Dallas and I didn’t get nearly as much done as we thought we could have. In total, maybe forty to fifty braided strands, maybe enough to weave a basket small enough for a single fish. We decided to return to camp as the sun started to set, knowing we’d need the help of the others to finish this project if we ever wanted to eat.
We walked in silence, a comfortable silence, a silence that neither of us felt necessary to break– like we said all that we needed to. Even though I wanted desperately to fill the space between us, to ask him more questions about his life, to get to know him even more. And I hoped that he wanted to do the same. But this wasn’t the time, not with a million more life threatening subjects on our minds.
As we returned, there was a clear emptiness of noise at camp, that constant banging of stone on stone had ended. Everyone sat around the fire, a new shade of weaved fronds above them. “Where have you two been?” Zack asked, not looking at us in the slightest.
Dallas dropped our supplies, “Nowhere specific.” And that was enough of an answer to yield a nod from Zack and the others, enough for us to join them around the flames and fall in their eerie silence too.
It’s not that there weren't topics to talk about– I mean– there were plenty. Who would be helping us tomorrow with braiding strands? How far along is Shawn with the stone carving? Do we need more fronds weaved together? Is anyone going to venture further into the woods? And on top of all those questions, there were the impending thoughts of our loved ones. How are our parents? Is anyone looking for us? What’s happening out there? Are we lost for good?
But it seemed those questions fell into the back of our own minds, none of us willing or ready to ask them right now. Yet, there was one outstanding question on my mind, one singular question that kept me up for most of the night.
How long can we last without something to drink?
Today marked our fourth day without it, which by my calculations, was way over the maximum days allotted. But you could see it in our faces, how gaunt they were and how little energy we had. There was the beach, something to cool us off and subtly taste the refreshing water within, despite the extremely salty flavor– we knew we couldn’t drink much of it. So we managed, but we couldn’t for much longer.
One by one they fell asleep, my brother being the first. I worried for him, that at any moment he could perish in his sleep, but at least he had Gem who held him and listened. All of us listened. Aria laid down too, followed by Zack who wrapped her tightly on top of newly weaved mats. I would love to lay down and sleep too, to turn my mind off and fall under the sea. But the chaos reeling behind my eyes wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t just the future I thought of, or just tomorrow that I thought of–
But the past eight days that we’d been stuck together...
I climbed on that cruiser boat with a smile on my face and a small bag packed with sunscreen and a towel and a change of clothes, not to mention the book in my hand and sunglasses around my eyes. My brother never looked happier behind the wheel, adorned in a captains hat he purchased online for the occasion.
He assured me that snacks and lunch and plenty of alcohol would be supplied, and he wasn’t wrong. For hours we sailed in the open ocean, truly enjoying each other's company. There was Gem who I'd met previously and my brother’s two best friends whom I’d known for some time. Aria was a new addition, but she was nice and kind and complimented my taste in literature. All was good, all was perfect– until it wasn’t.
We saw the first storm approaching us, deeming it time to head back to shore. Little did we know just how unprepared my brother was to be captaining our venture.
I’ll never forget the way my stomach dropped when the boat wouldn’t start, when we realized it ran out of gas. But I stayed calm, had everyone pull out their phones and attempt a signal to no avail. I remember asking where we were, how far out we went– my brother didn’t know.
He was far too drunk to know.
But at the very least there was Dallas who had some common sense and proposed we drop the anchor, even with the storm brewing, we all thought that drifting about wouldn’t be a smart choice. So we did– drop the anchor. And we watched as the storm moved straight for us, as the clouds darkened above us, as the waves raged and knocked our boat lopsided. It was a last minute decision to pull the anchor. Amidst the rain and screams and jostling of the boat, we managed to free the anchor, but not in the way we wanted to.
We completely detached from it, leaving us with no way of staying put. But at the very least, the boat was able to drift over the roaring waves. Who knows how long that tiny thing would’ve lasted if it were stuck in one place. Just one good wave, one good wash– and we all would’ve been lost to the ocean. But it didn’t make weathering the storm any easier, it didn't make holding on for dear life any easier.
My eyes shot open– “Are you okay?” His face was above me, eyes drawn in concern with a hand on my chest. I sat up, steadied my labored breathing and tried focusing strictly on the heat from the fire. “You were shaking like a seizure.”
I met his eyes, those emerald eyes; “Nightmare.” It was just a nightmare, well… reality– but still a nightmare. And I could see the conclusions drawing in his eyes, in his posture. “I was reliving the boat.” I admitted.
His hand found my shoulders and pulled at me, leaning me into the crook of his neck– a similar position to that day on the boat, that day I exploded on my brother. “It’s okay.” He whispered, using his other hand to softly run through my tangled hair. “It’s okay.”
Despite what I thought of earlier, of whatever was happening between us, it didn’t matter right now. Right now, he held me and consoled me and that’s all I really needed. I wouldn’t speak, afraid of what croak or cry might escape my lips, instead I stayed quiet and allowed the rhythm of his hand to calm my spirit.
“Do you wanna know another secret?” He whispered again, closing the silence but for the roar of insects in the distance. I didn’t have to respond for him to start talking again, “Sometimes I see that boat out in the distance, like a, like a vision of rescue or something. I feel my heart race and I stand to my feet, only to realize it’s my imagination. Yesterday, I saw it twice. I saw it in the tree we climbed and I saw it when we sat together on that hill earlier.
“I know it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but why? Ya know? Why is my mind doing that to me?” He squeezed my shoulder and I felt his chin rest on my head, “I’m certain the others have their fair share of delusions too, Zack even told me that he heard his Mom in the woods our first day here. Can you believe that? Ha, it’s crazy how that doesn’t sound crazy, hm?
“And ever since, even though it’s only been two days, well– three now. I’ve been hoping to hear my Mom too, or my Dad, whichever one wants to talk.” He took a long breath, “We’re all going insane on this island, every single one of us. But I feel like us two have it the hardest. They have each other, they have someone to hold and cry to, someone to share their feelings with, someone to share their delusions with. You and me– well… I guess we just have each other, right?” He squeezed again, wrapping his fingers around my wrist.
“I wonder what this would be like if Krista was out here instead of you, how much harder this would be if we didn’t have you.” He tightened the grip on my wrist and my heart jumped a beat, “You’ve been our saving grace out here, whether anyone wants to admit it or not, even when you gave up for that short while. Your presence helped– or at least it helped me. So thank you, seriously. I don’t know what we’d do out here if it weren’t for you.”
I lifted my head from the crook of his neck, met his softened eyes that glistened in the moonlight– “No, thank you.” My heart felt warm under his gaze, under the presence of this man. “I have to say, I do wish it was Krista out here instead of me…” and we chuckled under our breath, “But only because I’d be doing everything in the world to save you guys.” He smiled, showing that little twitch above his eyebrow again.
I leaned my head back into his neck and he didn’t hesitate in resuming our previous positioning. “I have a secret too.” I started, closing my eyes as I began, “Sometimes, I find myself wondering what it would be like if we were stuck out here forever. I find myself in this fantasy where we created a home on this island and lived together like one big family, all of us in separate houses and free access to the beach.” I paused, “Sometimes I don’t want to go back home. I don’t want to go back to the life I had with the debt and disappointment and loneliness. For some reason, I imagine a new life here, a new life with you… with everyone I mean– all of us together and thriving and laughing and fighting like one big dysfunctional family.
“I’m afraid of what life has in store for me. Nothing, and I mean nothing has come easy to me. Money or success or love– it’s just hard to imagine that anything would be different if we escaped this place. So I imagine a new life here. Does that make me crazy?”
“No.” He whispered. “It doesn’t.”
I took the chance of planting my arm between his bent knees, laying it in between his legs so that I could hold on to something– anything. And he didn’t object, “I feel crazy. But I share that secret of yours, about what this island would be like without you. My brother is my brother but… he’s broken and rebuilding. You– you’re just you, and I find myself always thinking about you.” I wasn’t sure of what I meant when I said that, or how he would take it but I continued.
“You’re the only person out here that makes me feel safe. You’re the only person who cared enough about me to console me on that boat, when I’d lost my mind and deserved none of it. It’s like, it’s like– the push and pull of the water. I push and you pull and vice-versa. I don’t know what I’m trying to say but just understand this– I appreciate every little thing you’ve done for me these past eight days, and I’ll never forget them.”
I felt his chin move slightly, felt his nose at my hair and the sound of a kiss to my head. Or maybe I was making it up amongst the crashing waves, making it up to live out my fantasy– or maybe he felt the same way I did and was just too scared to admit it.
We stayed like that a while until I slid off him and into the sand, staring at the stars that littered the sky. “Do you need a pillow?” He asked me as he too laid down on his back, staring at the sky with me. “I don’t mind it.” He added.
I didn’t mention how obviously flirtatious that question was, or how this entire conversation between us made my heart flutter inside my chest. Instead I rolled to my side and laid my head on his chest, let his arm fold around me and laid my own across his torso. He was warm, and so was I.
And falling asleep suddenly became much easier.
: : : : :
You’d think we’d wake up with some new found peace. You’d think…
But instead, we woke in a panic as Aria’s tiny figure had gone entirely pale, as the cracks in her lips deepened and she could barely open her eyes.
I suppose that’s all we needed to hightail the water mission, to help my brother despite his want to do it on his own. And within two hours that morning, we filled the shallow stone with as much water as we could and rigged four sticks to prop it above the fire. Gem and I quickly weaved together a lid for the stone and poked a sizable enough hole to fit the broken glass bottle through. And within just a few minutes, condensation was filling that glass bottle and we fed every drop to Aria until she felt better.
It was hours worth of work and panic, Zack specifically losing his mind. But it really was water that she needed, it was water we all needed– and soon we all had our first taste of clean drinking water. Not much, but something.
Zack tended to the fire and water station, collecting as much water as he could, drop by drop– filling shells from the beach and makeshift bottles out of fronds. The other four of us continued the project of our net, braiding and braiding and braiding. And with eight hands in the mix and the sun just above us, we finally felt we had a net that could maybe catch something.
Dallas took it upon himself to dive out into the crystal clear water, and with such a small net, we let him go by himself. I for one needed a rest from such a hectic day– and with some sustenance of fresh water in my belly, my mind was finally seeing things clearly.
I thought about our conversation last night, about everything we discussed and shared. It’s not that I confessed any attraction to the man, even if there was some, but there was something loving about how it all ended. I fell asleep in his arms, my head on his chest, listening to the thump of his heart and lulling to sleep from the rise and fall of his chest. I understand how it looks, and how quickly my mind was racing. But what about his? Was it all an act of self preservation? Was it a conversation he felt he needed to have? Was that his way of just telling me that he needed someone too?
Or was it more? Was it the start to something truly good on this fucked up island?
My brother plopped next to me on the sand, breaking the silence I had from the others; “So…”
“So…” I repeated.
He sighed, “I woke up for a second last night and added to the fire…” He started and my stomach turned, “I saw you and Dallas uhm– comfortable.”
“And?” I asked, whipping my eyes to him; “We were cold.” I lied, for the sake of Dallas– shit, for the sake of me too. “We don’t have our lovers on the beach with us.”
“Don’t you?” He asked, “Listen… I’m not mad–”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating right now Shawn, but I know it’s not that.” I stated flatly, defense painted in my tone. “We were cold and jealous that everyone else had someone to warm up to. That’s it. That’s all.” I didn’t stutter, even though I lied through my teeth.
He raised his hands, “Okay.” And he paused, letting the tension dwindle between us before adding something else, “I just know how attached you can get and how quickly Dallas can skip around.” I shot him a glare, “I’m just saying Carter, don’t let this island impair your judgment–” and then he spoke those words I knew were coming, those words that broke any hope I may have had. “He’s not gay– he’s just lonely.”
“You don’t think I know that?” I quipped, “Can you just keep this to yourself maybe? I swear it meant nothing to me.” It’s crazy how easily a lie could slip through my lips.
He nodded and went quiet, leaving me to overanalyze every word we spoke last night. Of course he isn’t gay– he had a girlfriend for fuck’s sake. But I can’t lie to myself, maybe to my brother, but not to me. I did feel attached to Dallas, I did feel something else there, and I swore I felt it from him too. But maybe Shawn is right, maybe he is just lonely.
I stood from my spot and told him I’d go for a walk, leaving him alone and to his own thoughts, hoping he’d keep whatever he saw last night to himself.
I walked a good while along the beach until I found the spot we sat at yesterday, that little hill with the palm tree. I took a seat and stared out, knowing there wasn’t much else I could be doing. We had shelter now, water– kind of. Maybe food if Dallas could manage to catch something. All I needed now was some peace, some time alone to think.
To think of what life had offered me before this whole situation, to think of what kind of life I’d be coming back to. Shawn made a point, I did get attached easily. Every single one of my exes for example, I could paint their face to the tee if I had any type of artistry in my bones. And I wasn’t even in love with them either, but I can still picture them perfectly. Jayce and his blonde hair and blue eyes. Devin and his short curls and glasses, that mole below his eye. And Kyle with his anime obsession and dark slick hair. I didn’t love any of them– but I could still remember.
Love was such a strong word, it’s true, it is. None of those boys could fill me the way I needed, none of them could satisfy me the way I craved. And it wasn’t that I was picky– well maybe a little– but it was more about their perspectives on life, what they wanted from it. For me, I always dreamed big, always wanted that perfect American dream. And when I found someone who wanted to live in the moment and take it day by day, it threw me– it suffocated me.
I just wanted someone I could grow with, someone who’d support me in my wildest dreams, and someone I could support with theirs. I just never found that, not in twenty two years.
But even so, I felt that strong connection with this straight man– with Dallas. I knew that he worked in construction but dreamed of flipping houses, dreamed of making it big and living that perfect life. He dreamed, he was a dreamer, just like me. And despite his body, despite his short black hair and green eyes, despite his pink lips and dotted freckles and everything else I found so extremely attractive about him– at the end of the day he was straight.
Shawn knew to make that point to me, to knock me off this dream painted pedestal. I mean, what was I thinking? That he’d love me? That his sexuality would switch due to some fucked up island? That he wouldn’t crawl back to the girl he claimed that he loved? Was I that delusional?
Clearly I was. But not anymore.
I resumed that position from those first two days, my knees hugged to my chest– like I’d lost hope yet again. And I don’t know how long I sat there, but it was long enough for someone to come find me, for him to find me.
“Hey.” He chirped, passing my view and taking a seat next to me. “No luck so far, I might try again later.” I stayed silent, unmoving as I watched the clouds gather above the ocean. “What’s wrong?”
I turned to look at him, that face that I dreamed of. “Nothing.” I looked back to the sea, silently hoping he’d leave.
“Doesn’t sound like nothing, what’s up? What’s on your mind?” He asked, lending his hand to my shoulder again but I shrugged it off, not needing a reminder of what I couldn’t have. “Okay.” He whispered and hugged his knees too.
We sat in that silence for some time and I refused to look in his direction. Something was bubbling to the surface within me, hurt and rage and jealousy. I hated that I couldn’t just speak my mind, hated that I couldn’t tell him how I felt, then run away and never see him again. But that’s impossible out here, instead I needed to bottle those feelings and hope they don’t shatter like that hopeful bottle we found together.
He groaned out of nowhere, “I hate it here.” And that’s something we could agree on.
“Same.”
“He speaks.” He teased, “C’mon, what’s up? What’s wrong? You look upset.”
I took a deep inhale, fighting all the urges to cry and yell. “I’m just…” I thought carefully on how I’d put this, “I’m struggling to keep it together.”
“Me too.” He said, a lie if I ever heard one. He had the most level head out of everyone, the work-horse of our group. “But at least I got you, hm?” He punched my shoulder, earning zero movement from me. “Hm?”
I opened my mouth to speak but closed it, looked at him, all of him– “I want to be alone.”
He looked offended by the statement, like just the other day he had no opposition to leaving me alone when I asked. “No.”
“No?” I retorted, scrunching my nose and widening my eyes.
“No.” He said again, “I don’t think you should be alone.” He shook his head lightly, something sparking in his eyes as he explained, “And honestly, I don’t want to be alone either.”
There’s plenty of other people for him to be around, I thought. But instead I tightened my lips and narrowed my eyes at the man I couldn’t read. What was going on up there? What was he thinking? What part of him gave him agency to decide what I needed?
I shook my head, “I want to be alone.” I repeated.
He sat there silent, unmoving to my words like a child who couldn’t get their way. A part of me thought for a second that Shawn broke his word and talked to him, something I wouldn’t put past him. And a part of me thought that maybe there was truth to his sentiment– that not being with me did feel alone, even if he was with the others.
“I’m sorry if this comes across as rude,” he started, “But I don’t care. I–” He looked out to the ocean and then back to me, “You’re the only one here I feel sane around. The others, they pester me and stress me and I feel like I have to take care of them but you… it’s easy with you.” He smiled.
But I frowned back, “Well I’m sorry if this comes across as rude– but it’s really fucking hard to think when you’re next to me.” His smile dropped, “Literally all I can think about is you and if you’re okay and what the fuck is going on inside your head because my head is spinning to say the least.” Everything was coming up, everything was blurting out; “All I can think about is why you’re so fucking nice to me and why you put your arm around me and why you like to fucking hold me at night.” I didn’t even notice the way my breathing became ragged, “I can’t stop fucking thinking, okay. And you aren’t helping, you aren’t doing anything to make it any bette–”
He cut me off with his lips to mine. A simple and quick kiss that shut my mouth from speaking, that shut my mind from thinking.
And when he pulled away, his hands found mine. “Maybe because I like you.”
I shook my head, “You don’t like me. You’re just lonely.” I repeated what my brother had said to me, knowing it to be the truth.
“Half true.” He said, “I am lonely. I also like you.”
“No you don’t. You aren’t– gay.” I treated the word like it was forbidden.
He smirked, laughed even– “And?” he stated plainly, “Do I have to be, to like you?”
I froze in place, eyed him from head to our hands and back to his eyes that smiled all the same as his lips. “I–”
He kissed me again, longer, deeper– an assuring kiss that silently said “stop talking”. He pulled away and confessed again, “I don’t give a shit about titles, not out here.”
And that made me smile, that broke me free of the frown. “And what about after?” I asked, not being able to fight my mind from trying to ruin the moment, from trying to ruin the good.
“Who says there is an after?” He raised his brows, “All I got is right now.”
I smiled, even though there was the glimmer of distrust, the glimmer of impending failure. “Okay.” I said, letting this moment ride between us, freeing my thoughts of what could be– he was right.
All we had was right now– all we had was this moment on this island and the ocean in front of us with no guarantee for tomorrow.
“Okay.” He whispered back, leaning in and pecking my lips softly. “Now can I put my arm around you?” He smirked.
And I obliged– with a smirk of my own.
T.C. - Okay, so now we're moving along. But trust, this story isn't what you think it is-- there is a big twist coming. As always, comment and upvote!
