Island of Men

Chapter 4- "Anyone have any S'mores?"

Emma couldn't remember falling asleep.  But she sure as hell remembered waking up.  The second her eyes slowly opened, she thought she was dreaming.  On either side of her was Luke and Miles, both snoring louldy and shoved closer to her than she thought imaginable. 

Well, this is awkward, thought Emma. Emma was right, this was awkward.  How does one who has barely even held hands with a guy wake up nestled between two?  Ah, the island.  Shucks.   It was then that Emma remembered what had happened, as she slowly extricated herself from between the two.  She looked for David and saw that he was right behind Miles, shoved into the back of the shelter and sound asleep. 

Great.  Just great.  We'll pretend this never happened. Emma slipped out of the shelter and realized that she was still wearing Luke's shirt.  She definitely wasn't going to take that off any time soon.  She stared down the beach, looking for any noticeable landmarks.

The island was averagely tropical, with a wide, long white beach that stretched down about a mile then curved out of sight.  Right up the bank of the beach was a thick wall of trees, contrasted brightly by the vein-blue sky.   As she stepped back towards the water, she could tell that the island wasn't quite flat.  Off in the distance, she could see the island slope up, with jagged mountains and friendly peaks.  The air was warm, but not in a central-America sort of way.  Emma didn't feel choked by the humidity, or uncomfortably surrounded by the heat, but rather at peace.  The weather was in one word, ideal. 

Well, time to take stock.   One slightly healed, twisted ankle.  Check.  One pair of underwear.  One bra.  One slightly torn pair of jeans.  One tank top.  One plaid button up.  Two socks.  One pair of black converses, slightly waterlogged and sitting on the beach.  Two hair ties.  One bobby pin.  One satchel.  One completely dead iPhone 5c.  One dollar.  One pen.  One chapstick, tropical flavor, ironically enough.  Two breath mints.  And finally one gift certificate to Old Navy.  Just snazzy. 

Emma was always the sort of person to take stock of things.  It helped her categorize what she needed to do, and had done, and solidified all the jumbled thoughts inside her head.  Lists always made her feel less out of her depth.  Less unsure. She just needed to feel a little less confused about everything, and lists seemed reasonable for the current situation.

Not that Emma was one of those girls that always needed to be told she was pretty, or reassured of her own personality. To be totally honest, Emma knew she was fairly average looking. She was a good height, 5'8", and just on the line between an average weight and curvy. Her eyes couldn't quite commit to one color; they were an inner ring of gold, then blue, then brown. Her face was rather heart shaped, a fact that wasn't exactly her favorite. Her hair was brown, with hints of gold on a good day. It reached her chest comfortably, and was always parted slightly to the right. Emma looked like tea, like a strong brew of Earl Grey. Most days, she just felt more like an average blend of Green Tea, not that she'd ever tell anyone else that. Her nose was a tad long, and slightly German. And she had a slight tendency to blush over the slightest things, a hereditary trait inherited from her mother's side of the family. She also had nice skin, if that helped.  She wasn't gorgeous, but that didn't really matter to her.

She glanced at the sun- barely halfwway up in the sky, so maybe about 9 in the morning.  The boys were still sleeping.  After straightening herself out as best as possible, and combing through her hair, Emma walked back to the shelter.  She grabbed a few of the mangoes and slowly sliced them open, making sure not to cut herself.  Emma wasn't the best with knives.  In fact, just being around boys made her clumsy.  She found a rather flat rock, made of schist-like material, and spread out the sliced mango all over it.  It tasted good, sure, but Emma was hungry for something more filling.

The boys woke up.

"What's for breakfast, woman?"  David had this thing where he thought sexism was attractive, that it made him more of a man.  Maybe he thought that false macho-ness up for the fact that he easily weighed less than anyone on the island. Whatever the reason, he just wouldn't be convinced that it wasn't sexy. 

"Let me think... mango.  Mango.  Or mango.  What do you pick?"  Emma had learned over time that retaliating to his stupid comments wasn't even worth her time. 

"Morning Emma. You feeling better?" asked Miles.  Out of all of them, he definitely was the only one who had remembered his manners.  He glanced at her ankle, as she sat leaned up against a tree.

"Better.  Not great, but better."  Even if she had felt worse, she never would have told them that. 

They sat around eating, once again splitting a few coconuts open to drink from.  The milk seemed repulsively sweet, even less satisfying than it had been the night before. 

"We really need to find water.  Last night, after you fell asleep, we decided to send out another group today.  I'm staying here and Miles and David will go."  Luke squared his jaw resolutely, and continued to eat.  No one said anything else. Even though everyone had slept decently, they were still undernourished and dehydrated.

Before the boys left, Emma handed them her brown satchel.  It had a waterproof lining in the interior, and would come in handy if they actually found water. 

A few minutes later, Emma and Luke could no longer hear them stalking noisily off into the foliage.

"So... you got any s'mores?"  Luke smirked, as Emma looked confused.  "Because we need to figure out how to make a fire."

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Hola y'all!  I've finally gotten the writing bug again, and I think I'll try to write at least once a day.  Tell me what you think, if you have any suggestions or critiques.  I also accept bitcoin and Costco churros. 

Sound good? 

First commenter gets a dedication :)

-Me.