Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies, that belongs to William Golding.
Very Important A/N: If you have not read my chapter story Off the Island do not read this story! This is a sequel-one shot of the missing chapter I never published. Thanks!
JACK'S POV
I hated formal clothes. I hated button up shirts that itched, shiny shoes that were two sizes too small, and most of all I hated ties. Unfortunately, I must admit that when Simon adjusted my tie for me backstage, I didn't hate ties as much, but I was still uncomfortable.
"Si, I really, really, really don't want to do this," I said, peering around the curtain at the chipper talk show host. The audience laughed at something she said, but I didn't hear it. Not that I cared. Simon glanced up at me, looking extremely odd with mascara and blush on. The stage crew had insisted we all wore make up to be seen under the stage lights, and I couldn't even imagine how ridiculous I must have looked.
"Sweetie, its fine. We've survived worse," he said with a lipstick- smile. I rolled my eyes.
"I'd take fish-eyes over this any day," I said. Simon opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the audience clapping. On the other side of the stage I saw the black-clad crew guys usher our schoolmates onstage, first Ralph, Piggy, Roger, and then all the liluns. I turned to the guy behind me who was on a ladder, adjusting the lights.
"Excuse me, should we go on?" I asked. The crew guy squinted and jumped down.
"Are you the two boys who were exiled or something?" he asked. Simon and I nodded. "Then no. Susan said she would talk to you two separately," said the man as he made his way back up the ladder. We watched silently as Susan asked the boys all about what it was like to survive in the ocean, which was described overdramatically. After that Susan asked Ralph all about what it was like to be a leader, and she made him out to be some kind of hero. Simon clenched his fists but I put my hand on his shoulder and he relaxed a little. Nerves were starting to get the best of me as Susan wrapped up the interview, telling the audience all about the choppers that searched for a week until finding first the boys then "the exiles". And with that she-
"Now, I would like to introduce Simon Chesler and Jack Merridew!" Someone pushed Simon and I onstage as the other boys, except for Ralph, made their way off. I turned and saw the clapping audience looking at us expectantly as we sat down side by side on the overstuffed couch. Cameras swiveled back and forth at the foot of the stage and I tried not to watch the monitor that mirrored everything that was going on. Susan Kettles smiled a botox smile and Simon gave her a customary hug.
"Hello you two and welcome to the show," she said "We are glad you could make it after being in the hospital for so long. Jack, I see you are still walking with a limp?"
"Uh, yeah," I replied "the doctor says I'm probably going to have a limp my whole life." Unfortunately, that was true, and I would never get to play football again. It wasn't like I had planned on going into football as a career, but I still wished I could at least continue playing it in high school. Susan nodded with a frown.
"I see. So, tell me, what was going through your mind when you found out that Ralph exiled you both?" Susan asked. Simon and I shared a look.
"Well…. I wasn't happy, I can tell you that," said Simon with a coy smile. The audience laughed a little, causing Simon to blush.
"It was pretty scary, because I wasn't sure what waited for us out in there. Plus, for all I knew, the group could get rescued the next day and the choppers would never find us," Simon shrugged. Susan nodded like a bobble head, her eyes scrutinizing.
"Uh huh…. So, Ralph, what was your reason for exiling Jack and Simon?" asked Susan. My mouth went dry and Simon's eyes widened. Oh god, oh god, this is it…. I thought, my heart pounding so loudly, I was surprised it wasn't picked up by the mic on my shirt. I knew this question would be coming, but part of me pretended like Susan would forget to ask it. I had become very good at denial.
Simon locked eyes with Ralph briefly, and I was shocked to see a look of understanding come to his face. A quick, but silent decision had been made between the two of them, so subtle that I wondered if I had only imagined it. Ralph licked his lips nervously and peered up at Susan.
"I guess it was because…. We had a, um, misunderstanding you could say," Ralph said. Susan didn't even miss a beat.
"What was this misunderstanding about?" she asked. Ralph shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glanced at Simon, and paused. There was a slight silence, but not long enough for Susan to prompt again. Ralph's eyes traveled to the floor.
"Jack wanted to be chief, uh leader, that's all," said Ralph quickly. Susan opened her mouth, but Ralph went on.
"It was stupid, really, just a silly fight. I was, uh, jealous of Jack…. It's hard to explain. Um…. I feel-" Ralph stopped suddenly, his voice cracking. I watched as he looked up at last and saw that his eyes were sparkling with tears. I gasped audibly, to which Susan responded with a head nod of supposed understanding in my direction. Under normal circumstances I would have responded with a glare, but the sight of Ralph's tears made my head spin too much to muster anything other than a dropped jaw. Ralph swallowed hard.
"I- I feel horrible…." he said, his voice shaking "I never should have done that, if I hadn't maybe Jack wouldn't have had the shark attack, or-or…." Tears rolled down Ralph's red cheeks, trailing mascara in black lines. Quietly, Ralph covered his face in his hands. Susan looked straight into the camera.
"We'll be right back," she said.
SIMON'S POV
If my mum answers, text me so I can save you from the round of questions. The cat will try to get out, if he succeeds no big deal. Use the front door not the back. It's not rocket science, I promise.
Jack's words echoed through my mind as I shakily approached the door, my breath making foggy clouds in front of me. I zipped up my jacket with one hand as I reached to the doorbell with the other. The bell made one of those buzzing noises, and I was about to go through my mental checklist again, but Jack opened up the door. He already had his shoes on and was pulling on a jacket quickly.
"Bye Mum, be home soon, love you!" he shouted over his shoulder hastily. A black cat was peering around his leg to get a peek outside, but Jack pushed it away in an automatic motion and shut the screen. After firmly shutting the big wood door behind him, Jack turned and gave me a bright smile.
"Did anyone ever tell you your ears turn bright red in the cold?" he chuckled "It's cute." I smiled shyly and looked down. It seemed like only yesterday Jack was begrudgingly admitting his love for me on the raft, and now he almost always greeted me with a compliment.
"So, where is this 'surprise' you've been mentioning all week?" I asked, bouncing on my toes to keep warm. Jack smiled.
"Wouldn't you like to know," he teased. That had been his response all week whenever I asked him anything about his "surprise". The whole bit had started with him casually mentioning it in the courtyard during lunch while we were sitting with a few of my friends. I honestly was not a fan of surprises, so at first I pretended not to have heard him, but my friends Luke and Cameron found it to be a perfect opportunity to tease me. They developed a round of questions to ask Jack, to ask me, and sometimes to ask the general public, all regarding the possibilities of what my alleged surprise was. Jack soon caught onto my embarrassment and joined in on the harassment.
"It's a bloody far walk," Jack droned sarcastically. I watched suspiciously as he jumped off the porch onto the hard-packed snow and walked four feet to the garage. He turned and smiled demurely.
"Wow, whatever this is it has to be good, because I've never seen you so giddy in my life," I mumbled, rubbing my hands together. Jack rolled his eyes but still smiled. As I made my way over to the garage, he fiddled with the keypad next to the door, sighing in instant annoyance as he had to re-type the password. A few moments later, the garage started to rise. Jack took my hand and pulled me foreword, standing behind me so he could cover my eyes. I closed my eyes beneath his hands, oddly aware of my eyelashes hitting against the inside of his palm. The door whirred loudly. Once the noise stopped, Jack nudged me and I began to shuffle foreword slowly.
"I better not slip on the ice," I muttered more to myself than Jack.
"You're fine," he replied "I'll take care of you." Once again, a red blush appeared on my face, making my cheeks almost scarlet with the mixture of cold and embarrassment.
"Okay, on the count of three you can open your eyes," instructed Jack.
"Count of three? Now where have I heard that before?" I giggled, thinking back to our little episode involving fish eyes on the raft. The very memory of the event made my throat tense up with a gag, but I swallowed it back with a smile.
"One."
"Two."
"Three!" And with that, Jack pulled his hands away from my face and my eyes popped open. Heart pounding, it took me a second to recognize what stood before me.
A rickety, dusty easel, looking just like the ones we used in art club, proudly stood in the middle of the garage. Beneath it was a pile of towels, all coated with splatters of dried paint, and a butter tub filled with brown water and three different paint brushes. The whole set up looked out of place in Jack's musty garage, but the part that stood out the most was the child-like painting resting on the easel.
Jack told me not too long ago that he wasn't the best artist in the world. But in that moment I could have cared less. It was a simple painting, but somehow I found tears welling up in my eyes.
Three layers of blue stripes were painted across the top, going from darkest to lightest just like the sky after sunset. Little specks of white and yellow dotted along it, reminding me of a string of sequins going along scarf that my mother wore. A reflection of the same colors of blue followed the stripe, only these were a wavy pattern that wasn't exactly subtle but like the kind a little kid uses to draw water.
In the midst of all of this was a dark orange blot, sitting beneath a huge white moon. On the blot were two shadows. One was tall with shaggy hair, and the other thin and wispy.
"Well? What do you think?" came Jack's nervous voice, snapping me out of my trance. I turned to face him, warm tears running down my rosy cheeks, and I saw Jack's face turn to one of pure horror.
"S-Simon, I'm so sorry! I didn't want you to-" Whatever stupid thing Jack was going to say got cut off as I reached up on my very tip toes and closed the gap between our lips. After a long, dizzying embrace, I pulled back smiling like a loon and rubbing the saltwater off my cheeks.
"I love it. I love you. Thank you- thanks so much," I whispered, my eyes wandering back to the beautiful painting Jack had created for me.
And this is the end of my story. Or, at least the end of what I'm going to tell today. From this point on, I don't know what kind of future Jack and I are going to have, although I would have to say, I think it's a bright one.
It's crazy to think about it, how easy it is to fall into danger, or maybe how much easier it is to fall in love. Crazy, stupid, love.
Author's Note: I would like to say a big I'M SORRY to everyone who read Off the Island and expected there to be another chapter, and then there wasn't. What happened was I wrote the first part of this little one shot you've read here and then I lost all inspiration in a horrible flash of writers block. I would also like to apologize for completely disappearing off the face of the planet in the beginning of the school year, although I would like to warn you that may happen again very soon as I look into college courses. Yay. But for now, I am back my lovelies, and have a few ideas floating around for fanfic. This is, the final, final chapter of Off the Island but I've been playing with one shot ideas for Simon/Jack or Simon/Ralph or Jack/Ralph or…. Yeah anyone but Piggy. Wow, this A/N is long. Thanks, review for cookies!