Two female soccer teams. One deserted island. Twins, Lennon and June have no choice but to adjust to the elements of the wild when their plane crashes on the way to Nationals, leaving them stranded with their rival team. Friendships are tested, rela...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
LENNON.
We had traveled so far into the jungle that it took us quite some time to make it to the second crash sight. When we made it there, we began calling out Coach Stratford's name as we searched the area frantically for him. If he wasn't there, I couldn't imagine he would be anywhere else. And so, he had to be there. He just had to be.
"Stratford!" I yelled into the air, spinning in a full circle as everyone else looked all around me.
Now that the flames and smoke had cleared, we could see that there wasn't much left of the rear of the plane. Debris was all over the clearing, but not a single body or proof anyone had even died on that end of the plane in the first place. It was strange, to think that people had been there and then they weren't—the explosion had turned them into nothing.
"Over here!" Ivy suddenly exclaimed from where she stood at the tail of the plane.
We all rushed over and when my eyes fell on Coach Stratford, it took everything in me not to throw up on the spot. From his bicep, his left arm was hanging off, arteries and joints covered in blood, barely holding it together like string. His arm had been completely maimed—and there was no saving it, and maybe no saving Coach Stratford.
"Is he..." Evie stopped mid-sentence, her eyes pooling with tears as she wrapped her baby blue cardigan further around her body for comfort.
Hattie crouched down in front of him, trying her best to avoid looking at his mangled arm. She reached out, pressing her index and middle finger against Coach Stratford's throat. Everyone held their breaths, watching as she felt for a pulse. If he was alive, it was barely. He looked like a fucking zombie sitting there, blood all over his clothes and his skin a ghostly blue.
"He's alive," Everyone collectively let out the breaths they had been holding in relief. "Help me move him." She ordered, lifting his back from where it had been resting against the tail of the plane.
Ivy and Kitty crouched down, offering help. Ethan took a step forward but June's hand caught his wrist. She locked her eyes on his, "Ethan, you don't have to." She told him softly, giving his hand a squeeze. I watched the moment pass between them as they shared a look.
"It's alright," He assured her, reached up and giving her hand a squeeze back. "Besides, I'm the only one that can lift him." He added reasonably. That might have been true, despite each of us being athletes and reasonably strong, Ethan was stronger than all of us combined and Coach Stratford wasn't a small guy. We needed him if we had any chance at getting him back to camp.
