Stranded with Niall Horan || n.h.

Chapter 9 - Jackpot

“Alright.” I said as I got up and put my hair into a ponytail. “Let’s do this.”

“Let’s do what?” Niall asked, as he stood up next to me.

“Well, sitting on the beach enjoying each other’s company is fun and all, but we have stuff to take care of before it gets dark. Let’s see, how about you work on the fire and finding shelter and I work on getting food and water?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Niall said as he saluted me and gave me a smirk. I rolled my eyes accordingly. He brushed past me and walked slowly into the jungle.

Yep, this island had some sort of lush jungle in the middle of it. It looked very creepy and dark, and mysterious. I was not looking forward to exploring any bit of it. I looked down at my bare feet (I suppose my shoes were surfing the waves of the Pacific at this moment) and grimaced at the thought of what I would be walking through. I lifted open the suitcase and rummaged around until I found what I was looking for: flip flops. They were about two sizes too big, but beggars can’t be choosers; they would do. I took a deep breath and made my way into Niana Jungle.

It was exotic, to say the least. There were all sorts of plants that I never knew existed, and all kinds of bugs I wish never existed. On some random tree trunk, I saw a black beetle that was about the size of my palm. I quietly tip-toed away and hoped to God that I didn’t anger it with my gaping. I spied a couple of coconuts on the ground and made sure the coast was clear of any unpleasant insects before I swiped them. After finding nothing but coconuts and feeling incredibly discouraged, I ventured back to the beach and found Niall sitting on the beach rubbing a stick against a dead piece of wood with all his might.

“How’s it going?” I asked, entertained by the look of determination on his sweaty face.

“It’s…going.” he said, not taking his eyes off his task for a second. I knelt to his level, and wiped his face with the bottom of my dress – making sure I didn’t expose parts of my body that needn’t be exposed, of course.

“Thanks.” he said appreciatively, glancing up at me and then at the coconuts. “Is that lunch?”

“If I can get them open.” I said as I walked over to this large rock that was by the ocean’s edge. I eyed the coconuts, then the rock, and then the coconuts again. I held one coconut in my hand and brought it up to eye-level. “You just have to ask yourself one question: do I feel lucky? Well? Do ya? Punk?” I said as I slammed it furiously into the rock.

“Quoting Clint Eastwood now, are we?” Niall grunted as he continued with his mission.

I blushed, and picked up the coconut. “It worked though.” I said as I pointed out the small crack in the husk. “Maybe you should try it.”

He laughed it off, but after a minute I could hear him muttering, “C’mon punk…you won’t be so lucky when I’m through with you…sparks will fly, my little wooden friend.” It wasn’t exactly Eastwood material, but if sounding "tough" worked for Niall, it worked for me. I smiled as I continued to smash both of the coconuts into the rock. I must say, it’s a great way to get rid of rage and frustration. Eventually, the husk was cracked enough for me to rip apart and soon, I was only left with the brown, hard shell. I wiped some sweat off my forehead with my arm, opening a coconut was pure manual labor, let me tell ya.

I walked a little further up the beach and retrieved my purse and lifejacket. As I walked back I unzipped my bag and searched for something. Something I was sure I put in here. Something that would definitely help right about now. Aha! I pulled out my metal nail file. I sat down on the beach as the water played with my toes. I eyed the coconut with great contempt. You are not going to get the best of me, you little twerp. I turned the coconut so the three dark spots were facing up towards me. You know, now that I think about it, a coconut kind of looks like an oval bowling ball. It’s not really relevant, it’s just an observation.