HOPE
LUKE
Sarah was slicing up a mango, the juice sticky on her fingers, while Josh flipped through one of the scientist’s journals from the abandoned campsite.
Occasionally, he’d read out loud–random facts about the island’s fruit, strange bird species, and then something that made Sarah’s hand freeze mid–slice.
“This is one of the most luscious, inhibited islands on the outskirts of Indonesia in the… Ara-” Josh frowned at the page, sounding it out. “The Arafura Sea.”
Sarah sat bolt upright, eyes wide. “What did you just say?”
Josh looked up, bemused, then paged back. “The islands are home to bird species like Bronze–tailed Peacock–Pheasant-”
“No! The part about where we are, idiot! Not the birds!” She lobbed a piece of mango at him, which he dodged with a laugh.
He squinted at the page again. “The Arafura Sea? Did I say that wrong?” he repeated, emphasizing it and then thinking about it… “Wait, you mean there’s a sea beside the Indian, Atlantic, and Pacific?”
I watched Sarh’s face light up with pure rage, frustration, or both.
I couldn’t help laughing from my spot in the sand. “Really, Josh?
09-06
HOPE
There are more oceans than that. Don’t make us a stereotype. I beg of you. People think football players are dumb to start with, and you are not helping right now.” I sat up, looking between him and Sarah, who was glaring at him with an exasperated expression.
“The Arafura Sea is connected to the Indian, genius,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Maybe read more than just football stats once in a while.”
Josh mouthed obscenities in her direction, but they were too soft for anyone to hear. He grabbed the piece of mango she flung at him and shoved it into his mouth. I chuckled and dropped back down to continue my sunbathing.
With dehydration and hunger lurking around the corner – who cares about a little sunburn.
Sarah jumped up with a huff and ran up and down the island, looking for… She pulled up a stick, ran down to the beach, and plopped down onto her knees.
Curious, I looked at her, then at Josh. “We lost Sarah to the heat, maybe?” I murmured.
He shrugged and continued paging through his journal. “Guess so. Someone had to break the ice and go fucking crazy first. We are professional athletes, so Sarah was the obvious victim…”
Ignoring us, Sarah grabbed a stick and began drawing in the sand. I watched her focus as if she was busy designing something that would take over the world. “Are you planning an off–island escape down there?“I called over, but she ignored me and wiped the sweat from her brow before sitting back to tie up her hair and take a breath.
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