Page 36
Story: Stranded
The sky quickly starts to darken. Butchering Brutus took most of the day since he was so big. The jerky should be ready in the morning, which gives me tonight to myself, to try to calm down.
It was strange being around people again. I was still wary of them, but I wasn’t terrified anymore. I know I’ve only known them for a couple of days, but they had an opportunity to do anything to me when I passed out, and they did nothing except clean me and put me to bed.
I glance down at the red marks on my arms. Yeah, they cleaned those, too. They’re already looking better.
If anything, I just feel nervous that they are going to think I’m weird or crazy, and for some reason, it feels important that they like me. I rollon my side and my eyes search for Steve. Crap shells! I left him in my bag by the fire. I know I could go down and get it, but after the way I ran out of there, I’m too embarrassed to show my face just yet. I can sleep without Steve for another night.
“Tink!” Bower’s voice has me sitting up in my hammock in alert. “Tink, I have your bag here for you!” My eyes widen in surprise.How did he know I needed that?“I’m gonna put it at the base of this tree, by the balcony.”
I wait a few minutes, then quietly climb down the tree. When I see my bag resting at the first juncture of branches, a wide smile splits my face as I quickly drop down to grab it, snatching it up and throwing the strap over my head.
As I turn to climb back up, my eyes catch on a small movement and I realize Weston is standing outside the hut, leaning against it with his arms crossed as he assesses me. I freeze, wondering if this was some sort of trap. But when he doesn’t move, I slowly reach out to grab a branch and he just watches me silently.
When I turn away to see where I’m going, I hear him whisper, “Goodnight, Zee.”
I leap up to the next branch as I contemplate replying. But by the time I decide that I should say something, it’s been way too long and I’m halfway up the tree.
Why am I so awkward?
“Probably because you’ve been stranded on a desert island for fifteen years, with only a lemur, and a rock as friends,” I tell myself while shaking my head. EvenIthink that sounds crazy.
When I get back to my hammock, I clutch Steve to my chest and softly smile, thinking about how I ran out on Bower but he still made sure I gotmy bag back, without having to go and talk to him. My chest warms at the thought.
My mind shifts to Weston’s watchful gaze as I traversed the tree. What was he thinking? Why was he watching me like that? How was it these three were already having such a strong effect on me after such a short time?
Did I need to distance myself from them? To keep myself safe? Or should I give in to the temptation to be around them? I let those thoughts spin in my head as I drift off to another fitful sleep.
I moan as the sun starts to rise, waking me up. The nightmares wake me most nights, but normally I get a nap in during the day to recover my sleep. I didn't have that these past two days and I’m starting to feel the lack of sleep. I’ll have to make sure I get one in today or I’ll be too exhausted to do anything.
After cleaning my teeth, I head down to the ground to check on the jerky. The camp is quiet, so I assume the guys are all still asleep. I feel a little more relaxed without them watching me, so I take my time checking the meat.
“Good morning, Zee,” someone says from behind me. I quickly pull McStabby from its sheath and spin around with it pointed at… Weston. When he sees my knife, he takes a quick step backwards and raises his hands in defeat. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
I let out the breath and lower my knife, turning back to the meat. “I didn’t hear you come down.” Which was surprising since I normally hear everything. Damn, I was losing my senses already around these guys. That was gonna get me killed, just hopefully, not by them.
“Is the jerky ready?” he asks as he slowly moves up beside me to see what I’m doing.
“No, probably another day.” I stand up straight and look at Weston. He’s just staring at me with an expressionless look on his face. I’d love to know what he’s thinking right now. After a minute of awkward staring, I adjust my bag and break eye contact.
“I’m going to go get some mangos. Do you…” I trail off as I nervously glance back at him. “Do you want to come?”
A small smile graces his lips, then he nods. “I’ll go grab my bag.”
I shake my head. “You won’t need it, mine will carry enough for one each. We don’t want to pick more than we can eat in one day.”
“That’s smart,” he says with a nod.
I lead the way out of camp and we head towards the beach in silence. I’ve spoken to Weston the least of all three of them, and he’s the hardest to read. I’m not really sure what he thinks of me. Sometimes I think he’s barely tolerating me.
The silence between us seems to turn into tension as my hands wring the strap of my bag. I thought he'd say something by now and the silence feels like it will literally kill me, but I have no idea how to do small talk.
I’m saved by the need to think of what to say to him when we arrive on the beach and I immediately spot Bob heading straight for us. “Look out!” I cry, as I try to push Weston out of the way. But as my hands press into his firm chest, he doesn’t budge. Then he surprises me by wrappinghis body around mine and turning me away from Bob, giving him his back.
Bob squawks, so I peek out from where I’m pressed against Weston’s chest to see him flying away.
I take a moment to let myself calm down as I realize Weston is still holding me tightly against him. It feels like every nerve in my body is alight for the first time in years. I press my nose against his chest and inhale deeply. He smells of the ocean and a tinge of fire.
The urge to know what it would be like to hug him for real overtakes my brain and I slowly slide my arms around his back. They come nowhere near being able to reach each other, but I press my palms to his back and gently squeeze him, like he’s still doing to me.
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