Chapter 19 – Day 1 on Craphole Island

She opened her eyes, suddenly remembering that she was stuck on a friggin' island, and had just been in a plane crash. A plane crash!

"Boone," she whimpered, "We'll get rescued today, right?"

"I don't know," he said, stroking her hair lovingly. "I hope so."

She stretched out her toes and looked down at them. "Shit, my manicure's already screwed up!"

He pulled her closer. "Uh oh," he whispered playfully, dawdling with her fingers. She opened her mouth to snap some nasty comment at him, but didn't have enough energy, and the fact that she had just woken up was making her soft, so she buried her head into his chest, surprisingly giddy for someone who had slept on the ground, just been in a plane wreck, and had ruined her manicure. She rolled away from him, noticing that people were looking at them strangely.

"People are waking up, we probably should…" she said, standing up. "Hey, think about this: we're probably going to be in our nice warm beds tonight, and everything will be back! I don't know if my hair can stand this island much longer!" She smiled, but noticed that he wasn't smiling back. Maybe her comment had hit too close to home. To disguise the awkwardness, she smirked and said, "You've got sand all over your hair – it looks like discolored dandruff," and stalked off to dramatize the situation. Realizing that she didn't really have a place to stalk to, she went back to Boone and stood there rather pathetically.

"What?" he asked, surprisingly cold for someone who had been holding her and whispering in her ear minutes before.

"I dunno," she said, and followed him as he walked up the beach towards some other people. She felt pathetic following him around, that was his job. The little hobbit guy was standing next to her, and he looked at her. Oh god, he so was not checking her out!

"What?" she said, rolling her eyes. He didn't answer her, but then Boone was standing on the other side of her.

"Shan, you cold?" He asked her, draping an airline blanket over her shoulders. If Shannon wasn't so trained in the art of bitch, she would have cooed to him about how sweet he was.

But she was, so she just muttered, "Yeah," as he walked away.

"You and your boyfriend having a row?" Asked the guy in a British lilt.

"We're not going out," she answered carefully. "And no, we're not having a row," she said, making fun of his word choice.

"Oh, because I saw you guys this morning, and you looked pretty…" he smiled, "Close."

"He's my brother," she snapped, and instantly regretted the fact that now they couldn't pretend to be a couple. "Gross!"

She trudged away from him as he said, "I'm Charlie, by the way!" She looked into the mirror of her compact, washed off her old makeup and applied some more.

A few hours later, Shannon was lying in the sand near the pregnant girl, showing off her nearly skeletal figure in a salmon-colored bikini. Boone's favorite. Well, the least this dumb island could do for her was give her a good tan. She sensed him approaching, sensed him subtly checking her out. Even though her eyes were closed, she could tell where he was looking, and now he was right on target. Perfect. He was saying something, but she was only half paying attention.

"Hey we're going through some clothes, sorting them. I see you've found your bag," he continued icily. She didn't respond. What was the point, it would just distract him from staring up and down her legs, which was obviously what he wanted to be doing. Or so she thought. "How about coming and giving a hand?" He said unsubtly. Why would she want to give a hand? They were going to be safely at home by tonight, tomorrow tops. And what would they even do with the clothes?

"Not really." He paused, sighing. She squinted at him, and saw that he was biting his lip in concern. "You're wasting your time. They're coming." Yeah, like maybe if she said it nastily enough, it would come true. He looked at her one more second, and then started walking away.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Asked the pregnant girl, who was tiny and blonde, with an Australian accent. Okay, what was with all these little blondes on this island? But there was something about this girl that seemed sweet – generally this was something that annoyed Shannon half to death, but she had some sort of characteristic that Shannon couldn't explain that made her want to answer her question. But why did everyone always ask if he was her boyfriend?

Without saying yes or no, Shannon answered, "My brother. Boone. God's Friggin' Gift to Humanity." The girl smiled.

"I used to have a stomach," she said, looking enviously at Shannon. Shannon and Anna had decided when they were young that if they ever had kids, they would adopt so their bodies wouldn't change. Anna had added that she didn't know if she could not have sex for that long while she was pregnant, and they had burst into a fit of hysterical giggles. Then Boone had come downstairs and Anna had started making out with him. Fit of hysterical giggles thus aborted. Looked like this girl still had a stomach, big time. Claire started taking off one of her shirts, stretching.

Shannon suddenly felt very exposed to the air now that Boone was gone, so she turned onto her stomach and asked the girl, "Do you know what it is?" Duh, idiot, it's a kid.

"Not yet." She sighed. "I haven't felt the baby move since yesterday." Shannon stretched out further.

"Is that bad?" Asked Shannon ignorantly.

"Well, I don't know. Usually I feel him or her move a few times a day."

"So do you think something bad happened to it during the crash?"

"I don't know, I mean, the crash was pretty… rough. So something could have happened to damage him or her." The girl looked at the ocean. "There was a doctor, on the plane. Maybe I'll ask him about it later." Shannon nodded slightly. Boone was a lifeguard for a summer once, to impress people probably, but all it did was make people think he was gayer than they had already thought he was. He seemed to think it made him like, a friggin' doctor. And Boone's CPR was a hell of a lot worse than his kissing. "I'm Claire, by the way," she said.

"Shannon." Shannon remembered that the first girl who Boone had kissed was named Claire. Shannon had opened her window one night and looked downstairs and seen them. It was an awkward, first kiss type of kiss, and Shannon was sure to make fun of him went he came in. Then, out of jealousy, she had pretended to have a nightmare so he would let her sleep in his bed. The next day, he broke up with… Claire. Shannon noticed that this Claire was much prettier than Boone's Claire.

"I had an Aunt named Shannon," said Claire. "She died from heart disease a few years ago."

"I'm sorry," said Shannon. "My father died a few years ago."

"Sorry," said Claire a little uncomfortably.

"It's okay," Shannon said, and she sensed Boone's presence from behind a piece of plane. "What do you want, Boone?"

He came out from behind whatever he was behind. "How'd you know I was there?"

"Were you spying on me, assface?"

"N – no," He stuttered.

"Then what were you doing?"

"I was just wondering if your back was okay," he said. Sure, he just wanted another excuse to touch her.

"It's fine," she said scathingly. "Now go away." Claire looked at them questioningly. Shannon noticed Boone look at her for a second.

"Hi," he said to Claire. "I'm Boone."

"I know, she told me. God's Friggin' Gift to Humanity, right?" She smiled.

"I don't know. She's been calling me that since I was sixteen. I don't know why, even. What's it mean, Shannon?"

"It means you should leave me the hell alone."

"Why are you so mean to me?"

"Why can't you take a hint?"

"Oh my god," he rolled his eyes. "I take it you're okay, then?"

"Yes, I'm fine. You're not my babysitter. Although wouldn't it be naughty if you were?" She flirted. Oops. Crap!

"What the hell does that mean?" He asked her. Claire looked at them again uncomfortably.

"I dunno, just something I heard on TV," she covered up.

"O…kay," he sighed. "See you."

"You an Aries?" Asked Claire as he left.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Asked Shannon, looking at her in surprise.

"Forceful, independent… arrogant."

"Arrogant?" She said arrogantly.

"It's just what some book I read said. Sometimes astrology can be a load of crap, but I think it's interesting. In high school, I was trying to make extra money for college by reading people's palms and doing charts. It didn't work very well," she laughed. "People think its bull."

"Oh," said Shannon slowly. "What else do you know about Aeries?"

"Well, they're outspoken, enthusiastic, very, very independent, and they can think fast - calculative." Claire paused. "Sound like you at all?"

"Yeah, a little," said Shannon.

"Let's see… fear of rejection." That was true for Shannon. "You're a fire sign, and your color is red… said to be impatient and domineering. You ego needs approval from people. You do well with Sagittarians, but you're very… attracted to Scorpios." Shannon swallowed.

"Wow, you know a lot. What are you?"

"Pisces." Said Claire, rubbing her stomach. "I'm getting worried about the baby."

"Huh." Said Shannon, who knew nothing about kids. "So, you're from Australia?"

"Yeah, Sydney. Where are you from?"

"L.A." she answered, "California."

"I can imagine that," said Claire, smiling serenely. "Were you in Sydney on vacation?"

Shannon thought. "Yeah, vacation. With our whole family – obviously, it was hell."

Claire smiled. "I think it would be nice."

"Yeah, well, my brother and my nerdy cousin… Danny playing video games drunk at three in the morning next door is not nice, by any means." Why the hell was she making this stuff up, and where was she getting it?

Claire smiled. "Your brother seems nice."

"Fucking annoying, if you ask me." And fucking hot. "He thinks he's my mother."

Claire laughed. "Let me guess, he's a Scorpio. Scorpios often have penetrating eyes, appear controlled and calm but are actually energetic on the inside. Sensitive."

"He's a Scorpio."

"Scorpio." Said Claire. But Shannon was remembering what Claire had said a minute ago about Aries being attracted to Scorpios.

A few hours later, Shannon was walking by a group of people. There was one young man in the middle of the group, sobbing. She overhead him cry, "I had one first class and one coach seat, and I gave the…" he sobbed again, causing Shannon to become more and more emotionally involved with the man. Tears were contagious, and Shannon was thinking about the fact that she and Boone hadn't gotten onto first class.

"I gave the first class ticket to my mother, and she was killed in the crash!" The man's sobs wove their way into Shannon's heart, and she was suddenly very grateful for that gatekeeper at the airport who had refused to let them onto first class. She had tried to charm him, and when that didn't work, she had yelled at him, screamed at him for many things that weren't at his hands. But it was thanks to him that she was alive. Thanks to him that Boone was alive.

Shannon slid down into the sand, somberly putting her head in her arms. She sat there, tearing just a little bit and staring pensively off into the ocean. A crash. How many people had died? How many people knew people who had died? How many relatives were worried sick about their loved ones who had been on that plane? She could count Sabrina off that list.

Boone started coming up towards her, so she scrunched up her face more and continued to sit there, sniffling and ignoring her presence. He sat down next to her and they stared rather helplessly towards the ocean. "What are you doing?" He said in a voice that was not especially sympathetic.

"I think I was mean to him." She blurted out.

"What?" He said defensively, thinking that she was talking about Brian, presumably.

"To that guy from the gate," she clarified, "He wouldn't let us have our seats. He saved our lives." She broke out into real tears now, and Boone looked at her for a second, shocked. She thought he was going to put his arm around her, comfort her, but was surprised when he started to make a first effort to stand up, annoyed. Did it scare him, what she had said?

"C'mon Shannon." He started out sympathetically. "We're clearing out some of the wreckage, you should help." His tone gradually became more hostile. What the hell was his problem? He stood up and crossed her. "You're just being worthless over here."

What the hell? Worthless? Shannon was many things – bitchy, callous, self-centered… worthless? "I'm being what?" There was something about that word… worthless described a dead leaf on the ground, a candy wrapper in a trashcan. Worthless never described a person, and she knew that wasn't how he really felt. Or was it?

"What do you want me to say? You're sitting on your ass staring at bodies." He said disagreeably, his voice raising. Maybe he was remembering the money thing, and how easily he had let her off. But he was being so fucking mean!

"Hello, I've just been through a major trauma here, okay!" She sputtered, hurt. She always did manage to make it about her, didn't she?

"We've all been through a trauma here," he smirked. "The only difference is that since the crash you've given yourself a pedicure!"

"You know what!" Oh, he was so asking for it. "It is so easy to make fun of me. You're good at it. I get it!" It was true, it was like, the only power he had over her, and she was damn sick of it!

"I wish I didn't have to waste my time making fun of you. I wish I didn't have a reason. And yeah, it is easy, Shannon!" He yelled. People were starting to look. What was with these two, people were probably thinking. They were like, straight from The Young and the Restless.

"Screw you." He gave her a look that quite obviously said, woops, already have. "You don't have the slightest idea of what I am thinking!" She shouted. For example, he didn't have the slightest idea of how much she was in love with him, how much she hated it. How guilty she felt for every little comment she made about him, how much she wished they could start over.

" I have more of an idea than you think I do!"

She interrupted him, screaming hysterically, "No you don't!"

"Okay Shannon," he said, giving her a malevolent glare. "Then what are you thinking?" Her face contorted in distress, and she cried harder. He looked a little guilty now, a little surprised by the tears running down her face. And he had never been able to resist her crying.

Suddenly, Shannon watched as two people, a classically beautiful brunette and some Arab guy, whom she realized was the one who she had turned in at the airport (she hoped he didn't remember) preparing to go somewhere, obviously on a hike. She could prove that little fucker wrong. He didn't know shit about her.

"I'm going with them, on the hike." She smirked determinately.

"Yeah?" He smiled, like he thought she was joking.

"Yep." She said angrily. "I'm going."

"No, you're not." But as he realized that she was serious, he tried to pull her back. "Shannon!" She tore off. "Shannon!" He screamed, like she was going to murder someone. God. He really needed to calm down. She walked in between the brunette girl and the airport guy. They looked pissed.

She felt extremely out of place, but she said anyway, "I'd like to come with you." They stared in disbelief, and Shannon could tell that she was going to seriously clash with this brunette girl. In actuality, Shannon would have much preferred to stay with Claire on the beach, but she also wanted to get away from Boone and prove him wrong, and now, that was more important to her.

But that stupid idiot was close behind. "No, she's not. This is what she does." This is what she does? What did that mean?

"The hell I'm not! You don't know what the hell I do!" Their brother-sister screaming match was on again, and she was going to win.

"She makes really bad decisions to upset her family, which at the moment," he paused. Who the hell was he talking to, he was looking right at her! But Shannon was rather used to that. "Is me!"

"Shut up and stop trying to be charming." She looked back at them, and the Arab guy was scratching his beard in thought, amusement maybe. The brunette girl looked kind of taken aback, on the other hand. "I'm coming with you."

"Um," said the brunette, "I don't know if that's such a good idea." She said this cautiously, like she was afraid of what her reaction would be.

"What are you, like two years older than me?" Okay, maybe four, but still! Suddenly, that stupid little prat of a hobbit was walking up smugly, smiling drunkenly. "You're going, aren't you?"

"Yeah, are you?" He said, taken aback, and staring at her legs, the pervert.

"Yep." She looked away.

"Everybody can come," said the girl toughly. "But we're leaving now." The Arab guy shook his head. Shannon walked in front of Boone and Charlie, who tapped her on the shoulder.

He called to her, "You couldn't tell from that, but she's actually really nice!" Oh god. What had she gotten herself into?