𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

SIXTY-THREE| keeping up with the pogues (island edition!)

ONE month.

That's what the white tally marks on the cave wall say.

 Eden Bexley has been living on an island—Poguelandia, as JJ had nicknamed it—for a full month. 

Growing up in the OBX, Eden was used to some of the conditions that she was forced to live with on Poguelandia. The natural heat and ungodly humidity was survivable—she'd lived enough summers to get used to that. Eating fish, while not her forte, wasn't the worst thing she could be eating. Living with her friends wasn't anything odd. 

But it had been a month and Eden was getting a little tired of the island life.

She wanted to take a hot shower. Shave her legs. Put on deodorant, and sleep in a bed or a couch; anything other than grainy sand. She missed her Coconut Redbulls and Spotify and her Airpods. She even misses pads and tampons—if anyone wants to know to survive your period on a deserted island, Eden can show you how she converted leaves into makeshift pads. 

Now, John B. had been right when he said that even if they were stuck on an island, they still had each other and that was what really mattered. Eden loved getting to truly live with her friends—she'd been 'living' at the Chateau since forever, but even then she still had to leave the group every few days to go home. Now the Pogues were her home. 

The group had fallen into different roles to help the group thrive on the island. 

John B. had collected firewood every day to set up bonfires, Sarah weaved out of coconut leaves to create makeshift blankets to lay on, Cleo had helped them figure out what was edible and what wasn't, Pope had been exploring the island to see what they had, JJ had been catching fish and—recently—making a Poguelandia flag as he'd promised, and Kiara had been helping along in any way she could, making weapons or weaving.

Eden? She'd spent her island time collecting coconuts and berries, as well as somehow making bracelets out of leaves, shells, and the rope Pope had managed to find. 

Everyone did the most that they could and that was enough. For having little resources, the Pogues had managed to create a decent life on a deserted island—and for some....a better life than they ever had on the OBX.

 Everyone had food in their stomachs, a place to sleep. No one was worrying about the next bill they had to pay with money they didn't have—they hadn't died of heat stroke or starvation and dehydration, which the Bexley knows is good.

But, despite how decent their life on Poguelandia is, Eden isn't sure how much longer she can eat coconuts and sit around a fire singing Kumbaya acting like this isn't their rock bottom.

Poguelandia was fun and games at times, sure. But realistically, how long could they really spend deserted on an island? How long until they get a horrible sunburn or heat stroke? How long until they become dehydrated or run out of coconuts—Eden isn't sure they'd ever run out of coconuts because God she's seen too many of them this past month. 

How long until shit went wrong because how were seven teens stuck on an island supposed to work out in the long run? How were they supposed to survive for another month? Five? A year? 

Eden doesn't want to know. 

"Would you look at that...."

Currently, Eden Bexley is walking back to the cave they'd found a few hours after landing on Poguelandia. It gave a decent amount of space and shade, and the group had marked it as their spot, sleeping and setting up all they could find within the cave.