𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐰

"Fuck."

The heat bit my face in a feverish reign, making the occasional hiss jerk out of me whenever a wince or twitch braced my face. That loathful sting bloomed over my cheeks, meaning only one thing... Sunburn. Shit.

On the other hand of me struggling to leg it up the mountain, Jack effortlessly travels up, belting out his cadence chants, which the other cadets echo in a uniform rhythm.

"Mama, mama, can't you see?"

"Mama, mama, can't you see?"

"What the Army's done to me!"

"What the Army's done to me!"

I mumble the words begrudgingly under my breath to push through the pain of this fucking journey.

"They put me in a barber's chair!"

"They put me in a barber's chair!"

"Spun me 'round, I had no hair!"

"Spun me 'round, I had no hair!"

"I used to drive a Cadillac!"

"I used to drive a Cadillac!"

"Now I'm marching with a pack!"

"Now I'm marching with a pack!"

God! Do these words ever end? Stopping, I try craning my neck back to spot Simon and beckon him to walk with me, forgetting that one of the twins are immediately behind me. It could be Sam, or Eric - Whoever it is rams into my backside with an unsuspecting grunt.

"Oh!" I exclaim in surprise as I get slightly knocked forward. Breaking away from the chant, I offer an apologetic cringe. "Sorry!"

Sam or Eric scowls and shoves past my frame to head onward, his brother close behind. He parodies in the same, identical facial expression, and it's clear my feeble apology has been declined.

"Damn," they curse under their breaths in unison, unnecessarily offended for such an idle error. I purse my lips and filed back in line. A chance for solitude is overdue.

"I used to drive a Chevrolet!"

"I used to drive a Chevrolet!"

"Now I'm marchin' for my pay!"

"Now I'm marchin' for my pay!"

Pausing again, I instead step aside rather than in place this time, taking note of what I did last time and how that went embarrassingly wrong. I slump forward and heave big breaths of air. The lumber falls from my arms and my hands find my knees. Luke scopes by coyly. A sneer carves itself on his face at my pathetic stance. My face falls, preparing for a typical bag full of sexist words.

"Too exhausting for you, princess?" He assumes, cocking his head to the side in taunting solemn. He moves in such a serpentine manner. I take on a defensive air, ready to retort with a fact check, but Roger immediately appears by Luke's side.

"Keep it movin'," he flashes his eyes in a somewhat daring manner. They both stride past, exchanging snide remarks that I can hear.

"You'd think she'd have the stamina by now, if you know what I mean..."

"Prudes don't gain the stamina, Luke."

Gross. I rest my hands on my knees, still slouched forward and make an exasperated sound when they glance back to snicker. I squint at the two. God, I hate teenage boys. I let out a sigh and mentally berated myself for being so foolish.

Recomposing my unbothered stature, I hoist the wood back up and roll my eyes. C'mon, Veronica, I mentally encourage. Don't let these boys prove themselves right about you being some primpy little college girl. Huffing out, I resume my pace.

The joints in my knees rasp as we heave up the extremely steep mountain, muscle fibers tear and grow. Of course, the hefty amounts of sticks and wood spooned in my arms doesn't help the cause, weighing on my back so my spine curves unnaturally.

A new found surge of joy seeps through me as we reach the top that seemed nearly impossible to reach. Some of the group cheers and I can't stop a smile from creeping on my face.

Great waves are crashing violently below the rocky cliff. Peering over the edge, I see sharp, jagged rocks shoot up from the ground. The dark, velvety ocean pants as the deep blue gets shaded with the huge hill barricading the brightness, woven with threads of silver from the pale daylight. Frothy walls of saltwater tower up into the atmosphere before collapsing down again and dissipating into tainted foam, ready to swallow an unfortunate victim. It's a hazardous place.

Slowly backing away from the edge, I move and pile my sticks with the rest. The grass up here is strewn and dry, proven by the gangly beige color as it all crinkles in the breeze like paper. Shutting my eyes. I take the moment of refuge to deeply inhale, welcoming the cool breeze to rush over my face.

"Enjoying yourself?" The smirk is visible in Jack's voice as he travels across me. My eyelids part open to view his hopelessly arrogant demeanor that's constantly clinging to him. A vision of radiant confidence. 

"Trying to," I sit into my hip, taking in his rugged appearance. "It's kind of hard to enjoy being alive when you have an ugly cur always invading your presence."

He pokes out his lower lip, placing a hand to his chest.

"You poor thing." Jack breaks out into laughs and looks back at his friends who wear cruel grins.

"Hey, guys! Did you know that Veronica's studyin' psychology?" Jack's words are oddly enthusiastic, lacing suspicion through my mind.

"Or in other words..." he drawls on, looking back at me in a complacent manner. "Fake science."

This inevitably stirs the teens up in their rolling storm of immature cackling as I continue the stare down with Jack. Potent enough to strike lightning. Roger's eyes steadily drift to me -- Perhaps intrigued or entertained, but not much shows on his straight face as the rest of Jack's friends have hooted into laughter. 

Ralph shoots them all an authoritative look, and then he glances at me like he's contemplating saying something. Of course, he doesn't. The blonde and brunette drop to a squat in front of the pile of lumber, buzzing their lips.

"So how're we gonna do this, chief?" Jack glances at Ralph who is resting his elbows on his knees. The mutual respect lingering between them is surprisingly tangible, on the contrary to Jack's obvious jealousy.

They glance around, searching for anyone else's suggestions that I had tuned out.

"I guess rub two sticks together," Ralph shrugs and laces his fingers together. Jumping into action, Jack takes two pieces of wood. Damn, he really is desperate to take some sort of charge.

Jack stares at the two sticks intently, focusing on the firm friction that would hopefully catch flame.

"Let me try it-" Ralph attempts to take part. The blonde smacks his hand away.

"I got it!" Jack snaps. The chief rubs the back of his own hand, surprised by Jack's harsh strike. To our dismay, the harsh wind is preventing any flame from igniting. Jack whispers a hushed curse.

"Shit." Again, he inhales through his nose, and exhales through his mouth slowly. Sweaty hands shakily steady themselves as he repositions his firm grasp like he's preparing for some rocket launch off.

"Haven't you asked if anyone's got matches?" I ask the two boys in their struggle. Jack glares up at me from his squat position, a lock of blonde hair falls over his forehead.

"Don't you think we already have, smart one?"

I raise my hands in defense, and Jack wordlessly goes back at it, mumbling remarks. In his sudden burst of frustration, the two sticks snap at the intense pressure. I have to repress the smile pulling my face.

"Well, go again," Ralph nudges him impatiently. Under stress, Jack licks his stiffened lips before going at another attempt. Another great gust of wind rushes past us, cackling with its effect.

"God, damn!" Jack set his jaw as the patience dwindled. I walked over to pause him, stepping over discarded sticks. He glanced up at me, uninterested.

"Wait. Shouldn't we put rocks around it so it doesn't spread?" My hands place on my hips. Jack waves me off.

"There's no need." He insists. "We just need to keep an eye on it. Now back up."

Then not a second later, there's a snap.

"Mother fucker!" Jack curses as he grips the two broken halves of the stick in his hands.

"Swearing won't help--"

I can't shut the boy up in time. Jack abruptly whips around, harshly shoving Piggy in his chest with a rough, but dull collision sound.

"Listen, Piggy. Shut your stupid ass!" That's my cue, time to jump in.

"Jack, stop!"

"Merridew, that's enough." Ralph appears between the two opposites, and Jack instantly backs off. I turn to the shorter boy, and my face softens with realization.

"Hey, Piggy..." My voice is fragile and breathy. "Can I see your glasses?" 

He wears confusion like a mask. "My prescription will be too strong for you."

"I don't need them to see," I groan and shift into another stance. "You're farsighted, right?"

"Right," he replies, sounding uncertain of me. 

"You have convex lenses then." I have to suppress the enthusiasm in my voice. "We can light a fire with the lenses!"

"I'm surprised you were even listening when I told you that," he mumbles while slipping the glasses off his face. I take them wordlessly as he hands them over. 

"Please don't break them."

"I promise I won't." 

Kneeling down by the fire, I angle a lens in the sunlight. Jack snickers as Luke leans to whisper a remark. The two boys cross their arms in doubt while I keep my focus.

"Go on, Sawyer." Jack taunts while Luke sneers. Roger stands with a sort of quiet amusement- if that's even what you could describe the emotion on his face as. Taking a deep breath, I answer as civilly as possible. 

"I'm trying to do something different here, seeing as you couldn't do it fifty times later..."

His self-satisfied grin falls to a frown. 

"What? Do you think you'll magically get us a fire by snapping your fingers? It's not gonna work."

I ignored them and tried re-angling the lenses. A small orb of light reflected onto a log. My eyebrows narrowed, concentrating hard. Smoke rose from the pile of sticks, disintegrating into thin air. Ralph appeared at my side, blowing lightly to ignite the fire. An orange flame flapped up before growing to a decent size. I smiled to myself at the achievement.

"Fire!!" Tony jumps up and cheers. Kids whoop and holler, skipping and dancing around the blaze. I look over to Jack who is now wearing a dumbfounded expression. We make eye contact.

"Guess I didn't need to snap," I shrugged simply.

With a scowl, the three boys storm away to grumble about God knows what. I just sit, mesmerized. The flames dance around enchantingly. Sitting there in a dazed trance, I allow my mind to drift from reality once again.

Ralph grabbed me by the shoulders, giving me an intended startle. I looked behind myself. We smiled at each other, staying this way till he abruptly pulls me up off the ground.

He took my hand in his, twirling me around, our laughter mixing together. Another hard gust of wind blew over the mountain. And while brushing the wispies of hair out of my face, I gasped -- the fire's swiftly spreading through the tall, straw-like grass.

"Shit, guys, the fire!" I point. Piggy remains stationary, watching from a distance at all the chaos. I see him shake his head in shame as spews of flames crackle and roar. A mirroring image of the blaze reflected in his glasses as he sits back and observes.

We quickly begin stomping the blaze out. Once vibrant green clumps of foliage charred to a blackened crisp. The beige grass that had been standing tall, is cooked to being shriveled up -- looking like crooked sticks.

"Put it out! put it out!"

"Jesus, it's spreading!"

"Shit!"

"Ow! Goddamn!"

"It burned me!"

"Just keep stomping, dork!"

"Your jackets! Use your jackets!"

In its merciless tirade, the fire spreads like a disease to engulf the low hanging tree.

I continue to stomp on the flames that lick my ankles. Some little ones throw down their jackets to smother the conflagration.

After a few more stomps, the fire is finally out. The poor tree now ruined -- once so pretty. Now it's not any less dull than the average street lamp. And there we go! Already making a mark on a once untouched island. Whatever humans touch gets destroyed. Painfully poetic in a way. So much for control.

"You've got your small fire, alright," says Piggy shakily. I sigh in relief. At least there isn't any grass left for fire to spread onto again.

"Let's just head back now," Ralph states, still a bit shaken. His eyes are wide and he stands frozen in the same place. Everyone of us nods in silence. Neat how a scare can leave you so speechless. No one moves till Jack does. We all file behind him.

Waving my good wishes for Sam n' Eric as they stay on the first fire watch duty, my line of vision drifts to Jack, who is already looking at me and about to say something.

"Are you proud of yourself?"

"For figuring how to light a fire?" I say flatly. "Sure. I'm even more glad that I'm not the one who made the decision to not put rocks around the fire. Aren't you guys supposed to be in military school?"

"Congratulations, Sawyer," he snaps with a hint of defense, disregarding the last statement. "I'll get to working on that precious medal for you."

"Now what?" I try to provoke him this time. "I told you I was right, and you tried to make me seem stupid in front of your friends."

"Oh, shut up." He argues heatedly. 

"Don't tell me to shut up."

"Or what?" said Jack hastily, facing towards me. Getting a wave of daring courage, I lifted my chin into the air.

"Are you gonna whine about how your ex said it once? That excuse is the most laughable thing."

It felt like a knife stabbed into the gut. Looking at him scathingly, I snap.

"Jack Merridew, go to hell, you stupid shit." I hear a few boys snickering.

"Oh, I thought the woman was saying something about being stupid. At least I didn't almost burn down an entire mountain."

I was already beginning to feel that irrational anger boiling in my gut that Jack seems to effortlessly trigger. Cracking sounds breach the air as he slices away plants with his knife. Humanity's mark #2.

"What is your fucking damage?" I speed my way up to him, feebly tripping over vines in the process. Annoyingly, Jack makes it an effortless deal to stay at least five inches ahead of me. The group of boys flash a look of regard, wincing at the childish banter.

"It's not like you thought to keep the fire off the grass!" I try to grab his shoulder to reason with him, but he jerks away.

"If you're bipolar you can just say that instead of hoping this 'little demonstration' clears the air."

As he whips around, I get startled by how closely he approaches, our chests practically touching. I have to look up to maintain eye contact, his steady breathing grazes my face.

"What's the matter, Sawyer? Mad that complaining over your ex had stopped getting you places? You women will scream anything to get your way."

Where did that come from? I breathe heavily, but my line of vision falters to his chest, staring through him to collect my thoughts. It hits me -- that's the only thing he can use against me. It's all he knows. I remember; I saw it in his reaction back when I brought it up. A brief mention.

"If you're still that hung up on your ex, you should have never broken up with him." Seeing my reaction, Jack puts on a well-pleased half-smile like he accomplished something great.

"That's- that's literally nothing-"

"Save your tears for the pillow -- oh wait!" He gasped, mocking.

"That is if you ever get back to your pillows at home." Making a pouty face, he did the annual tap on my cheek before walking away.

"So that's it? That's all you can say?"

He hesitates for a few moments, letting out a scoff.

"You females really are confusing. Last time I tried to say something, you with your stuck up self had to ruin it all." He scowls. "Why do you hide yourself?"

"Listen." I quickly make a point to assert myself without fucking up. "I don't see what was so wrong about me choosing to not disclose everything to you -- to a person I don't even know." My hands wave in his direction for emphasis.

"I'm not sorry when I say I feel that I have a right to keep things to myself." My heart races at his foreign facial expression. It's hard to decode what he'd been thinking.

"Sure thing, Sawyer. Be sure to include that in your collage essay and hope University treats it well."

I grip my hair and breathe out heavily.

"You-- you dropping random flirts and little insults won't make me go weak-kneed and spill my personal experiences. Grow the fuck up. If me saying a sentence will make you treat me like this -- I think you should work that out."

I pause to read his emotion. Still, it's questionable, and it irritates me further, fueling the seething energy.

"You and your other fuck-buddy choir boys are such children," I add coldly and begin to stroll away. Jack takes obvious offense to the last sentence, but I can't find where I give shit about that.

"You think you're so fucking smart, don't you?" He tests me. "You over reacting proves my point." 

Frustration boils in my chest. I whip back around sharply.

"How is me telling the truth over reacting? You just don't know how to take it because nobody's held you accountable for anything before, and no one has ever humbled you till now." I walk back up to him.

"Guess what, Merridew. I'm gonna knock you down a few pegs so you can let go of your imaginary throne complex." The last few words spat out with a feeling of accomplishment and aggravation.

We both pause. I pant heavily to regain the breath I wasted on trying to knock sense into him. Finally, he responds curtly, rendering me speechless.

"Kay." His blue eyes flash widely with the single word. In that moment the frustration renews and I can feel a bunch of fresh arguments boiling up in my throat. Before they can even be uttered he speaks again.

"Sorry that you took my words so harshly." His voice is smooth with a flow to it. You could tell by that alone that he was a choir kid. He hesitates before continuing.

"Wha- what?" I sputter out, balling my fists.

"I see that I clearly..." He trails off slightly. "...hit a nerve.

"You hit like- seven, Merridew!" Now I'm the one scraping to find that anger in him.

"Did I now?" He arches a brow as his paper white teeth faintly clamp onto his lower lip. His calmness is too foreign to be normal.

"I see what you're doing." I look at him scathingly. "You want me to seem like the bad guy." 

Jack only answers in the stubborn silence, attacking me with a well pleased simper. Annoyed remarks burble up in my throat, and my eye twitches as I hold them all down. 

"Fuck you," I say angrily and start heading back down the small decline of the ground. The gravity makes my steps a bit heavier.

"Say it again," his voice floats up from behind me. I pause instantly and keep myself from whipping my head back around. I don't want that extra satisfaction to add to that swell of cockiness in his ego.

"Jack Merridew, I'm not as much of an idiot as you think I am." An inkling tells me what he's doing behind me.

Without turning around still, I say, "And God damn it, wipe that vile smirk off of your face."

I hear his tongue click in a tch sound, followed by a chuckle. "Why should I do that, Veronica Sawyer?" he asks innocently.

I wince and mutter unintelligible curses. Taking a deep inhale through my nose, I turn back around to face him. "You don't get to call me by my first and last name."

"You did, though," he justified smartly, leaning back against a tree. "But okay. That's kinda a double standard. Don't ya agree, Vera?"

My face screws up in repulsion. "God! You're impossible!" I pause to think. "And stop using that nickname like we're friends. We are not friends."

"Awww," he places a hand on his chest. "I thought we'd be best gal pals by now." He openly grins at my misfortune.

I groan, trudging up to a tree and banging my head against it once. Jack laughs, and I feel his hands take my shoulders to pull me away. It startled me to notice how fast he appeared next to me.

Shaking him off, I start my march down the path decided by Ralph. Glued at my side, he briskly starts walking with me, no matter how much I change my speed.

"I don't see the big deal!" He exclaims, brushing shoulders with me. "Why do you have to act like an uptight bitch?"

My face scrunches into an ugly scowl. "Because," I say simply. "Teenage boys are the worst."

I look at him for a reaction, and his chin drops slightly.

"You act like teenage girls aren't hormone demons either, darling."

I force a loud chuckle. "What are you, twelve? Get away from me." My feet carry myself a bit quicker. Catching on, Jack matches my pace.

"Why should I? Looks like you're getting all the satisfaction you need out of this." His hand brushes his blonde hair back out of his face.

"You're the one getting satisfaction!" I retort. "You're not some delight to be around."

"No more are you!" He laughs. "Keep proving my point, and you'll be the one gushing at my feet soon enough about how foolish you have been acting."

I stop by a tree to catch my breath.

"Keep dreaming." My back presses against the rough bark. The next thing I know, Jack appears, leaning on his side against the same tree. He gives me that lofty expression with less than an inch of air between us. A gap of sunlight shone down on his golden hair like a halo to crown his chiseled features. Frowning, I blink and stare at him.

"Why do you argue with everything I say?" He whispers, blue eyes flashing with a knowing glint, as if he's privy to my unspoken secrets which are far beyond any realm of moral comprehension. Uncomfortable, I shift away from him. Almost immediately, Jack emits a prolonged groan of annoyance.

"God, just have your little celebration, and call yourself smart. Whoop-dee-doo, is it over yet?" He jogs up to me and grabs my wrist to turn me back around. I look at him in shock as his eyes scan over my frame. Yanking away, my arms cross over my chest.

"I'm tired of this," he proclaims. "Let's call a truce." 

Next thing I know, his hand is held out in front of me. I look at it in disgust, and eye him in suspicion. His face falters.

"What?"

Still staring at him hard, my head turns slightly. "Since when were you into calling truces?"

His arm limply falls by his side. "Always," Jack answers evenly. "I'm an easy person to get along with. You'll see."

"On what terms?" I press on my skepticism. His shoulders bob, and he saunters over closer to me.

"No terms," he promises. I look at him as his tongue grazes his lower lip smugly. I catch that glint in his eyes. Whether it's a glint of the sun or hidden intentions, I don't care. There's always something up their sleeve when they look at you like that.

"I don't trust you as far I as I could throw you!" I put my foot down. The words are harsh against the backs of my teeth.

I look at his muscular build compared to my weak frame, and sucked my tongue to the roof of my mouth in faint acceptance.

"... Which clearly wouldn't be far, so... no truce."

"Well, I could throw you pretty far if I wanted to, so I think I'm still dead set on calling a truce." Jack's face is so helplessly coy, it makes my forehead tense in repulsion. A retort fizzes on my tongue in anticipation.

"So would you rather call a truce, or keep showing me a good time?" He grins and shrugs. "Your choice."

His hand appears in front of me again. I bit my tongue to obviously suppress a snicker.

"You're joking, right?" The taunt melts in my mouth as I note the seriousness in his rain cloud eyes. He is good at putting up those pseudo-genuine acts. My lip twitches as I study him intently to find the mockery, but I roll my eyes in surrender.

"You're gross." I say. "But fine. Yeah, fine, I'll play this with you."

I cave and shake on it. He grins in satisfaction, showing a curt nod.

"I knew you would." He says lowly. My heart flutters up in some anxiousness and I repress the thoughts coming to mind. His hand grips mine longer than necessary. Pursing my lips, I nod slowly and slide myself away. His eyes are oddly lively, like he gets a rise out of everything I do.

"Well, c'mon then!" He turns me around, pushing a hand on the small of my back and urges us both onward. I slow down as he passes by, looking at him as he heads down the mountain. Finally, I speed back up and keep a few feet behind him.

"I hope you know that your reactions never help your case," he glances over his shoulder at me. For once, I conceal my emotion, catching onto his act.

"It's a perfectly logical and valid reaction to have, though." I answer calmly. He shakes his head and continues.

"You know, Sawyer... I can read you like a magazine. You're a bunch of open pages and don't even realize it."

My jaw tightens as I suppress a glower to clash against his sly expression.

"I mean your emotions, Veronica. They're constantly on display. Literally anybody could be able to read it without being psychic."

I open my mouth to retort, but close it again.

"Like right now for instance-" he starts, intriguing me. "You think you can just act unbothered after putting on quite a show. You think you're smart right now."

I blink rapidly, sensing the sly smile in his voice without seeing his face.

"Don't you get it? You can't just switch up after all that drama you put up. It's not how that works."

The nerve of him! Just because I'm not a total asshole who can succeed in the same infuriating mind games as him, it doesn't make me any less superior!

"I will admit it," He turns around and stops so I can catch up. "It's amusing to see you try." His words slide off his tongue like a thick syrup, too sweet for taste.

"Funny that you think I'm even trying," I conclude, keeping my cool.

He hums, nodding his head in an unconvinced manner. For a split moment, he glances to his side, at me, and lifted his cheek in a smile before breaking his gaze to stare ahead. I don't know why I'm even still walking with him.

We walk in silence with him fully at ease, and myself in discomfort. I catch myself looking over to him, waiting in anticipation for him to drop some smart remark. This time, I stare too long and my thoughts come true.

"Like what you see, Vera?" My body goes rigid in embarrassment. He snickers, too self absorbed for any girls liking.

"I wouldn't say that I like it..."

He shrugs. "Yeah, yeah. Spit it out -- what do you want to tell me?" 

My head shakes vigorously.

"No-- I- nothing. What?"

He nods as if he had gotten confirmation for something he already knew.

"See? You're not so high and mighty without an audience." Jack lolls his head to the side lazily with such a self-important presence, looking down at me.

"What are you... What're you talking about?" I quiz him, not catching the punch line.

"When you got all smart on the plane." He answers very intrepidly. "Where's that Veronica? I'd like to see her in action."

My lips press together, unable to answer. Instead, I veer the subject.

"We were talking... and then- then the explosion, and- the plane crashed." I stammer through my thoughts. My head swivels to him, blinking in disbelief as I limply point at him. He furrows his brows in confusion.

"And then... you pulled me up." Those words are said only in realization for myself. Jack nods, almost arrogantly. 

"Yeah, a 'thank you' would be nice," he spat.

"Why would you help me if you didn't know me?" I ignore his last sentence. Arching a brow, his eyes dart to the side.

"Why? Should I have let you die?" He mockingly inquires. I pause and shrug. 

"You were barely even conscious." 

"I understand," I cut in. "I'm just confused as to why you-" my sentence gets sliced in half. 

"You can't let a sleeping man burn in a fire, just like one can't let an unconscious girl drown in the ocean."

With nothing left to say, he brushes past me. It hits me then. Jack Merridew saved my life. What does that mean for me now? Do I owe him something? Is there a debt? I mean -- he saved me. And Ralph helped too. Standing aloof, I snap out of my thoughts and jog up to Jack who walked slowly, waiting for me to catch up.

"Thanks," I mutter like it pains me. I can see him curve his lips in amusement. 

"If you wanna repay me by saving my life next time..." He starts in a swaggering tone.

I glare at him, knowing he'll somehow ruin this. 

"- Feel free to use CPR." 

Yep, I was right. When I don't answer, he continues his blabbering.

"As in, when you put your mouth on mine and resurrect me back to-"

"I got the memo!" I snap, cutting him off. "God!" He snickers again into his fist.

"Anyway-" he slurs mischievously, smoothly coiling an arm around my shoulders, almost jokingly I hoped.

"Wanna play twenty questions?"

"Don't make it weird," I warn, subtly trying to elbow him off of me. 

"No promises," he says pleasantly.

"Fine then," I roll my eyes and forcefully shove him off. He hardly takes a stumble, making me all the more annoyed. "But you start."

"Kay," he agrees. "What movies do you like?" 

I glare at him, daring that his questions wouldn't escalate.

"Scary ones are cool. I mean it's always the same trope, but I like them well enough." I let my blazer drop to my elbows, keeping them bent so it won't slide off.

"Slashers?" Jack asks. I shake my head quickly, still very wary of his abrupt switch up. Where did this change of mind source from? What was the motivation?

"Nah. Those are dumb. I like Poltergeist a lot. Though, The Shining isn't bad."

"Slashers are the classics!" Jack reasons, throwing his hands up. I shrug again, keeping my gaze on the ground, and waiting for him to suddenly switch up from this random perky attitude. 

"Yeah, but only the first ones are good. The rest are always bad."

"Fair point." He nods. I nudge his him hard in the side and say, "Your turn."

He sighs, sorting through his thoughts to pick a question. When he finally rests on one, he snaps his fingers. 

"What's your favorite color?"

I glare at him and throw the obvious answer, already anticipating his response. "Blue."

"Go figure."

"What about you?" I shoot back. With a dry laugh, he looks at me and answers, "I don't have one."

I frown like it's the weirdest thing I'd ever heard. He shakes his head in confusion at my expression. I question him, "Who doesn't have a favorite color?"

"Me," he answers simply. My face screws up in doubt and my shoulders droop.

"Then just pick one you like!"

"Oh, my God," he groans impatiently with my drilling words. "Red," Jack blurts out to satisfy me.

"Kay. Good color," I murmur and ignore his glare. With our drastically slow pace, the rest of the group is already long gone. That's good, though. I would hate to have them here for the argument.

"My turn," Jack says flatly. "Have you had your first kiss yet?"

I roll my eyes and don't answer, staring at him knowingly. 

"C'mon!" He exclaims. His eyes narrow at me as we walk.

"That's not even weird to ask. So, have you had a first kiss, or are you like I thought; A prude?" The sense of superiority sits heavily on his lips.

I scrunch my nose up at his wording. "Yes, I have, Jack. Gosh."

I don't have to be a genius to hear his answer, and he knows that. Jack steps on my heel when I don't say another question, which earns him a hard glare.

"God damn it, stop!" I pause to stamp my foot. He laughs and jogs ahead to avoid my slap on his arm. Rubbing my temples, I think for a moment.

"What's the craziest thing you've ever done?" I blurt. He grins widely and folds his hands behind his head, somehow arrogantly as he walks backwards to face me.

"I've done a lot," he states. "But the craziest thing would have to be the time I crashed my dad's car into our garage and nearly set the place on fire."

I give him a questioning look, tilting my head slightly. Huffing a breath, he drops his hands to give me context.

"I was pulling into my driveway, and I meant to step on the brakes but I stepped really hard on the gas instead."

I drop my jaw and laugh, prompting him too also. Jack nods, slowing down some. "Yeah, he wasn't too pleased. I also stole my neighbors car and drove it on the highway."

I blink wordlessly. "You're a liar."

"Am not."

"Yes, you are," I persist. He shakes his head.

"Nah, it's true. I was gonna drive to North Carolina to meet up with my cousin, but my neighbor reported a missing car so the police caught up to me."

"Are you sure you didn't steal a little kids plastic car that runs on juice?" I joke. He frowns rather than taking my words with a grain of salt.

"I'm telling you, Sawyer. I'm telling you."

"Right..." I muse slyly, still grinning. "You're full of shit. Anyway, your turn to ask a question."

He holds up a hand, making me slow my role. "Wait, wait. You haven't told me your craziest event yet."

My face flinched as he cut me off. I sling my blazer over my shoulder just then, and my white shirt clung to my back in the tropical heat.

"You don't need to know," I chirp, maintaining the unbothered front I put up. Doubt flashes across his face.

"How do you know?" Jack presses, coming up closer to me. He takes my arm to stop us both. It didn't startle me, only catching me off guard.

"Cuz..." I say slowly. "Nothing interesting happens in my life."

He flashes his blue eyes at me, almost looking past me. "Are you really that boring?"

"Nope," I answer quickly. "My turn to ask another question-"

He cuts me off again, pressing the side of his finger to my lips. I furrow my eyebrows, more confused than anything.

"That didn't count as a question, Sawyer."

I shake him off. "Did so. What're you doing?" I back up a little bit, weirded out by the closeness.

"What do you mean by 'what am I doing'?" He stares at me with the ghost of an egotistical leer on his lips. "Why are you hiding something?"

"I'm not," I insist, not liking his playfulness. It's the way he could easily switch up at any moment. Sighing, I promptly hold my chin up in the air.

"Fine, since you wanna know so bad..."

He gives a quizzical look, daring me to say it. My lips press together.

"I fed a girl liquid drain cleaner."

"That shit is straight bleach," he exclaims, almost in disbelief. Backing up a step, I knowingly nod again.

"Mhm. Now's my question-"

"Wait!" He interrupts. "I wanna know the story behind that. I gave you my story after all."

"It's too long to explain."

"I've got time," he says while crossing his arms. I buzz my lips, almost stalling.

"It's my turn to ask a question," I ignore again quietly. I feel my back press against a tree at my next step backwards, and Jack takes the opportunity to block me there, resting his hands above my head.

"What're you doing?" I frown, trying to take this in.

He smiles calmly, making my heart drone in panic. "It's my turn to hear it."

My face contorts into an annoyed scowl. I press my hand against his chest to push him back, but it hardly makes a difference.

"I don't have to tell you anything, fuck you."

"Say it again," he lowered his head, forcing me to submit and look up at him. My confusion only greatens as icy breath grazes my skin gently, making me shiver. I catch on to his little game.

"I said... Fuck. You."

"Yeah?" He chuckles and swipes a single strand of my hair off my cheek. I straighten up quickly and push him forcefully to make his hands fall, but it creates no distance.

"What's your problem?" He yells, completely oblivious to my irritation. I stomp away from him to set a point, and hear him run up behind me. Jack's hand wraps itself around my wrist.

"Unhand me!" I snarl through gritted teeth and wrench myself away.

"Why do you have to make it difficult to wanna be around you?" I throw my hands up as he swiftly veers around to close in at my side.

"You seemed into it."

I scoff at the pathetic idea. "If that's how it seemed, then I'm really concerned about your past relationships, Jack."

I yank my blazer that hung from my shoulders has haughtily as possibly, and aggressively put it back on. Jack goes to grab my shoulder.

Inhaling hard, I abruptly halt and whip around to face him.

"Why can't you leave me the fuck alone, you stupid ass fucking- woah!" I shriek as the ground gives away under me after I tried stomping my foot. It felt like my stomach had flipped upside down into my throat.

Here it is. My time has come.

My eyes, squeezed close, strain to open back up again hesitantly. Darkness meets my confused vision.

"Shit!" I hear Jack shout. I blink for a moment and realize that I'm in a ditch of some sort, but the opening at the top is no more than a foot above me.

My eyes scan up the wall of roots and dirt to Jack peering over with a surprised expression.

"Are you okay?" He frantically calls down to me. I pause to review myself, my hands rubbing down the front of my blazer and sleeves. The only thing I felt was a burning ache in my ankle. Settling on that conclusion, I look back up at him.

"Uh- yeah. I'm okay." I give a small thumbs up, though he probably couldn't see it. "I mean, my ankle kinda hurts, but nothing else."

"So you're not bleeding? You're okay?" Jack presses for extra confirmation. Maybe he isn't so bad after all. I smile to myself and call back up.

"Yes, I'm okay."

"Good," he answers. "Now I won't feel bad about doing this."

Not a moment goes by before he explodes into that charismatic laughter, doubling over and gripping his stomach. My expression progressively falls into an annoyed one as I glare up at him.

"Oh, shit!" He howls, clapping his hands once. "I was not expecting that!" Jack manages to say through the laughs. Blood rushes up to my face.

I cross my arms and tap my foot, patiently waiting for his rush to subside. When it does, he squats down at the edge, resting his elbows on his knees before arrogantly looking down at me.

"You really know how to show urgency," I mutter sarcastically, glaring up at him. Snickering again, he reaches down a hand to pull me out. I stare at the gesture before reluctantly accepting it.

"One, two, three!" He counts before heaving me up. I grab the edge with my other hand to climb out.

"Ugh, what the hell?" I grunt, brushing the grass and twigs off my clothes. Jack even brushes my shoulders off. Whether it's out of the kindness of his heart or to annoy me, I don't care. Now on my feet, I stare at the ground, avoiding his gaze in embarrassment. I guess there was an open pocket in the ground that had gotten covered by fallen branches and foliage strong enough to hold a person as long as they didn't go stomping around like a mad man. 

"Yeah, a few of the guys dug those out on the exploration earlier," he rambles dryly. "They were only ditches at first, so that's how they made 'em so deep so soon. Should only be one or two more around here somewhere. Ralph told us to not do any more for this exact reason. Thought it might help us catch pigs or some other animals-"

Jack finally catches my silence.

"Don't worry, Vera." He pats my arm with smugness laced in his voice. I look at him begrudgingly. "I won't tell anyone about how you royally ate shit just now."

"Stop calling me that," I snap, ignoring his other words. He raises his hands in mock defense.

"You should be thanking me," he states calmly. I glance at him and start walking, only to feel a sharpness shoot through my foot like an electric zip. I make a sound of pain and stop. 

"What is it?" I hear his bored question. 

"I think I twisted my ankle or something- I dunno." 

"Let me see."

I lean my weight against a nearby tree as Jack kneels in front of me. Carefully, his hands reach for my leg, fingertips grazing my inner thigh as he slides my knee-high sock down to evaluate my ankle. As the fabric is slid away, bunched up in a clump right above my shoe, I notice a slight streak of blood. I assume my skin must've caught against a jutted out twig when I fell.

"Is this the part where you start tearing off pieces of your shirt to bind my wounds?" I wince, trekking through the humorless field of my kidding words, and drop my head against the tree. Jack's mouth quirks up into a smug half-smile. 

"If you wanted me to rip my clothes off, you should've just asked," he returns back pleasantly. My eyes look up to the sky in annoyance, then back down again. 

"It's barely even a scratch," he reports in a casual tune. "You're fine. Rub some dirt on it." 

"It's not that. It's my ankle, Jack," I explain, growing more critical. "I think it's like- sprained, or something." 

Letting out a long groan of annoyance, he picks my foot up, gripping the bottom of my shoe. 

"How's this?" He rotates my ankle in a few directions. Not aggressively, and awaits my response. 

"It's fine," I tell him. "It's when I put pressure on it by standing."

"That means you just rolled your ankle then," he deduces in a flat voice. "It's gonna maybe bruise. Nothing else."

He eases my foot back down and pulls the hem of my sock back up to my knee. 

"You're good?" He reaches out like he's prepared to steady me if needed, but I snap away from his touch. I've already received too much manhandling from that last ordeal alone.

"Fine," I insist, and he nods in approval. I take a few steps, and as my weight leans into my foot, another shock of aching throb fires up from the ground. Hissing in pain, I stop and reach in the direction of my injured ankle.

Concern flashes over Jack's face for a split moment at the outburst before regaining that snobbish air like it never vanished.

"Need help there?" He crosses his arms and loftily scans me up and down as I struggle to move without limp-hopping.

"No!" I erupt rudely. His face doesn't flinch, but the doubt remains present as ever. I take another moment to try rolling the pain away to no avail. It's only now that I look at him in defeat.

Realizing my silent plea, he moves to wrap an arm around my waist, and mine around his shoulders. We walked slowly at first, but sped up as I adapted to the bruised ankle.

"See?" He chirps through the silence. "If you hadn't acted like a bitch, you would have seen where you were going, but here we are!"

I bite down my anger again and force myself to keep my cool. "Whatever."

I hear him huff in annoyance, and he doesn't go at another attempt to hit a nerve.

Shoving aside some low hanging creepers and vines, I pop the question, "Are you even taking us back to the camp?"

His eyes twinkle as we pass through an open patch of the jungle where the sunlight pours in. Jack steps over a fallen log before answering. 

"That's the motive, Veronica," he says tiredly.

"Well- you can just stay away from me from now on as soon as we get there."

"Kay," he perks as he flicks away a leaf that had gotten tangled in my hair. I watch in surprise as the little leaf danced gracefully in the air all the way to the ground.

"That is... if ever find our way back..." He teases while flashing his eyes at me. I snap a warning look at him. "Do you even know where we're going?"

"We'll find out," he shrugs. All of a sudden he jumps away from me, holding out a hand.

"Shall we?" He croons with a promiscuous expression.

"Shall we what?" I scoff at him dumbly. The bright smile hardly falters. 

"What's it look like, Sawyer?"

Grabbing my hand, I get snapped around into a spin before abruptly getting dipped backwards. There's a moment of free fall.

"Merridew, you're gonna break my back, cut that out!"

I get yanked back up straight into a poised waltz position with him grinning at me, fully pleased. "Gladly. Minus the part where I'm supposed to cut that out."

"You're vile," I answer. Letting the regal position melt, he continues to take both of my hands, gracefully gliding through the greenery as I reluctantly accommodate the movement. I was more choppy trying to keep up with his swiftness, limp-hopping on my painless foot. He didn't seem to pick up on the cue of me clambering around in a struggle. Actually-- he probably did notice it, and was living up to his title of being an utter Jackass.

I'm starting to think he's stalling. Or maybe it's all a trick to stretch my line of patience thinner.

"I can't dance," I groan and half-heartedly attempt to pull away. He studies me for a moment.

"You're right." Jack nods. "You can't dance for shit. Didn't you say you used to do ballet?"

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, keeping myself composed as my lips form a line. 

"That's hard to believe for someone as uncoordinated as you." Jack dips me around again. A crack of pain lances through my ankle.

"Hey, don't worry!" He assures me without a trace of ingenuity. "Just sway around and I'll take the spotlight."

Catching me by surprise, his hands take my waist and he lifts me up in the air, my skirt flaring as he did a quick spin. A hard drop falls in my gut as I let out an embarrassing squeal. My hands reach down for his shoulders as he lowers me down with a thud, the roughness of my landing was emphasized by the lack of bend at my knees. My teeth painfully click together at the harsh landing, along with a puff of air that gets forced out of me promptly. Another zip of soreness hisses in my ankle to make me wince. 

Jack looks at me humorously for the reaction.

"You really are a girl. I lifted you three inches off the ground."

I brush my sleeves to retain my dignity. "It was more than three," I correct him. He flicked his blue eyes to the side. "You don't seriously feel like going to camp right now, do you?"

I look at him in question, prompting him to continue. "I mean- you were all mad that you couldn't explore the island. Why not go now?"

I purse my lips in thought, taking the idea into account. I can hardly spend two hours with Jack without going insane... Lord knows there's not one more either of us can take.

"I dunno. Maybe tomorrow-"

"Don't be such a prude!" Jack argues. "C'mon, I just wanna show you something."

I rolled my jaw. One thing I can say for sure, Jack isn't one to let up. Smacking my lips, I force a reluctant nod, to which he flashed a smile.

"Can I trust you to walk without snapping your neck?" A condescending stare shines a spotlight on me.

"Shut up before I snap your neck."

Jack's arm, without warning, shoots out in front of me like a railing, making me halt in place to keep from running into him. So uncalled for. I snap my head to him, a line up of reprimands marching on my tongue, but I'm instantly shushed before they can deliver. 

"Quiet," Jack hisses, not looking at me. His focus is centered on something else a couple yards away, off in the bush. Puzzled, I stare at him momentarily before following his gaze to see what has caught his interest. 

Nestled within the green foliage, a fleshy back is facing us, curled in a sleeping position. The steady rise and fall of its breath disturbs the surrounding tall grass faintly. I stare a second longer. A pig. It looks young. 

I feel Jack's arm shift at my side, and I can't help but mind it. I see him reaching to his waistband, his fingers curling around the hilt of his knife. My hand wraps around his arm on instinct, breaking his focus. 

"What??"

"What're you doing?" I whisper sharply, my eyes wide with semi-panic and confusion. An 'assuring' side-smile graces his lips as he shakes me off. 

"Just hush and wait." 

With that, Jack hunches over just slightly, skulking forward. I try to call him back by yell-whispering, not daring to actually raise my voice. Alas, the attempts go heedless. I can feel my pulse thumping in my ears as he approaches the sleeping piglet, knife fully unsheathed now. 

Right as he crouches over it, he freezes in his position. 

I raise a questionable brow, thrown off by his sudden paused stature. Wavering to the side from behind him, I try to get a feeble glance of his face. Jack just swallows, and readjusts his hard grip on the knife, flexing the fingers of his free hand. 

"Jack," I whisper again.

He licks his lips, almost like he's trying to get the courage. 

The knife raises again, but it isn't brought back down. It just stops, mid-air. I cross my arms and hold my elbows, biting my lip in anticipation. Surely he won't- 

His arm falls limply to his side as he straightens up. 

He can't do it. 

A loud crack braces the air as Jack takes a side step, landing on a thick, brittle tree branch. The pig is startled awake in an instant, and we watch its little body dash off into the distance, a squeal slowly fading off into silence. Okay, well that didn't go as I expected, thankfully.

A rainfall of silence collides against us. I stare at Jack's back, suddenly guarded as I try to get a read on him. He's just so rigid. It leaves nothing to the imagination. His head turns to the side, not fully looking back at me -- I don't think he wants to. 

Another beat of silence goes by before his low, grumbled voice hits my ears. 

"I had 'em." He speaks up. "I could've gotten it." 

"What're you doing?" I question seriously, folding my arms again. "Jack, we aren't equipped for this-" 

"- Next time," he interjects harshly, nodding mainly for himself. 

"I'll get 'em next time." And it sounds like a promise. I look at him warily as he fully turns to face me. 

"I was just..." his lips form a bitter line. "I let it off because it was small." 

I nod softly, letting myself accept that reason. 

"Um- okay." 

Jack refuses to allow another bout of silence to consume us as he over-dramatically huffs a loud sigh, buzzing his lips. I frown at him. Upon raising his head, he dresses his face with a famously charming smile, recovering seamlessly from his fallen mask. 

"That place I wanted to show you- shall we continue?" 

♕︎♕︎♕︎

"This?" I stare into a damp cave, unimpressed. Jack stands next to me proudly, almost marveling the discovery. I glance at him snobbishly.

"Nice, huh?" He nudges my arm. My eyes scan back over it. "Looks like a depression hole."

I think of those rock caves with waxy points and running water deep underground, crystallization peekabooing through. Then, you go to those little gift shops to purchase a bag of dyed quartz. Of course, I didn't expect any cave like that on the way over here. Though, that's what Jack hyped it up to be.

"Okay, it's hot." I huff. "Can we go to the beach now?"

Jack shakes his head and tugs my arm to lead me in. "Nah, it's cooler in the cave."

Walking in, we have to stay sort of hunched as to not knock ourselves out. I have to admit, its immediately seven degrees cooler.

"I like it." He states prominently, sitting down. I dart my head around, digging for a redeeming quality in the grey stone.

"I don't see what's so amazing about it," I say truthfully. "It's just a hole in the side of the hill."

Jack, with a neutral expression stands up.

"Oh, Vera. What joy of joys you are..." He clasps his hands together sarcastically. "Always sucking the fun out of everything."

My body stiffens as he slaps a hand on my shoulder. I scowl at him and start to scope my way out.

The rest of the day, Jack stayed by my side like a gnat, trying to sound nice. I'm always quick to hear his quirks of condescension laced in his words. I remained resentful after the mental ringer he had put me through. Occasionally, Jack would communicate that Roger or Luke must join in. They scope by me like I'm a landmark worth gawking over. I can hardly get a few yards away without them catching up.

It's always "prude this-" or "prude that." Ralph would hear and then intervene, but very absently, giving them his exhausted cadet Colonel warnings. Those commands don't stick.

It's late in the evening, and night time is preparing to take the stage.

"Why so tense?" Luke asks me innocently. Now being late in the evening, I find myself complaining in my head, and my face scrunches up into a cringe as I grumble curses. They find those amusing. Jack slides at my other side, sitting on the fallen palm tree that lay on the beach close to shore. Roger is leaned against a tree some yards away with Rapper, silently conversing.

"If she loosened up a bit she might even have a good time, Luke." Jack mocks like my presence was nonexistent, swinging his legs to mimic me. Frothy waves creep up the shore, barley missing my dangling feet as the tree kept me just out of reach.

My eyes stay staring at the ocean after having gained a level up achievement -- practically deaf to whatever the two doorknobs say. My brain would detect the voices and deflect them from my responding nerves.

Not familiar to being disregarded, Jack finally sends an elbow into my side, hard enough to snap me back to conversation.

"Could you stop pestering me!" I exclaim shrilly. The two look across me at each other, grinning and nodding like they have some telepathy. My eyes dart at them both in apprehension, growing annoyed with the constant back and forth.

"You're both a pair high school-has-beens just waiting to happen, or have you heard that one too?" I said dismissively. Jack grins.

"So I have," he glances back at Luke who leers at me intensely. I try my best to block that out.

"Must you have a response for everything?" He queries boyishly.

"Grow up," I flash my eyes. Luke opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by the conch blaring through the air. Saved by the bell, I suppose. It doesn't even take me a full second to jump up and jog over to the small fire set up on the beach. The sun already lost its strength, dipping into the ocean for bed.

On this particular night, most boys haven't come chasing after the call for a meeting, too caught up in antics. Piggy sits by the fire as Ralph stands. Rapper and Roger soon saunter over as we wait impatiently for the crowd to swell. Jack looks around and grins smugly at Ralph.

"Ironic, isn't it?" The blonde egged. "The one time your little conch call won't get them all gathered around is the same night you wanted some super-duper fun team bonding." Roger and Jack chorus in nasty snickers. I cross my arms over my chest and look to an unbothered Ralph. He kept scanning for the return of the boys.

"Ehhh, actually-" Piggy daringly interjects with a smartass finger held up. I sigh in preparation for a Mr. Know-it-all explanation. Jack snaps his head in the direction of the boy grimly. Piggy sinks back a bit, but clears his throat to continue.

"That's an honest misinterpretation of the term irony-"

Even Ralph's face falls, and he rubs his hands over his face. Piggy gulps as Jack lulls his head to the side with an intimidating air, yet he continues to dig a hole for himself.

"It's purely coincidental that they are currently out scouting for fruits on the same night Ralph wanted us all together, making them not show up."

My eyes sweep over to Jack, Luke, and Roger who are staring daggers at the rambling boy.

"Coincidences and situational irony aren't the same things."

Jack finally releases an exasperated huff before laughing at how foolish Piggy sounds speaking to him. I get second hand embarrassment to see how Piggy keeps spewing his knowledge without realizing the three are making fun of him right in his face.

"Throwing that term around is very misleading and untrue. Real irony would be like; seeing a cat chase a dog, rather than a dog chasing a cat."

Blocking the boy out now, Jack starts walking around in a funny demeanor, and makes dorkish facial expressions to mimic the nerdish boy, mouthing the lecture he was giving in an exaggerated manner. I groan and rub my temples at the overload of noise. Piggy on the other hand remains somehow oblivious to the mockery as Luke titters away.

The grief I receive from Jack and Luke now coupled with Piggy's rant; it stacked up like straps of bombs in my chest. 

"If you really wanted it to be ironic, then it-"

"-Shut up!" I finally explode. Piggy falls silent and the two boys bust into howls of laughter at my unusually snooty outburst. Realizing my error, I retreat back into my shell and avoid looking at Piggy in mild embarrassment for letting my nerves get the best of me.

"I'm sorry," I say quickly. He doesn't answer this time, and I inwardly curse myself for being so crass like Jack. 

"Well..." Ralph mumbles to himself, trying to blow that conversation off. Jack crosses his arms, happy to see Ralph's annoyance. Normally, the boys would have answered to the conch.

"Some of you guys stay here. I need a person or two to help me round them all up."

"Me and Vera will stay!" Jack jumped in. I shot him a daring look but Ralph quickly agrees before I can protest, rushing off with Roger trailing behind.

"Look at him go," Jack sighs, shaking his head. "Trying to pull together his little group of children. Sad."

I look at him sidelong and plop down on the sand with a huff. Jack of course picks up on the action only moments later. 

"Wanna know something?" He whispers to me. I raise a brow in question. 

"Earlier today, I convinced them all to not respond to Ralph's night call so we could mess with him." He begins snickering away like it's the funniest thing. Unimpressed, I say nothing, and his laughter soon dies down. 

"I mean," he clears his throat. "It's a one-time thing, but I needed to get it in there at least once, y'know?" 

"Uh-huh." 

Honestly, how stupid. A breeze grazes the beach like a spider web, making me shiver and hug the blazer tighter around myself. Jack notices and doesn't address it for the first few moments. When it happens again, he sighs reluctantly and starts shrugging off his uniform coat. 

"Need this?" He holds it out to me. I stare at it but ultimately shake my head, not saying a word. Jack only shoves it closer to me. Piggy bursts into a spontaneous coughing fit out of nowhere. Jack and I both pause to watch him impatiently. When the wheezes subside, Piggy smiles at us sheepishly before jumping up and darting away. I look back at Jack.

"Don't need it," I tell him flatly. He blinks at me a few times through heavy eyes before putting it back on. We both cough as the thick cloud of smoke suffocated us before diverting its direction.

"Why are you acting like you can't take anything from me?" Jack asks. It's odd how he has the audacity to be confused over it. My eyes widen at him.

"What on Earth are you on about now?"

"You don't have to be such a prude about every little thing just because it's me." He scoots closer, but not too close. I shove a strand of hair behind my ear to see him better.

"Actually, I can." I correct him. "I have every right to, and I owe you nothing."

He throws his hands up in the air in partial surrender. "Fine. You don't owe me the gratification for offering a coat, but you do owe me something."

My head tilts to the side, unsure of what he meant. His cheek lifts as he answers, "A story."

I already have the understanding of what he was referring to.

"Why do you want to know so bad?" I ask honestly. He repressed a grin before laying back on the sand. I have to crane my head back some to see his face after switching positions.

"Why does it matter why I wanna hear it?" He says seriously. "Why do you not wanna tell me?"

"Because it's embarrassing!" I retort, making Jack burst into that noisy chuckling.

"Really? Cause it's embarrassing?" He snickered into his fist. "C'mon, Vera. Lemme hear it."

My head was sucked into my hands, palms to forehead as I let out a prolonged groan. 

"God, fuck me gently with a chainsaw..." Biting the inside of my cheek, a short lived breath of air huffed out of my lungs before I let my spine go slack, and rested my elbows on my knees.

"Before I graduated high school, I was in this really well known clique."

"You mean to tell me that the one and only Veronica Sawyer was one of the popular bitches?" He grins at me. I purse my lips to myself in thought, avoiding his leering smiles.

"Is that so hard to believe?" I snapped, not looking at him. "But, yeah. I don't really like my friends."

Jack leans back down, tsk-tsking me. "I wouldn't have assumed so."

I hug myself tighter as another gust of wind blows over.

"This girl -- Heather. She was my best friend, but we also hated each other. It never bothered her that the whole school thought she was a piranha. As Heather said, everyone wants her as a friend or a fuck."

Jack laughs to himself, wiping his nose with his thumb. I turn a little bit to where my knees face his direction.

"She's one of those Queen Bee whores that thinks they're the shit, huh?" He guesses knowingly, looking into the flames.

"That's an understatement. She had to start shit, telling people that I became some sticky apple after I became her friend, and that her quote unquote, 'kindness' blew up my ego. Apparently, she's the only one allowed to sleep around with people. I didn't even do that, though which makes this all ironic. Everyone finds out that she slept with such and such, but no one blinks an eye. Someone says I did, and it's the next big shocking thing, and I'm a skank all of a sudden..."

I swallow, now having a cotton mouth after the portion of a rant. Furtively glancing over at him, I catch that Jack's still looking ahead at the fire, seemingly not paying attention. When this idea hits me, it's immediately debunked.

"Keep going," he mutters flatly. I blink in surprise and snap my head away in embarrassment.

"Uhm- so, yeah. I guess I lost a lot of true friends wasting my time with the group. But she and I went to this Remington party, a bunch of college people. And I remember that we had a lot to drink, so the night is fuzzy but I can still recount it for the most part."

A gold ember burns my legs. Hissing in pain, I slap it away and check for any marks. None. I take it as a warning to move back a few inches. Tucking my knees to my chest, I continue.

"There was a guy there. I don't remember his name. I guess he liked the idea of younger girls drinking with him."

Jack lifts his head slightly.

"He wanted to hookup, but I wasn't all for that, so he started grabbing me and stuff, but I poured my drink on him and left. I just felt sick and wanted to go home. I was over it all, you know? He told Heather that I was being a cooze, and she didn't appreciate me giving her a bad rep for having such prude friends. Rumors began to spread that I did this and that."

I look at Jack's face. He was already looking at me. Half of his face was illuminated in the orange-gold lighting, leaving the other half shadowed over.

"So it's funny to see you and Roger struggle to decide whether I'm a prude or a slut. No one ever gets their label on me straight. Not even my fake friends or dumb ass old school."

Silence follows, and Jack sucks in his cheeks awkwardly. Uncomfortable with the new vibe, I continue.

"I got an ear full from her. She was eating into me for being so foolish to not take advantage of that fact that she raised me up from nothing, as she said. Like i'd be no where with out her." My lip curls into a glower at the thought of her. The nerve of Heather fucking Chandler.

"She started shoving me around, only churning what I was feeling for a while. I threw up all over that bitch's expensive shoes."

"You didn't," Jack refuses in disbelief. I shrug to infer that he could just consider the source, if that's what he wanted. I can see him bite his lower lip with a grin, and even show a nod of approval.

"So I left, but she followed me outside. I got the warning thirty hours ahead of time, that I was a nobody then, but by the next Monday, I'd be a next somebody." I start to giggle, finally realizing how ridiculous it sounded from the outside looking in.

"In her melodramatic ways, she told me I'd go down in history at Westerburg as a skank, a cheat, and a sick fuck-dead girl walking. She told me that everyone would know about how I led a guy on and puked all over her louboutin heels. She'd find some way to stretch the story, though."

Jack runs his fingers through his blonde hair. It's shiny. I take note of that. 

"Well, shit, Vera. Don't tell me you just let someone get away with that," he says seriously but somehow laughing at the same time.

"I didn't," I promise him. He arches a brow in question.

"The next morning, my boyfriend at the time and I broke into her house so we could see her puke her guts out, and drain the bitch's dignity like she did mine. It was his idea, but I was all for it at the moment. She skipped church every Sunday, and only occasionally would go to the weekend visit at her grandmother's place. She'd surely have a hangover, we knew."

With every deep inhale I took between sentences, the cold air burned my throat, drying out my mouth like drying leather.

"We would have to get our story straight for being in her house in the first place, so we decided we'd whip up sweet Heather Chandler a nice hangover remedy."

Jack leans back, catching the direction of my story. I can remember this part of the story clearly, probably because I wasn't drunk or high in this bit.

"So I thought to mix orange juice and milk, but that's too weak, you know? So we settled on bean and bacon canned soup with the milk and juice."

I pause for a moment, debating the next part.

"JD wanted to cough a phlegm glob into the the concoction and mix it in. She would never even notice."

Jack screwed up his face and visibly gagged. Even I shivered at the thought of that thick feeling in my throat.

"I- that's absolutely disgusting," Jack mumbled, grinding his knuckles into his temples.

"It didn't work. I wouldn't let him."

"Foul play, Sawyer."

I shrug innocently. "That's what we wanted... to see her spew red, white, n' blue. But, my boyfriend took it a bit too seriously."

His famous words were I'm a no rust build up man myself, and he sure wasn't.

"So he pulled out this like- liquid drain cleaner. He poured it into a mug and suggested that we brought it to her. I thought he was joking, cause' she could literally die. So we had the cups on the counter, and I grabbed one. We walked upstairs to wake her up."

I can recall her blonde hair, spilled across her pillow with the curls clinging onto that visibility. Her mascara had been streaked and messed up.

"We started baiting her, kinda. To get a reaction, I mean. And when we did, she snatched the cup and chugged it in a swift swig all at once. I hadn't realized it was the drain cleaner till it was too late."

Jack's jaw falls, not over exaggerated or over the top, but like my words had actually taken him aback. I watch him sputter a few times, trying to collect a sentence.

"I- you're serious? That's how it happened?"

My lips press together and I nod once, suddenly self cautious.

"What happened then?"

I push my hair over my shoulder. "She did exactly that. She spewed red, white, and blue."

Jack stares at me incredulously, now being the one to blink rapidly in place at the bizarre explanation.

"How the hell did she not die??"

I never answer him, and he doesn't ask that specific question again. However, his interest was still piqued as he saw my expression.

"Well, at least you got what you wanted." He shrugs. I look at him in disbelief.

"Got what I wanted?" I exclaim. "It is one thing to wish somebody out of your life. It is another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drain cleaner!"

"Hey!" He says in defense. "You did it, not me." We both fall silent. This is true, though.

"What happened after?" He pushes for details. I buzz my lips as I think for a moment.

"I didn't have to deal with her so much after that, but it riled up a ton of shit with the group. This other girl really thought she could take over Heather's place. Just another copy and paste." I laugh at the heck of it all.

"Well, Ralph ain't even back yet, so do tell." He lifts his cheek. Strange how he could still want to hear more of the shit story.

"Well, her name was Heather Duke," I add.

"A second Heather?" He drops his chin in disbelief. I nod slowly, forming a line with my lips.

"So Heather wanted to replace Heather," he laughs to himself.

"It gets better," I cut him off and straighten up.

"Heather Duke thought she could run everything all of a sudden. She pushed someone to almost taking her own life. Heather Macnamara."

"There's no way you have a third Heather in this story." Jack's voice slopes into a flat tone.

"That's the whole clique," I shrug. "Heather, Heather, Heather, and Veronica."

I bite my lip in contemplation before continuing.

"Macnamara was already vulnerable since her boyfriend and his friend had killed themselves weeks before."

Jack bobs his brows at the last part, a burst of air through his parted lips. I half expect him to talk about it.

"And when those two boys died, Heather Duke fed off the publicity our school had gotten for those two suicides. It was a big deal to our small town since they were like our star football players."

Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney. I hated them, but I never wanted them dead.

"She ate up the news cameras and fabricated the huge thought out stories. She was such a bitch. I was gonna mind my business, but she started this rumor that I was in some threeway with the two football players."

I can remember her leering voice clear as day. An image of her red lipstick was imprinted in the backs of my eyes. Oh! You can't judge me, little-miss-innocent! Your hands aren't clean, Sawyer. You act so uptight, so... so virgin white. Her smooth voice taunted me. -But I heard from the boys what you were up to last Saturday night. I shoo the echoes away.

Jack looks at me in an odd manner. "Did you...."

I wrinkle my nose. "No! You asshat!" My head snaps back to the fire. "The only thing that they had to offer this world was aids jokes and other obnoxious teenage boy 'humor'. I would never even touch them. So when I confronted her, she basically told me to eat up the attention while I had it. I slapped her right across the face right there."

I shiver again in the cold.

"You know, I'd enjoy seeing you beating someone down," Jack says, draping his coat over my shoulders. I go rigid at the weight of the heavy fabric. It smelled like expensive cologne. Despite being grateful, I don't utter any thanks as I was still suspicious to the random act of kindness.

"I wouldn't mind beating her down..." I admit. "Everyone believed the threeway rumor. I couldn't walk down the hallway without girls giggling and hearing the word whore get tossed around... I didn't really care that it's what people thought, but it's how they treated me afterwards."

Of course the girl doing this would be the one and only Heather Duke. The sad little poser. Taking Chandler's signature red chic like it was her own all of a sudden. No one owns colors, but everyone knew how crazy Heather Chandler could get if someone tried to take that quality from her.

"She even said I was a wanna-be version of her as if she wasn't wearing Heather Chandler's clothes and picking up on her speech. She tried to convince me that my new found confidence that I gained my junior and senior year was pointless, like I was some ugly whore."

I look at Jack with perplexity. "Was I wrong to slap her?" He waves a hand dismissively.

"Nah, don't give a shit about what a cookie cutter bitch has to say." I swallow and nod a bit, relieved with the half-hearted closure. Should it be valid coming from Jack is another story.

"You aren't even unattractive," he adds.

My chest tightens and I look at him in surprise.

"You think I'm pretty?"

"No."

My face falls and I roll my eyes. I give up with him. He ruins every brink of sensitivity ever. Jack looks away for a split moment and looks back at me, smiles, then looks away again.

"How gentlemanly of you," I say sarcastically. His smile falls when he sees a sight behind me -- a sight that's in my blind spot. Turning around, I see Ralph leading the group over after interrupting whatever game was going on with the little ones, and the hunt for fruit with the older kids. The little ones are all whining and dragging their feet.

"Ain't that just great!" Jack mutters, scowling slightly. I nod quickly. "Yes, it is."

♕︎♕︎♕︎

♕︎♕︎♕︎

I need to accept what is before this "obsession" kills me.