Days on the Island: 3, 3PM
You'd think I'd learn my lesson after 27 years. You'd think I'd know to keep my mouth shut and my nose out of thing. But, no, I still find myself blurting out whatever pops into my head, butting into other people's business, and making a general nuisance of myself. That's what the past four years being nosy for a living will get you.
Though, you have to admit…on a deserted island what else are you going to do? I mean, when you're not running from invisible monsters.
Jack had stopped back to check on Shrapnel Man and raised an amused eyebrow at me as he entered the little tent. Unloading some of the stuff he had found, he looked over at me and shook his head.
"Every time I see you, you've got your nose in that book." He threw me some water, which I deftly caught (Thank you, High School Softball).
"I like books," I replied with an impish smile before taking a drink.
"Is that what you do? Writing?" Jack asked, drinking some water.
"Yup, journalist, guilty as charged. I write for New York magazine….and I wrote a novel." I could feel my face flush. Why the hell had I mentioned my novel?
"Anything I would have read?"
"Not unless you shop in the bargain bin. Huge flop. Now, my editor forgets my name and my publisher doesn't return my calls," I joked, rolling my eyes.
Jack smiled sympathetically (He better start having some serious flaws, 'cause I don't know if I can be friends with someone this…nice) and glanced at Shrapnel Man. "How he is?"
"He's unconscious, right?" I asked before I answered.
"Yeah." Jack gave me a confused look.
"He's starting to smell….and sometimes he moans and swears. It's kinda like watching 'Sopranos' drunk." I shrugged.
Jack grinned and shook his head digging in his backpack. "What are you writing in there anyway?" He tried to glance at the pages of my journal, but I covered them up.
"I'm recording our valiant days of survival for posterity," I said, with mock seriousness.
Jack smiled again.
"Recording all our secrets, you mean."
I pretended to look offended. "Why, Jack, I'm shocked you would suggest such a thing." I studied him for a moment as he checked on Shrapnel Man.
"Besides," I said nonchalantly. "It's not like you have anything to hide, right? I mean, I haven't even asked you what's going on between you and Kate."
Jack smile faded and he paused for the briefest moment. I knew I had said too much. Damn it, why can't I just keep my mouth closed!
By the time he looked back up at me he was smiling and the humor was back in his eyes. "I'm going to check the fuselage for supplies," he said, in that tone that said 'You're crazy and I can't believe I put up with you,' that he used with Hurley and myself. I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Good, he didn't hate me. I gave him an apologetic smile.
"Keep an eye on this stuff. Sayid said Sawyer's been around scavenging anything he can find."
I rolled my eyes at the mention of Sawyer. "Do I have permission to kill him?" I asked in my best 'oh so innocent' voice.
Jack smiled and gathered his things. "Try not to."
"Badly maim then." I nodded seriously. "Gotcha."
Jack just shook his head and waved goodbye over his shoulder.
"Have fun with the dead bodies," I called as he left the tent.
God, I've really got to find out what's going on with him and Kate. Where the hell is Hurley? I can already tell he can't keep his mouth closed about anything.