IV.
She was standing on the beach near the camp and looking out at the ocean. A pale hand was raised to shield her eyes from the harsh sun as she scanned the horizon for any sign of the boat. It's not like she was worried, really. She knew he was fully capable of doing what he set out to do. She was more anxious than anything, wishing to see the small speck of white and blue just to calm her racing pulse. That was it. Really.
"Where is he?"
She wasn't particularly fond of Miles. There was no logical explanation for it, she just thought he was too short with everyone for no real reason. They were all stuck on the same strange island.
"Who?"
She wasn't necessarily playing dumb. There were a bunch of other guys on the island and Miles could have been referring to any one of them... but of course, he wasn't.
"You know who. Is he off trying to save the day with his crazy ideas? The guy's insane, and not in a good way."
Charlotte had recently become defensive of Dan when she figured that he wouldn't stand up for himself. They'd all laugh at him back on the freighter after he'd leave the room and she couldn't believe it. These were grown men and women that had nothing better to do than belittle a colleague, an incredibly smart and capable colleague nonetheless.
"Actually he is. If he does end up saving your sorry ass then maybe you'll stop calling him crazy."
Miles thought about it for a second before laughing out loud and turning away, obviously heading back into the jungle to get some shade.
"Well I don't have to worry about because he's not going to... he screws everything up."
That was the last straw for Charlotte. She took several angry steps over to where Miles stood on the edge of the jungle, his backpack in hand. She towered over him, her eyes boring holes into him.
"We've been on this island for three weeks now and what have you done to help get us back home? Absolutely nothing. You're a complete and utter failure Miles. You truly are. But I guess the reason why you don't want to go home is because you've got nothing back there. Oi, you'll go back to talking to dead people I reckon. I can see why you're not anxious to get off this rock. Huh. Well, carry on then and I'll be sure to tell Daniel when he comes back not to save you a seat."
She turned around and stormed off along the beach, still watching among the broken waves for any sign of the small boat.
It wasn't his fault he doesn't remember, she thought. It was quite a few years ago... No, she thought more sternly, he should remember. She gave him as many hints as possible and yet nothing seemed to click. Was she really that forgettable? She didn't think so.
She met him at a university function several years back, was introduced by one of her colleagues. They sat together for dinner, joked about the attire of the guest speaker, and then wound up getting coffee together afterwards. They clicked well, or so she thought. She really hoped he'd see her again but after that she never rant into him around campus. And it wasn't just because they were in two clearly distinct departments. He spent all his time in the lab, bending the laws of space and time. She found it all rather interesting, well, that what he had discussed that one night. Every time she went down the corridor leading to his classroom there would be a sign on the door written in a hurried manner stating that he was at a meeting and would return at a later date. These 'later dates' only turned into more of the same excuses until finally... he was thrown out of Oxford. She never knew why. She never asked and he never told her. Some things were best forgotten... well, in his case, she thought, perhaps that wasn't exactly true. He needed to remember. Not everything, of course, but most things.
He failed to recognize her when he boarded the freighter, much to her dismay. She could see it in his eyes though sometimes when they talked or 'played cards' that he knew. He knew there was a past, although brief, between them. He just couldn't exactly remember.
What hurt her more, she supposed, was that this new 'past' they were still creating would be forgotten just as quickly.