Killian managed to round up everyone for dinner with a loud and boisterous cheer, but I can tell something's wrong when August sits at a table away from the rest of us, face practically buried in his food.
(So Killian's acting wild, Graham's talking a million miles an hour, and Neal want's everyone to open up and be his friend. … Which means happy, social August turns into a recluse? That's not good.)
"Hey, August. Do you want to come over and sit with us? I can get the other guys to quiet down a bit." I ask.
"… No."
"What's going on? You feeling okay?"
August shakes his head before pointedly looking away from me, using the lid of his can to slowly mash his food into even more unrecognizable mush. I wait a minute longer, hoping he'll decide to say something else, but the cold shoulder never drops.
(I'd understand if he looked tired, but it's more like August is being … shy. And if it's the same thing affecting him that's making the other guys act weird, we're four for six. Unless I'm behaving differently too. Would I know?)
"Oh, that's super creepy. What if I don't even know I'm sick?" I say to myself.
"Emma, you're fine."
I turn around to see Regina standing behind me, a light twinkle in her eyes, and when I smile at her, she smiles back without reservation.
"I really hope so." I say.
"I've been keeping an eye on you too. You don't have to worry." She replies.
"Is that the only reason you're keeping an eye on me?"
"… I didn't say that."
Her smile widens a few centimeters, and I stifle a soft laugh. Having something positive to latch onto makes the rest of this a bit less stressful.
"Do you think we should go back out to the lake and try for the fish?" I ask.
"It's late. I doubt we'll be able to see more than a few feet in front of us, much less in the water. But there's dozens of cans in storage here. I doubt they're all vegetables."
"I'll help you look."
Not all of the cans even have labels, but I sit down next to Regina and start sorting through the stack we have in the corner, setting all the bean, vegetable, and fruit ones to the side. It's quiet except for the clink of metal until I hear footsteps come up behind us.
"Still peckish after dinner? You two must have worked up an appetite on the beach." Says Graham.
"Um." I hum.
"But there's nothing wrong with that. It's amazing how many varieties we have here isn't it? Perhaps we could reorganize them into the best combinations and set them side by side for new meals? But taste buds vary, of course. I could survey everyone and find out what they like best, and then prioritize the cans by flavors, in order to …"
"We actually just looking for some meat in here, Graham." I interrupt him.
"Don't bother, Emma. His filter was turned off hours ago." Says Regina.
"Meat? Oh, we could do so many things with meat. Or perhaps we should let Killian go hunt down that bear for something fresh. I could help put the fire together …"
Even if he can't stop talking, Graham isn't in any danger just standing there, so I tune him out as Regina and I keep going through the stacks. I'm about to give up when I spy a can of tuna and reach for it. Regina's fingers brush right over mine to grab it, but she hesitates when our hands meet, palm cupped against my knuckles. A blush rushes up to my cheeks when her thumb makes a purposeful circle over my skin, enough to make me jolt before she grabs the can.
"Jackpot." She says.
I can feel myself turning bright red, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. It's not fair that she can touch me like that and then act like nothing happened!
"Could you see if there's any more of these?" She inquires.
"Yeah, of course." I reply.
(She's such a tease.)
Regina manages to scrounge a sealed box of crackers out of another cabinet and cracks open the tuna cans, passing it all to the guys to eat. August tries to shy away, but a glare leveled his way makes him shove three crackers at once right into his mouth.
"Any idea how long it might take to work?" I ask.
"I'm not even sure that it will work. The only way to tell is time." She answers.
It's kind of a boring watch hanging out on one end of the table, especially with Graham reciting the scientific names of every fish he knows, but I keep an eye out in the hopes that any of them start looking better. After an hour, Regina's patience is getting frayed.
"Alright. Killian, stop pretending that you're Hercules. Graham, we're going to play a new game where you go find a pencil, and write all these names down instead of saying them out loud. And Neal, I'm sure your grandfather loved you very much. We're all pinnacles of mental stability here. August, I'd be happy you were quiet if you weren't clearly sick. So it's time for everyone to go to bed." Declare regina.
"I'm not sick, I just …" He tries to reply.
"Bed. Or just go to your rooms and close the door. Either way is fine." She instructs.
"I don't think she's kidding around, boys. … Can I take the crackers with me?" Speaks Killian.
"Yes. Just go." She answers.
Killian snatches the box before Neal can grab another cracker and gets a grumble protest, but the rest of the guys follow suit without much prompting. Once the clatter of footsteps and Hope's whirring fade away, I let out a laugh.
"You don't mess around, do you?" I ask.
"Part of being a doctor is making people do what's best for them. Some patients take more convincing than others."
"What about me?"
"Why don't you come here and find out?"
(That's an invitation I won't refuse.)
I squeeze into the chair next to her, scooting it over so we're elbow-to-elbow, and Regina's mouth quirks in amusement.
"See, you're easy." She states.
"Oh my god. You walked me right into that."
"Sorry, not sorry."
"You just wanted to get me alone again."
"It's a lot easier to talk when Graham isn't reciting the encyclopedia right next to us."
She's not wrong, but I'm happy to be alone for more than one reason. I lean forward slowly, giving Regina a chance to pull away if she's not interested, but her lips meet mine with a subtle tilt of her head. The kiss is brief but sweet, sending a pleasant tingle all the way down in my spine.
"So, where do we start?" I ask.
"This almost seems like an impromptu date. A terrible one in an empty resort."
"At least it's not in the middle of the jungle."
"True. Context matters. And I'm not sure. I told you my hobbies."
"Painting and kickboxing. Which is a great combo, by the way." I say.
"But how about you?" She inquires.
"Um, writing and traveling, I guess. Which is why I jumped on this assignment. And my job in general. It's not easy getting paid to put words on a page."
"The upside of endless hours and debt in medical school is that they do tend to hire you after it. Did you always plan to be a journalist?"
"I'm seeing where it takes me. That's the fun part, you know? And I usually try to put a positive spin on my articles to make people's days a bit better."
(Sometimes that means posting an endless spam of kittens after the fact, but I do what I have to.)
It's nice to just sit and talk with Regina, even if it's just exchanging little tidbits back and forth. For the first time since the crash, I feel like a normal person, more settled in my own skin. At least until I yawn.
"Tired?" She asks.
"I guess we got caught up for a while down here."
"Then let's get you to bed too."