Are you telling me to shut up?!" He scoffs out loud. The other boy stiffens as he stammers out in defense. 

"All we need around here are positive people! Not people trying to scare people!" Piggy steps back, scared of how loud he spoke. Of course, Jack being who he is, retorts out of spite over reason.

"What we don't need around here is you, Shitbrain!" I look towards Jack and Roger who were both dying in a fit of laughter, Luke quickly joining in.

"His name's not Shitbrain, it's Piggy!" Sam teases- at least I think it's Sam. Him and Eric are too-perfectly identical.

"Yeah! Piggy!" Jack gives the twin a high five.

"You guys aren't funny." I shout back bravely. The weaker boy looks at me, bewildered that I even cut in. Luke does another wolf-whistle, causing more of an uproar.

"Everybody just shut up." Ralph yells, then jogs over to Piggy so he can provide words of encouragement. I look at Piggy sadly as he leaves with the boys still giggling in the background.

Throwing my blazer back on, I take deep breaths to calm myself. 

"Hey, Vera," Jack calls over to me innocently. Roger glances back to Jack for a moment -- they don't exchange any words, and that for some reason is even more aggravating.

"It would kill you to keep your mouth shut for two seconds, wouldn't it?" I say to Jack.

"I didn't know you were such an expert at my personality," he leans back in amusement.

"Yes, it would, Veronica. Because if I didn't, then I'd topple over and kick the bucket. Chronic disease, blood, choking, and all that jazz."

Squinting, I stare at him harshly.

"But I bet that you'd love that!" He continues, walking closer to me. My head lolls to the side as we watch each other carefully.

"What? You're not used to a little bit of heat with teenage boys, college girl?"

The nickname makes me scoff.

"Please," I chuckle dryly. "I think I've been able to manage with people a little bit worse than King Jack-ass Merridew of Valley Forge."

To finalize that, I brush past him as hard as I could. Not accustomed to someone else having the last word, he trots right in front of my path, making me come to a halt.

"You think that makes you better than us?" He stares down at me. 

Luke is quick to interject, standing by Jack. "She thinks she's special," he chortles. I sigh and rub the back of my neck in disinterest, internally cursing. Great. Another one.

"Would you mind enlightening us?" Luke tilts his head. "Or do you really think catching a wake-up call is the worst thing to happen to you?"

"You here to add to the list?" I raise a brow. 

"No. Just here to watch it grow." He bites his lower lip, still not swallowing down the smirk. 

I try to walk away then.

"I didn't say I was done talking-" Luke grabs me roughly by the arm to whip me around. "Take your own damn advice on getting into conversations," he snarled.

I stare at him, wide eyed -- not scared, just taken aback.

"Get off of me," I roughly shove him away and smooth the sleeve of my blazer.

"What goes around comes back around," he gives vague warning.

"I'll be patient," I answer evenly. "The world has a funny way of balancing itself."

"Alright, alright, that's enough," Jack snickers while stepping up, unbothered by anything.

"But she-

"Luke, she's a college girl. Come on, are we really gonna debate over this?" My eyes narrow at Jack in a hodgepodge of confusion and anger.

"And, Vera, while you're at it, please don't break out into song with that corny shit." He addresses my words.

"It's done." Finally, Luke rolls his eyes and storms away, gesturing for Roger to follow along. Jack watches him leave and turns to me.

"Hey, Vera-" I whip around, making my way towards Ralph and Piggy, pocketing the borrowed knife. The tune of his momentary confusion is audible.

"Veronica-"

"Yes, that's my name!" I call back sarcastically without turning around. "Don't wear it out!" Every day I live, I earn a better reason to hate teenage boys.

"Hey, bud." I sigh as I approach Piggy. I pat the sullen boy on the back to offer some form of comfort. He flashes a look of regard, but keeps his pout face. Ralph shrugs to me helplessly before drilling me with questions.

"Is Jack annoying you?"

"Yes."

"Was everything okay over there?"

"Sure."

"Did he cause you too much grief?"

"Just Jack being Jack." Utterly incompetent.

"And Luke?"

"Annoying."

"Ah."

Ralph chuckles, bumping a playful punch in my shoulder. I buzz my lips looking around to avoid the playful grin.

"I'm sure you're smart enough to argue with them."

"I am," I answer quickly. Ralph nods in approval, smiling. We're gonna be stranded here for pretty long. So what do I do to pass the time?

A long walk along the beach... That's all I need to clear my head. Either that or picking fruit, but I think the first option is more appealing. As the tides ebb and flow, the mood of the glittering ocean seemed to shift like a kaleidoscope of blues and silvers. Quite magnificent. Well, I'm monumentally screwed. Come to think of it, I'm not even the most steady, easy going person anymore, in courtesy of Jack with his pseudo-life of being a total asshat. He chose to reign that tirade onto me.

Too lost in thought, I don't notice Jack walking up beside me. I groan inwardly when I see his smirk.

"What do you want, Jack?" My voice delivers wearily. I turn my head just slightly. He was silent for a few moments.

"I'm gonna walk with you, so don't bitch about it, Sawyer," he says in a snide tone. "Unless we get one good conversation, you aren't getting rid of me."

I'm not in the mood to protest, and give him a side-eye as he unbuttoned his jacket. He's not wearing a shirt underneath, but the rest of the boys all had their white shirts. He smirks proudly at my staring.

"Oh, cut that out!" I demand, making him laugh boisterously.

"Why?" Jack presses smugly.

"You're offending my eyes."

He hums to express his unconvinced thoughts.

"I never liked wearing the shirts under uniform in school," Jack speaks up. I raise a brow and hum in question. Chuckling, he nods.

"Yeah, and I got in trouble sometimes." Something tells me he got in trouble all the time. Now did I get in trouble? Never. Well, yes actually. I guess you should say that my friends got in trouble. I'm that person who stays in line. With our old group, if one friend was in trouble, all of us were. It's just how it was. But did me and my friends get caught? Of course not. We kinda talked our way out of it with our personalities. It all checks out.

"Soooo- I heard you were in a choir?" Jack chuckles at the question. The heat from the sand creeps up through my soles with every step.

"Yeah. I'm head of the choir actually." Yes, Simon told me that part. "And I can sing a C sharp," says Jack arrogantly. I pretend to care about it as if I didn't already know this information.

"Oh- okay. That's cool? I'm not really much of a choir person myself."

I'm guarded, as his sudden display of court conversation leaves me dismantled.

"Oh." He quirks his lips. "Noted." 

I arch my brow at that subtle gesture.

"So what did you do before we got here?" he asks casually, gazing ahead at the landscape. I stare at him, jaw hanging open and unable to form words. Jack's eyes flicker over to me, catching my confusion by a hook.

"Well?" He nods with a hint of amusement. I clamp my mouth shut and think for a second.

"Um, I was a part of the yearbook committee, so I'd also help with the school newspaper. I did ballet for a big part of my life- didn't stick with it. I had my foot in the debate club for a couple years. There was the book club I helped run. Uhh, I played croquet after school with friends..." 

The sun rays are beating down on me with the blazer still being worn, so I decide to just tie it around my waist.

"I guess the biggest one is that I was Valedictorian-"

"Go figure," his head shakes side to side. Take a shot every time he says those words over things I do.

"You?" I asked in a flat voice, turning my head to him, slightly unnerved by his current lack of assholery.

"Mainly choir. My family sent me to military school a few years ago, which is how I ended up here, you know."

Military school. I can only wonder why.

"Did you have any grand plans for after school?" He doesn't look at me. I chew my lip and block the intense sun rays from my eyes.

"I wanted to go to University. Become a psychologist, author, or anything like that..." I tie my hair up with my scrunchie to cool down the back of my neck.

"Nothing you're too excited about?" He assumes.

"Sorta?" I tilt my head to the side, unsure of my own wording choice.

"I say we just grow up, be adults and die." Jack laughs at my little phrase.

"Still pissed about the fun we had with Luke and Roger?" he teases me by bringing up the argument, nudging me in my side with an elbow. I shrug and shake my head, pretending to be unbothered. "Nope."

"You're cute when you're mad."

"Please stop." I fretted.

"Why?" He tests the water with my limits. My breathing elevates, which serves him a shot of motivation.

"C'mon, Sawyer!" Jack slurs provokingly. "Lets hear your next big sob story!'

There it is. The string of patience snaps in my chest.

"If you want to have a little cry, then I would be more than happy to-"

"Jack Merridew, can you ever shut the fuck up?"

Well, he's done it. He touched my nerve to the point of lashing out. We both perk up as we hear a trumpet-like sound. We instantly dash towards the source of the noise, slipping on loose sand in the process.

Most insults from people would slide off me like a rain drop down a window. With Jack, it was like a bunch of drops pelting a horizontal surface, just lingering there.

The boys are already gathered around in a semi-circle with Ralph who is standing tall on a rock. The conch is grasped tightly in his hand, beautiful as ever. Roger and Jack mutter an exchange of words to each other, annoyed about the abrupt assembly. I ignore them, and patiently look to Ralph, waiting for the orders he would give us.

"We've already talked about it before. We need to build a signal fire up on the mountain if we want to get rescued." His finger points to the landscape placed in the greenery of the jungle.

"The thing is, we have to make sure this is in fact an island, so I need to take a few people with me for exploration."

A bunch of excited hands shot up, eager at the sound of exploring. Piggy for one, ducks his head down. Well, why not? I raise my hand. Ralph sorts through a few of us.

"I'll take Jack and Roger with me," he states. "I want a good handful of people so that we can split up and branch across this place."

Flashing my eyes, I stiffen up my arm as a hint for him to pick me. His eyes gloss over me, pinching my anger on. Is he serious?

"Rapper, Robert, and Pablo. You guys can come too."

Huffing a breath, I raise my brows and tense up even more, making my plead more obvious and waving slightly. He looks at me, then away again, making my jaw drop.

"That's all we need. It may take a while so lets go while we still have sunlight." Then they briskly start leaving the area, leaving me dumbfounded. I stare at Ralph, thinking he'd glance at me again, but he doesn't. I groan inwardly and jog over to catch up with the boys.

"I wanna come, too." I state firmly. The group looks back at me, and Jack looks somewhat pleased. Ralph sighs in what sounds like annoyance.

"We don't really need anyone else in the group." He holds back any facial expression. I sputter out while staring at them.

"But you saw my hand up... why can't I just go?" Ralph shuffles in the sand, glancing back to the silent boys. I roll my eyes.

"Is it because I'm a girl?" I blurt out loud, throwing my hands up.

"Yes," Roger confirmed.

"No-" Ralph puts out a hand, quickly defensive. I look at Roger, and he meets me with a shrug of one shoulder and an arched brow. Perhaps a silent indication of him wanting to study my reaction. Sighing, Ralph finally starts speaking again.

"You can start getting to know the little ones. They've been getting rowdy."

"So now I'm the babysitter?" I flop my hands down by my side. The brunette shakes his head vigorously.

"No, of course not," he insists. "They just might like to meet a new person and all..."

Yeah, sure. I bite my cheeks and start retreating back a few steps.

"Fine. Whatever. Have fun on your little scavenger hunt, scouts." I huff bitterly

"Cadets," Jack corrects me, dismissing the insult. When I look at him, he winks to egg on my misfortune. Gross motherfucker. He gives a small salute before stumbling and turning on his heel. I don't return the gesture this time, biting down a sharp retort. Instead, I stomp away and grumble curses under my breath.

I plop down on the sand to familiarize myself with the ocean and it's horizon. It's beautiful. Too caught up in its sight, it surprises me to see Piggy stepping into view.

"They didn't let you go?" He assumes.

I purse my lips and nod.

"Well, you wouldn't wanna be with Jack anyway." He plops down next to me, uninvited. I ignore him and trace random shapes into the sand. I glance in the opposite direction of where Piggy is sitting next to me, off to the treeline. I can see Simon reaching up into the tree branches and picking fruit for the shorter, younger kids next to him. They jump excitedly with each piece of fruit fetched. It makes me crack a small smile of amusement.

"We should build a clock," Piggy speaks up in a chirp. I look at him sidelong as he cleans his glasses on his shirt before inhaling in a loud snort, placing them back on his face.

"I'm sure bad vision isn't a blast?" I guess, trying to be kind by exchanging words but not looking for a conversation. He nods quickly, making the specs slide down the tip of his nose.

"Yup, I've had glasses since I was three," he holds up three fingers. I nod, recalling that information from earlier.

"I have hyperopia, which is farsightedness. I can't see things up close without it being a blur -- not that things far away are super clear, either. This occurs because of my eye shape."

My forehead tenses as I listen intently to his ramblings. 

"My eye shape causes light rays to refract incorrectly, casting images behind my retina rather than on my retina because my cornea is too flat. I can't focus on them without squinting. Squinting strains the nerves and gives me bad headaches..."

"Yeah, I can understand that."

"But my lens prescription corrects it for me, so the images are now focused. You know what retinas are, right? They're this light sensitive tissue that lines the inside of your eye. They transmit light signals through the optic nerve to the brain..."

I continue nodding as I begin to slink away in a sneaky escape before he can catch on. I feel sheepish doing so, cringing faintly.

"I'm gonna go see the little kids." I ignore his confused sputtering as I manage to get away. Most of the kids are running about wildly, unsupervised by any of the other older boys. Some are playing tag, some out in the water, the rest doing God knows what.

Three small ones are sat in a circle, talking about Alf the television show. I mask myself with the most cheerful grin possible in preparation.

"Hello," I say kindly. They peer up to me, and chorus in their shy greetings. I sit on my knees just outside of their circle. "What're you guys up to?" 

"Nothing," one answers simply. I remember taking his name -- Percy... Oh! Percival is his name.

"You're Percival, right? I'm Veronica."

"I know!" He chips enthusiastically.

"I'm Peter! I'm Peter!" Another one waves his hand in the air to grab my attention.

"Oh, yes! I do remember that!" I snap my fingers precisely. The only boy who hasn't yelled his name to me is Mikey. I remember him too -- a quiet boy. What makes him stand out to me is his Star of David necklace. Mikey's the only Jewish boy in the group.

"You're Mikey?" I ask in a soft voice to not startle him. He nods without a word. A smile softly graces my lips in sympathy for his timidness.

"It's very nice to meet you," I hold out my hand. His eyes drift up to it. Hesitant at first, he eventually shakes my hand and quickly pulls away.

"He's pretty quiet," Peter decides to add.

"So I see," I nod. "That's alright, though! I don't really like talking to people either."

"I turn ten in two months!" Percival completely disregards my words, and holds up two fingers.

"Double digits! Impressive," I nod to commend him, and he smiles shyly. I believe he is the youngest of the bunch.

"How old are you?" Peter tilts his head to the side. I pretend to count on my fingers to humor him.

"I'm eighteen years old," I answer finally. Peter and Percival burst into giggles, prompting me to as well.

"You're gonna be old soon!" Peter exclaims. I chuckle and put my hands up in acceptance.

"I suppose so."

"When do we go home?" Mikey speaks up, surprising me. I blink before answering.

"Soon, I promise." The quiet boy smiles and looks back down at the ground. Okay, maybe staying back to talk to these kids wasn't so bad after all.

"Veronica!" Two voices chorused in sync. Curiously, I turn around, only to see the twins jogging up. Oh, great! Who the hell invited Tweedledee and Tweedledum to show up? When they come to a stop in front of me, they pause and pant, struggling to catch their breath. I arch a brow in anticipation, mildly confused.

"We need help!" One spews. I sit up, now a bit alarmed. 

"What's the matter?"

"Come on, we'll show you!" The opposite twin yanks me to my feet with surprising strength. "Hey-" I start, but get interrupted.

"Yeah, we'll show you right now," exclaims the other, jumping up and down to urge me on. I open my mouth to speak my confusions, but the twin who pulled me up, starts hauling me away from the three kids. I look back at them apologetically and start questioning the twins.

"Wait!" A familiar voice shouts after me. I force the twins to stop in their tracks and I mentally berate the moment. Swiveling around, I see Piggy clambering over with a finger held up as if it will magically stop me.

"You're-- you're supposed to watch the little ones!" He tries to reason in exasperation, breathing too hard. I fill my cheeks with air and flash a glance to the twins.

"Uh, yeah, so..." I cross my arms as I slowly speak, to which they immediately come uncrossed again as the twins start pulling me away once more. I have to raise my voice as I begin to get dragged off to God knows where. 

"Can you just like- take over for a bit?"

"Wait-- Veronica!" He tries again, speed walking behind me. "They won't listen to me! And- you're supposed to stay at your post."

I roll my eyes. "Well that's too bad, ain't it?"

"What if Ralph comes back before you do?"

Stamping my foot in place, I whip around haughtily to snap my answer. "Do what you always do. Start talking!" I throw my hands in the air.

"Wait, I- aw darn!" I hear Piggy whine behind me. Sam n' Eric chorus in their snickers and giggles before leading me away.

"First of all- which one of you is which? And be truthful." They both groan like the question is a bother to answer.

"I'm Eric," says the one dragging me by my wrist.

"I'm Sam," the one leading us holds up a finger. I shoot them daring looks, but they actually seem honest, so I'll take their word for it.

"Then what's so wrong that you had to take me with y'all?"

"You'll see!" They say in unison. I'm starting to think that it's not an emergency at all. Finally, we arrive to the treeline.

"Okay, what?" I ask bluntly. Sam and Eric point up to a specific tree. I glance up for a moment, not understanding what they're getting at. "What about the tree?"

"Eric threw my shoes up there, n' now they're in a branch," Sam snaps more towards his brother. I stare at them wordlessly.

"Seriously? Couldn't you get Robert or someone else?"

They shake their heads. "No, because none of them would follow us." I roll my eyes.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" The two glance at each other.

"Can you climb up and get them for us?" 

I raise my hand to wave them off. "No-- no, I'm not doing this right now."

"PLEAAASE?" They beg even louder, matching in volume.

"You guys are old enough to climb a tree, just go get the shoes." 

They shake their heads again.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Cuz."

"- Don't wanna."

I stare both of them down. Finally, I cave. "Sure. Yeah. Whatever. But this means that you don't get to prank me anymore," I refer to the name swapping situation. They both do a pledge hand motion.

Walking to the base of the tree, I glance up and spot the shoes. They aren't even that high. Those twins are in trees every second I turn around, so what's so different about this tree?

I grab a vine with both hands and swing my foot as high as possible. With a deep breath, I hoist myself up to the first branch and change my footing. I study the pattern of this tree. The next close branch is off to the left, and the one after that is way over to the right.

Grumbling under my breath, I pull myself over to the left one, and sit for a breather. I look back up to the shoes that of course haven't moved. Licking my lips, I peer at the right branch. Gosh, okay. Carefully, my foot stretches across the blank space of air closer to the next branch. I exhale harshly through my mouth, and my opposite leg goes up on my toes so I can reach better.

Why am I even doing this? When my hand slips off the bark, I lose footing momentarily, and start to rock. No, no, no, no! My heart rate quickens, and adrenaline makes me leap to the next branch safely. Okay... Just a few more and I'll reach the shoes. These ones aren't as bad. I look to the very top of the tree. I kinda wonder how the world might look from up so high, but I brush the idea off. I'm not climbing much more than this today.

One foot after the other, I manage to heave myself to the branch that has a pair of shoes dangling. The laces are tangled up in the foliage. Quickly, I work to undo the small knots and finally drop the shoes down. I can hear the twins cheering in triumph down at the ground. Rolling my eyes, I lower down a few branches before jumping the rest of the way.

"You actually climbed the tree!" One of the two jumps up and down excitedly.

"Yeah...?" I say with uncertainty. "I still don't know why you couldn't get them yourself, but you're welcome."

"It was a bet." One admits with a wide grin. I stare at him blankly. 

"Come again?"

"Yeah," the other one sheepishly agrees. We were betting on which of the older kids would actually do it, but you're the only one who did."

In a forced state of calm with my eye twitching, I ask, "Which one of you is-"

"- Sam." One cuts me off.

"N' I'm Eric," the other chimes happily. Frustration boils in my gut, but I stare at them with a neutral face. Now, they start to shift in discomfort.

"Buuuuuut now you've been rewarded the privilege of never being pranked again!" Sam reasons as best he can. I drop my mouth open slightly and move my jaw side to side.

"...Sounds great." I answer sluggishly with a dose of begrudging sarcasm. "Totally worth it."

Standing for a few more moments, they dash off to share the news with their friends. Great. Just great. We're gonna be in this place for a long time, and I have to deal with it.

Instead of going back to the beach, I venture deeper into the wooded shade, the soles of my feet slowly recognizing the grooves and bumps of the jungle floor. Each step is hesitant, waiting for the snap of foliage beneath me so as to not roll my ankles. The smell of wet dirt and ripe fruit wafts into my nose the further in I go, picking up the hints of plant oils and wilting vines. 

This is the densest place I've seen, leaving plenty of room for the constant vegetated decay and regrowth. Just nature making its rounds. I go on walking for what feels like half an hour to forty minutes in a straight shot --- I don't need to get myself lost this early on by making sporadic turns and circles.

A depression in the Earth registers ahead of my eye sight, pocketed by the flourishing vegetation of shrubbery and trees amongst the elongated rock formations. A tranquil water hole is nestled in the basket of stone and greenery, reflecting the surrounding jungle like a mirror. The pond is glassy; see-through like the upper slope of a well-polished snow globe. 

Faintly thankful for the sight, I slink down at the rocky edge for a much needed break from walking. I grunt out a sigh, shrugging off my blazer to welcome the cool hug of shaded air. My shoes and socks come off next to wade in the water. The tepid surface reaches halfway up my calves. Buzzing my lips, I gently kick my legs through the pool, stirring up the metallic perfume of dissolved minerals. 

This has been the most peaceful encounter of the day- the only one. I think about my frustrations for Ralph, and him telling me to hold back from their exploration, though I suppose I'm partly doing that on my own right now. I can't necessarily consider this an investigation rather than a simple detour --- Perhaps this is the better option. Still looking down into the glossed-over pool, my eyes flicker to the light sunburn brushed across my arm in a pink bloom, not dark or festered enough to be considered a true consequence of the sun yet. 

Dumbly, I pull out the small knife I'd borrowed earlier, gently grazing the blade horizontally across my arm to remove any dead skin. The sunburn is too premature to be peeling already, but I always scorn the sensation of it. I don't press the blade harder than needed. Only my fervent concentration is hard-pressed enough to illicit a headache if I carry on long enough. Mother would be screeching at me for the need for sunscreen if she were here right now. 

So much for being a helicopter parent, mom. 

The faint buzz of the island's inhabitants drone on in the background as I let my mind drift. Do mom and dad know? Surely they'd have gotten the news by now. That's right. The airport would've sent out for help the second our plane's signaling got cut off. It's almost certainly plastered all over the news right this very second. I can only imagine what mom and dad must be thinking. They may never let me fly again after this, and I won't protest.

Another thought to plague me. What if we're never found? No. Don't think like that. They have to be sweeping the plane's route already, scoping out the surrounding islands for marooned individuals. We'll be rescued soon. We will.

A hot slice of pain lances across my skin as I drop the blade with a hiss. I hear it clatter against the stone as I assess the damage. Of course I'd zone out enough to give myself a cut. Groaning, I watch the thin drizzle of blood begin to slither out. It's only a slight graze, just longer than half an inch. The kind someone would get from shaving too fast or with too much pressure. 

Careening my frame forward, I slowly lower my arm into the pool. The vision of red disperses as the bleeding nick meets the clear water, revealing the extremely pale tissue underneath. I pull my arm back out, and the blood immediately replaces itself in the shallow dent of my skin. 

Nice one, Veronica. Real smooth.

I dip my arm down once more, watching as the red unfurls away in a faint, wispy cloud, not enough blood to be any more than that. Then I pull back once more, tightening my lips in quiet self-reproach for being so careless.

"Careful." A voice slices through the stillness. "You know what they say about blood in the water." 

I yank myself around at the sudden noise, my formerly calm nerves suddenly ignited with a fight-or-flight response. Upon practically throwing my neck back to see who's behind me; there, just a few feet away, stands Roger. An unusual sight. Stunned, I blink for a moment, the words stalling at the back of my throat as he looms.

"You put a target on your back that way. You're gonna get swarmed."

"Yeah," I stagger and face myself slightly away. Trying my best to not appear totally floored, I clear my throat and settle, unable to conceal the faint smile of confusion tugging my lips.

"They can smell blood from miles away." His simpering words slew carefully out as he progresses nearer. "They'll crush that girl." 

Saying nothing more, he fumbles in his jacket pocket for a moment, and roughly tosses to me what looks like a piece of cloth. I clap it between my hands midair before it can fly off into the water, and I peer at it. Gauze. I look at him questionably. 

"The safety kit from the plane." He responds in dry explanation with nothing more. 

"Thanks," I grumble lowly and press the small square of gauze on the weeping nick, turning back to the water hole. The dull clicking of his shoes crosses the stone ground leading to the rocky ledge. Sure enough, he rounds over to my right side, squatting down, but not fully sitting. 

Wisps of dark hair fall over his eyes, not hiding the sharp contours of his face. 

"You know how to handle that thing?" He gestures to the discarded blade. "-Or you just that inexperienced with attempting suicide?" 

His clipped words lack humor, as does his blank expression. I roll my jaw and glance at the knife before looking at him complacently. 

"I was just cooling off."

"You certainly were." His steady words follow without a pause or beat, unblinking as he glances at my strewn blazer. 

"You must not get out much," Roger assumes, meeting my eyes once again. I gesture to the surrounding trees. 

"Given the state of our situation, I'm out all the time now."

"Aren't you just so quick?" A leak of condescending amusement finally reveals itself in his low voice regarding my sarcastic remark. I must say, his aptness for humor has an odd lack of enthusiasm, making it hard for me to get a read on him. Furrowing my eyebrows, I don't even answer before he speaks again in the same vacant deliverance. 

"I'm talking about your lack of self-awareness." 

"I was zoned out," I answer flatly. "I don't suppose you ever zone out from time to time?" 

"On a rare occasion," he continues in the same cadence. "I don't suppose you've ever held a knife?" 

"Oh, my God." 

"I thought we were both asking dumb questions here, Sawyer." 

I roll my eyes to show my agitation, smiling softly, no longer put off by his rigid manner. I lift the gauze, peaking under to assess the leaking blood as an excuse to not look at him.

Roger just watches with the same dead-pan expression as if he's silently reading me, his sharp jawline faintly clenched. 

My brows furrow after a moment of contemplation, suddenly realizing. I quickly meet his eyes.

"Why did you come over here again?" I speak up, sounding somewhat incredulous, though my confrontation does nothing to scrape his icy barrier one bit. 

"I sensed blood in the water." He references his earlier words simply before sliding the knife out of my hand, not touching me. 

"See you around." Without another word, Roger rises up, unwavering, and makes his exit. I eye him as he lurks off, disappearing into the dense maze of trees. Puzzled by the interaction, I stew on his words. 

They can smell blood from miles away.

They'll crush that girl.

Rubbing my temple, I move to crush the scrap of gauze in my hand, shoving it in my pocket as the faint bleeding is ceased almost completely. If Roger was so close by, I'm sure the rest of the group can't be much further out- assuming they branched off to cover more space across the island. Pulling my blazer on, I grab my shoes and start making the walk back in the direction I came from. The trip back somehow feels quicker than the trip in. 

Without any clear time estimate, I exit the treeline, greeted by the salty breezes of the folding sea and golden view of the stretching sand. I can't make it out five steps until a noisy voice interjects in the air off to my right. 

"Veronica!" 

I look over to the fast approaching voice.

"Veronica! Veronica, there you are!" Piggy trots over, extremely flustered, slipping on loose sand as he catches up to me. Showing a gentle smile, I greet him in a curt tone. 

"Hi, Piggy," I say. "Sorry if I was gone too long." 

"I thought you were lost!" He explains in exasperation. "And these kids- I can't keep up with 'em!" 

I glance behind the boy and see them all scattered across the beach, running around wild as younger boys typically do. No cause for concern as they're still in the general area. With an arched brow, I glance back at Piggy who is still in a mild panic. 

"I swear! They don't sit still! Ralph's gonna kill me!" He seems to have taken his job very seriously. Laughing under my breath, I lay a casual arm around his shoulders to calm him, leading him back in the direction of camp. 

"Come on, let's go." 

♕︎♕︎♕︎

After so much time has passed, the group gets back. Jack still struts as arrogantly as ever with Luke trailing at his side. I think about the conversation by the pool, when he strayed from his group. They make a beeline in my direction as I expect. They just can't leave me alone. 

"Sawyer!" Luke's sharp voice rings out as he eyes me up and down, whatever thoughts on his mind being far from innocent. "I see you're still dressed like some school girl magazine porno shoot." 

"Luke," I greet back tersely as Jack saunters nearer. "Fighting words for someone who'll never touch."

He clasps his hand over his chest like he's been shot in the heart. "Ouch," he winces. "You might actually owe me something after that." 

"Yeah, right." I scoff, dismissively flicking my eyes away. "Fuck that."

"Not even if I ask nicely?" 

"You have a left hand," I say, widening my eyes under a facade of innocence. "Use it." 

Flashing a sleazy smile, Jack leans against the palm tree I'm standing by. "Still polite and charming as ever, I see."

It's my turn to look him up and down, noting the unbuttoned jacket and cockiness and all. 

"Missed me?"

"No."

"Awwww, I missed you, too!" He places his hands over his heart mock-lovingly.

"Uh-huh." I walk away, only to have them rush up at my sides like lost puppies.

"How was babysitting?" Jack questions, a taunting nature canopying his words. It earns a snicker from Luke while I flash my eyes at him. 

"Horrible. How was the scavenger hunt?"

"Great!" He exclaims in a facade of enthusiasm. I press my lips together and bob my head in a single, prompt nod.

"So, Vera, turns out that this is in fact an island! Crazy, right? Cuz no one saw that coming." He places a hand to his forehead in melodramatic shock. I glare at his little show that's clearly just a jab at Ralph for wanting to explore in the first place.

"Because Ralphie boy couldn't apparently figure that out for himself!" He gasps and high fives his friend.

"Well, just consider yourself proven correct." I shrug, a sense of care lacking in me. I'm sure Jack knows by now I've caught onto the constant use of the nickname. Smart one. Eventually, he'll wear it out and I'll be immune to getting annoyed by it.

"So, what did you guys find?" I ask civilly for once, fueled by my genuine curiosity for this place. To be fair, I wouldn't have to ask if they'd just let me come along in the first place. Jack even looks surprise that I asked something without a trace of mockery, the way I had felt earlier.

"Well, we're gonna have the fire up on that mountain, according to Ralph." Not used to sharing words that aren't full of spite and quarrel, he makes the attempt to egg me on.

"Is that a problem?"

I look at him, puzzled. "No? Why would it be?" He pauses, seemingly understanding.

"Nothing. Don't think too hard about it."

We're cut off by the conch blaring through the hot air. The three of us perk up at the sound.

"Chief's a' calling," Jack groans. I rush over to the clearing, splitting away from Merridew and Luke. The authoritative brunette stands atop a large boulder like it was some platform. He surveys the gathering crowd of people. God, he's really on his high horse.

"This is actually an island," Ralph announces with bold letters.

"What an astute observation," I grumble bitterly to myself. What does he want us to do, applaud? He only ignores the snickering remarks from Jack and his friends. 

"Thing is; it's like we thought. There's no sign of civilization or anything. There's not even any signs of man made architecture that've been abandoned. It's fully uninhabited. We're by ourselves." 

Some of the boys share looks of excitement, others like look fairly worried by this.

"We wanted to start our fire, but the sun's going away too fast," he explains. We all look up to the orangey-pink sky on cue. "By the time we get to the mountain, night will fall, so there's really no use."

Ralph sees my face, and a word starts to form on his lips, but he stops. "I think we should just rest for tonight and start the fire first thing in the morning." People share around words of agreement, and I find myself nodding.

"Anyone else want to speak?" Ralph holds the conch out, up for grabs. Maurice holds his hand up and retrieves the shell.

"What are we going to do about the food situation?" 

The boys voice their similar opinions, and Ralph is quick to answer. 

"So, far," he begins, "we've been relying on fruit, but we'll need to figure out ways to fish soon. I think we could use the net from the kit we got from the plane."

"I'm hungry," Tony speaks up. "We'll need more than fruit if we're gonna survive past a week."

Piggy starts anxiously jumping up and down, hand stretched up into the air. I raise a brow as I watch him retrieve the conch

"Actually!" He holds a finger up. "The human body can survive without any food for up to three weeks!"

The group immediately bursts into prolongued groans of unison, and nearly every pair of eyes start rolling, minus Ralph's. I have to ignore the grumbling chatter of annoyance to hear Piggy finish. 

"If you wanted to survive longer than a week, though," he goes on. "You would have to have water. If you don't get water for more than seven days, you die." 

Tony takes the conch back. "My point still stands, Know-it-all." 

A cloud of snickers congeal above the group, only hushed by Ralph. Robert's hand goes up next, and Tony passes him the shell.

"We just need to figure it out soon," he expresses, trying to find middle ground. "No one is arguing about that." 

"Yeah," one of the twins jumps in, and I can see Piggy itching to mention the conch. "I'm so hungry, I could eat at Arby's!" 

"Oh, my God," exclaims his brother. "He really is hungry!" 

"Yeah! Me too!"

The murmurs of boys stir up like a pot of soup, voicing their amalgamation of grievances. 

"Alright!" Ralph rolls over their words. "I know we're all hungry and need energy. Once we get the fire figured out tomorrow, we can start finding out how to get real food; Fishing, and perhaps trying to hunt pigs. We can't cook meat without a fire." 

The older boys nod, glancing at each other. 

"Anything else?" Ralph holds out the shell. "Last call for questions if you want to discuss with the group."

I look around, waiting for someone to make a move. No one does, though.

"Okay then," he says. "You're all free to go."

"How kind of you," Jack calls loudly. I squint my eyes at him. How was that even necessary? Too caught up in my own thoughts, I'm surprised when Ralph approaches me with an apologetic expression.

"Hey," he sighs. "How are you?" I purse my lips, looking him up and down.

"Good." I don't return the formality. He bit the inside of his cheeks awkwardly and places the conch onto the rocks.

"Listen, I'm sorry for not letting you come with us." He says prominently, not softening his tone. "And for the record, its not because you're a girl," he laughs. I raise my brows.

"Then why?

"Because I thought you would get annoyed with Jack and his friends. It would start up an argument and I wasn't in the mood to hear it."

I nod coolly. "Fair enough, I guess..."

"So," he says. "Are we still good?"

"Yes, Ralph." My lips reluctantly form a content line. He smiles and awkwardly moves his hand like he's going to pat me on the arm, but he retracts his hand back before the contact is made and clears his throat.

"Good."

Regardless, I wish I had gone. Oh well, the past is the past, I suppose. 

"Rest well tonight, Veronica," he waves me off politely.

"You, too," I bleakly answer.

I wanna get in bed so we can light the damn fire, and get off of this island. The sooner the better. I find a place next to Simon, still a very decent distance. We exchange our small 'good nights' and I roll over to sleep.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

The next morning, we gather around the meeting spot as planned, hearing out Ralph's instructions.

"If everyone gathers dry wood, we can head up the mountain in a group."

"How long do we have?" I question. Ralph thinks for a moment.

"Fifteen minutes? I know we don't have any clocks around, but just estimate it."

"This is when a sundial would come in handy." Piggy attempts to add his words. A few of the boys start snickering and muttering to each other at his words.

"You're right," I speak up softly when I notice him shrinking back at the cruel reactions.

"Actually, some of us have watches!" Jack called out, showing off his wrist. I raised my eyebrow at his odd enthusiasm for a watch.

"Alright then. Fifteen minutes. Don't go out too far where you could get hurt. We don't need any injuries. Let's go now."

We all dispersed from the spot. Sam n' Eric brushed into me as they rushfully skip past me. Turning to yell at the twins, I jump back when I see Simon.

"Hello, Veronica Sawyer." He greets me softly with a peak of a smile.

"Oh," I chirp, slightly startled. "Hey there, Simon." He pauses before speaking.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yep! Ready as I'll ever be," I chuckle. Sometimes I wonder why he was admitted into the military school. I mean, I think there's more to him than the others say -- they're all denser than a pound of bricks -- but Simon's kind. Some of them wouldn't know a thing about basic decency. I haven't heard Simon say anything bad about a person once. I haven't heard him say much at all.

We haphazardly maneuver through the cathedral of trees. The gentle filtering of sunlight through the foliage rains a fine shower of light and shadow to sprawl across the forest floor. Still, it doesn't make the deal of trying to avoid tripping over jutted-up roots any easier.

The sharp contours are softened here and there by the moss and blooms. Glancing behind us, I scan for a sight of the others nearby, but there are none. I force myself to sigh the worry off and trek on. A blend of earthy scents seeps in the atmosphere as I shuffle over some loose bush, minding the way Simon can pick his way through with ease.

We don't exchange any words for most of the walk while gathering wood. It's not an awkward silence, though. That's an odd change. I think about the crash, reviewing the incidents of my life leading up to this. My thoughts are interrupted when a vine grabs my foot, making me trip.

"Are you okay?" Simon asks suddenly -- it's the first time either of us had spoken on this walk. I nod in reassurance.

"Of course, it just caught me by surprise.

The quiet boy takes my arm to help me stabilize my footing. "Are you sure?"

I smile graciously for his concern. "You don't have to worry," I gesture to myself to show I'm alright. Simon opens his mouth, but closes again, and studies me. He appears to be mentally debating something.

"Is something eating at you? Anything you're thinking about that's plaguing your mind?" He asks sort of hesitantly. I want to giggle at his wording, but I shrug.

"Just thinking about high school since, you know, I was supposed to be going to tour a University."

He flings a wet branch into some bushes before looking at me.

"Do you miss it?"

"What, high school?" I raise a brow. Simon only nods.

"No. I don't think anyone misses high school once they graduate. Sad, if you do." I settle on that response.

"I don't think I'll miss these people when I graduate, either," Simon admits. He pauses then looks at me curiously. "Wait, what did you not like about it?"

I think about my old friends -- a bunch of pretentious snobs. They put on an artificial front, but deep down they were cut-throat bitches just waiting to turn on each other.

"Well, my old friend group was something else," I say, inwardly laughing. This piques interest on Simon's face, so I continue.

"Their names were Heather Chandler, Heather Duke, and Heather McNamara."

"They were all named Heather-?" He sounds unsure. I roll my eyes at the thought of them.

"Funny, right? And they thought it was the brightest thing."

Sometimes I still mentally berate myself for getting caught up with them.

"That's a bit curious," Simon observes.

"I was kinda the black sheep of the group because... you know- the name." I reference myself. He quirks the corner of his cheek in contemplation.

"That's not fair to say," he shakes his head. "I like your name."

"Thank you, Simon."

"You're welcome," he replies kindly. I decide not to continue, but Simon's next question denies me of this intention.

"So, what were they like?"

"Well, they were practically the female versions of Jack, Luke, and Roger." I see Simon crack a confused smile. 

Heather McNamara, the head cheerleader. Heather Duke, no discernible personality other than being a complete and total snake. And then there's Heather Chandler... She is a mythic bitch. I scoff at the thought of her with that cherry red blazer, and the flowing blonde hair that everyone gushes over like fangirls. Red is such a powerful color, as Heather C. always said. How she'd practically glide across the halls as she'd elegantly strut to class.

The jocks of the school were insufferable creatures.

"I also knew these two boys. Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney." I roll my eyes thinking about the two jocks, and audibly gag at the recollection of them hitting on me. They were just... idiots. Calling them the smartest guys on the football team is like calling them the tallest dwarves; it doesn't work. Jocks are a bunch of raunchy teens who hardly take interest in any intellectual activity. They eat, sleep, and breathe sports, whether it be football, basketball, or baseball.

Cheerleaders aren't much better, of course. Heather Mac was a cheerleader herself, Heather Duke also formerly holding a place on the squad. Their famous words were, beauty is pain. My goodness, they suffered for their talents in the end.

"Those two boys had their eyes on the Heathers. Then they followed me around like lost dogs after I joined the clique---but I digress. The power of being with the Heathers was a currency that I cashed in as needed. I started to help get them out of trouble. I could forge hall passes for them. Report cards, permission slips, absence notes... you name it. I can copy any handwriting down cold."

I brush my hair away from the shoulder and hesitate.

"I guess I was in this head space that I had to impress everyone."

"Oh." He says softly. "Did it always work?" 

As a wordless response, I suppress a smile and nod. I knew it was wrong, but I felt rush every time I did it.

"I guess I wasn't really friends with them," I profess, coming to a sort of realization. "They were like people I worked with and our job was being popular, and shit."

No longer paying attention whether or not Simon is still listening, I carry on my speech word spew without a second thought.

"My last year of school was when I met Jason Dean." I purse my lips at the name, almost as if disgust had mixed with a bitter sadness. 

"Who's that?" Simon breaks my line of thought.

"Jason Dean was my, uh, boyfriend." I mentally make quotation marks.

"I'm sure you miss him right now," Simon remarks empathetically.

"Oh, no, I don't." My lips zip shut as the words leave my mouth, and I can't ignore the bewildered expression on Simon's face. 

"Oh, okay." His words are blank, and he goes back to gathering wood. "You must've spoken to him right before you left, then."

"Suicide." I blurt out, on autopilot. "He killed himself, so- uh, no." 

"Oh, I'm sorry." Simon glances to the side and says nothing more. I inwardly curse myself again. 

"No, I'm sorry," I say quickly, pressing my fingertips to my lips. "I feel like I'm word-vomiting right now, and it's hot outside, and- I'm stranded on an island with no other girls, and-" 

I inhale back my words and press my palm to my temple. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

"You're okay," Simon shrugs simply. I fold my arms and press my lips into a straight smile, bobbing my brows once. 

"Alright," I answer briskly, mentally kicking myself. Biting the inside of my cheek, I veer off to the side, deciding not to speak anymore. After a few more moments, Simon speaks up.

"People always call suicide victims selfish but I think they're normal people that got lost in their own lives." He glances up at me kindly. I nod.

"I guess you're right," I sigh, ready to drop the topic already. The sound of the conch reaches through the air, barely tapping the spot we're at. On cue, Simon and I gather our wood collection and start scrambling towards the direction of the beach.

"Oh, and Simon." I speak up, making him turn to me. 

"Can you make sure this doesn't get to Jack and the others? I won't hear the end of it if it does." 

"It's not my story to share, Veronica." He shakes his head vigorously. I give a quick nod of thanks, and leave it at that. We continue our jog to the meeting spot.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Ralph had us reconvene at the platform, his very presence commanding attention.

"Are you guys ready for the hike up this mountain?" Ralph tries to exclaim enthusiastically. A groan rises up from the group.

"Color me stoked," I utter under my breath.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

♕︎♕︎♕︎

I feel like I'm not as sorry as I should be for some things -- and that makes me feel even worse.