Chapter Nine:

When I woke up again, I was laying in the forest. Trees had been snapped in half by the force of the winds and palm fronds were everywhere. My head hurt! I tried to lift myself up, but I couldn't. It was too much work and I was too weak. I fell back on the ground, my head cushioned by a large pile of leaves.

"Ginny!" someone screamed at the top of their lungs. I knew that scream. I forced myself up on my elbows in time to feel two strong arms surround me in a hug. I wrapped my arms around his neck, returning the hug graciously. "Oh my God! I thought I lost you and you fainted when I swam out to you in the water and you screamed right in my ear but I kept swimming because I just love you that much and I was begging you not to die on me because I would die if you died and I can't stop talking. Oh my God, Ginny! Oh my God!" He was crying. I remembered feeling awful for making him cry before…Wait…He had saved me…Not Mike.

I looked up into his face, some shock in my eyes. His own eyes were hypnotizing. It was like once you got into them, you had to find a freaking information kiosk to get out again. My mind flashed back to the first time we kissed. He said that's how he decided to tell me that he loved me. I leaned up and kissed Micky squarely on the lips. He immediately kissed back, stroking my messy, red hair and curling it around his fingers. I moved my hands down to his arms and hovered there. For a skinny guy, he felt pretty strong. When we pulled apart I stared at him, a watery smile on my lips.

"That's how I decided to say it," I whispered, my eyes tearing up slightly. Micky looked confused, but then realized what I meant. His face brightened and he leaned back down again for another kiss.

(-)(-)(-)

"Stupid storm," Davy muttered under his breath as he picked up a scrap of driftwood. "Coming right at the wrong time like that. What does it think it is?"

"Planning on knocking its block off, Davy?" Mike sneered as he wrapped a vine around a corner, making a section of the wall facing the ocean water-tight. Davy paused for a moment, his fists clenching and unclenching around the board, but he soon calmed down a bit and brought the supply over to the shelter.

"At least I don't steal other guys' girls," he growled. "Especially when that guy is a friend." I rolled my eyes. Ever since we had started rebuilding, Mike and Davy were going at it like a bickering set of old ladies.

"I didn't steal your girl, shorty," Mike mumbled. "You stole her from Micky. Micky broke up with her. She was technically single because she was not rightfully yours." Davy's eyes flamed up for a moment, but it died back down to a contained house-fire. He turned away from Mike and walked down the beach.

"You okay?" I asked as he bent down next to me to pick up some driftwood. Davy was silent for a second. Then, he looked up at me with big Bambi eyes like Peter sometimes did. Only Davy's Bambi eyes weren't played nearly as well and ended up looking faked.

"He called me 'shorty,'" he whined. "Mike doesn't do that…ever." I knew that Davy was incredibly sensitive about his height. After all, I was exactly as tall as he was. However, I was a girl and shortness was accepted. I patted Davy on the shoulder and gave his a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Don't worry about that too much," I smiled. "Mike's just having a bad day. We all are. After that storm, it wouldn't surprise me if Mike snapped at poor Peter. I have a feeling he's going to have the worst day of us all. Davy, would you look after him for me…Just for today?" Davy gave me a hug before scooping up the wood and trotting back over to the shelter. I knew he'd make sure Peter was okay all throughout the day. And it would give him something to think about besides Mike insulting him and yelling at everyone.

"Hey, Geneva," Mike called, "help bring over the wood." Mike had stopped calling me "Ginny" because he was mad at me. I rolled my eyes and lugged another load of driftwood over to him.

"Look, Mike," I sighed as I plopped the wood by his feet. "I still love you. We need to talk." Mike didn't avert his glance from the wall.

"What's there to talk about," he scowled coldly. I put my hand on his shoulder and his whole back tensed and released.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," I whispered. "I didn't mean for it to go that far." Mike was silent. "I don't know what came over me. Being stranded with four boys went to my head I guess." No reaction. "Mike, please talk to me. I want to get this straightened out!" Mike whirled around and looked at me, his eyes slowly watering.

"If you really were sorry," he said, biting his lip, "why did you kiss Micky earlier today?" My mind suddenly went back in time, remembering the moment.

Oh God! Micky's kisses felt so good! When I was with him, I felt like nothing mattered anymore, like as long as we were together, the world could explode and I'd be perfectly okay. He was adorably awkward yet humorously handsome. The next thing I knew, fingers were snapping in front of my face.

"Huh?" I blinked obliviously.

"You're not even listening anymore!" Mike exclaimed. "I don't even have your attention, let alone your love!" There was a long pause as Mike just stared at me. Finally, he said something totally unexpected. "It's all Micky's fault that you aren't mine now."

"What?!" I shouted. "How can you say it's Micky's fault?!"

"What's my fault?" Micky asked good-naturedly. Mike turned to him and the argument began.

"You're the problem on this island," Mike sneered. Micky looked confused.

"Whaddya mean, Mike?"

"If you hadn't been with Geneva, Davy wouldn't have seduced her into cheating on you, you would never have found out and broken up with her, and I wouldn't have been dating a girl who was cheating on me in the first place!" Mike shouted.

"What are you talking about?" Davy asked incredulously, having heard the whole conversation. "I would have asked Ginny out even faster if Micky hadn't before me."

Utter confusion broke out on the beach. Everyone was yelling at once. Micky was saying something about how none of this was his fault. Davy was groaning that all this arguing was pathetic and a waste of time. Mike was arguing with Micky that if he loved me so much, he would have let me move on instead of trying to steal me back incessantly. Peter was trying to break up the fight by saying things like "Arguing will get you nowhere," "Stop before you say something you're going to regret," and "Can't we all just get along?"

The noise was deafening. I held my hands over my ears. I thought of that long thought process I had gone through about who I would want to end up with. Mike needed me the most. He got into horrible moods when I wasn't with him. What if he killed someone or himself because of me? I pressed my hands closer to my ears and squeezed my eyes shut as the noise increased. Finally, my mind blanked.

"SHUT UP!" I shouted. "WHY ARE YOU GUYS FIGHTING OVER THIS STUPID THING? I PICK MICKY!" As soon as those words left my mouth, my eyes shot open and my mouth hung there like a dead man. I quickly covered my mouth with my hand, emitting a small squeal. All four boys stopped and stared at me. I could tell they weren't expecting my answer either.

"Y-You do?" Micky stuttered. I couldn't say anything. I was too shocked at my own decision. My head nodded of its own accord. Micky ran over to me, hugging me to him and kissing me softly on the lips. "I love you, Geneva Robinson!" he exclaimed, squeezing me tighter. I could hardly help but smile. Maybe my Freudian slip didn't do me too much harm…

"Didn't see that coming," Peter shrugged.

"Really?" Davy asked.

"I could've sworn she was going to pick Mike," Peter revealed.

"Come to think of it, I would've guessed that too," Davy admitted. Mike looked at me with hurt in his eyes. I managed to pull away from Micky and walked over to him.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I hope we can still be friends." I extended my hand for Mike to shake. He took it and quietly kissed the back of my hand before smiling weakly and walking into the shelter to continue his work.

(-)(-)(-)

Pitch black night surrounded the five of us as we sat around the warm light of the campfire. Davy, Peter, and Mike each had a log all to themselves while I sat on Micky's lap on the fourth log. The shelter had been completely fixed earlier that day. Mike claimed that no water could possibly get through the walls now.

"Laugh, cuz the music is funny. And the bass sounds offbeat…Ain't that neat?" Davy sang as we patted out percussion riffs on the logs and on our knees. "Laugh, when you lose all your money and you can't find your shoes to cover your feet!" Peter cut in.

"It's not so hard to see exactly what I'm after," he sang. I could not have smiled bigger. My troubles were over! I finally had picked my one boy. I would never cheat on him again as long as I lived. I wouldn't get in trouble. I was so happy I could have burst. When Peter finished his verse, Mike cut in.

"Laugh, when you're keeping a secret and it seems to be known by the rest of the world. Laugh, when you go to a party and you can't tell the boys from the girls," he sang as his Texas accent twanged.

The fire crackled appreciatively as I fed it a dry branch. The warmth batted me in the face and made me settle into Micky's lap even more comfortably than before. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he didn't even seem to notice, his chin resting on my shoulder while his breathing rubbed against my neck. Suddenly, there was only the sound of the fire popping. Mike had stopped singing.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly. Mike didn't say anything. He stared off into space, out at the ocean. His eyes squinted as he tried to make out some kind of shape. Finally, his mouth fell open and he wore an astonished expression on his face.

"It…It's a ship," he whispered. I had totally forgotten that ships meant rescue. I had also lost track of how long I'd been on the island. Days had simply melted into months.

Mike leapt up and began building up the fire as high as he possibly could. Davy, Micky, and Peter all called for help from the shoreline as I helped Mike pile dry wood into the fire. The blaze was hotter and hotter each second. I was sweating like I had been trapped in a desert for seven years under the scorching sun and so was Mike.

"IT'S COMING!" Micky exclaimed as he ran back to us. "WE'RE SAVED!"

(-)(-)(-)

The captain of the ship that saved us wore all white: white coat, white slacks, white hat, white shoes, white socks, white tie, white shirt, white vest. Absolutely everything about the man was white right down to the color of his bushy hair and mustache. His smiling eyes held a concern in them as he beheld me in my two-inches-from-revealing-my-hindquarters nightdress and the boys' tattered and ragged clothes.

"I can't believe it," he muttered. "Lost for a year and a half and still alive. Everyone thought they were dead." Micky put his arm around me and grinned at the captain.

"Can we go home now?" Peter asked. "It's not that I don't appreciate the island for being here, it's just that I want to tell my family that I'm okay. They'll be worried sick."

"Absolutely, Mr. Tork," the captain smiled graciously. "My vessel is your vessel."

"Really? Groovy!" Micky exclaimed. "Does that mean I can drive?"

"NO!" everyone shouted at the same time. The captain laughed nervously.

"You must be very tired," he said. "Why don't you leave the navigating to me and clean yourselves up. I'm sure we can find some new clothes for you to change into and you're welcome to take a shower in my cabin's bathroom."

I was surprised that after that cruise ship sank I was brave enough to walk up that gangplank. But, I suppose after a year and a half on a small island, one is likely to go insane. After all, plenty of crazy stuff happened there…