Chapter 19

I sat in the blue light from the bit of tent between me and the magnificent sunset out there. It was getting cool, and we swatted at mosquitoes.

"Sawyer?" I broke the silence for the first time in a long time. I'd just been sitting, staring at nothing in particular, and so had he. Just sitting.

"Yeah, Cammy?"

"You said you and Jack didn't grow up in the same neighbourhood. Tell me about where you grew up?"

He laughed lightly. "Guess."

"Judging by the accent, I'd have to say . . . Alaska."

"Yeah, that's me. Polar bear must've followed me here."

"Polar bear?"

"Alabama, sweetheart. I was born in this nice town called Jasper, but I moved around a lot after that."

"Why?"

"Because I was a difficult little piece of work."

" . . . what?"

"I think the longest I ever stayed with one foster family was eight months. When I was your age, fifteen."

"Foster . . . what about your parents?"

"That's a nice story, but I ain't telling it tonight."

"Okay. So where did you live when you were fifteen?"

"Athens, Georgia. Real crappy area of town, but I liked it there."

"Tenth grade?"

"Yep. Not that I actually showed up for class, much. When I did, it was mainly just to see her."

"Ooh, there's a her in this story." I said, eyebrows raised. I didn't mind, it was before I was even born. She definitely wasn't in his life anymore.

"Emily Bauer. And she wasn't a her, she was an Emily." He smiled at my uncomprehending look. "I was keen on her the moment I saw her, but she was datin' some musician then. Derek something. She was madly in love with him, and boy, did I ever hate him for it. But we were friends, Em and I. Probably the best friend I've ever had."

I tried to imagine a fifteen-year-old Sawyer, in love with his best friend. The thought made me smile.

"Until she came over one night, a real mess. She wouldn't explain to me what was wrong, she just kept telling me she loved me and kissing me. I was pretty damn confused, she'd always said how in love she was with Derek. And then she started sayin' how she wanted to run away with me. Get on a bus and just leave, never come back. She had me packing and everything, halfway out the door before my sense kicked in. I finally got it out of her, the reason she suddenly wanted to run away."

"She was pregnant." I echoed my mind's understanding. Now his words from before had made sense. No one should ever have to be fifteen and pregnant.

"Yeah. And I felt terrible, like it was my fault –though I'd scarcely laid a hand on her in the eight months I'd known her, the thing was definitely Derek's- but I couldn't go with her. Tried to calm her down. She said she'd told Derek already and he'd freaked out, said he wanted nothing to do with it."

"Wow. What'd you do?"

"Told her to go home and tell her parents. She came from a good family, that girl. Bit strict, but I knew she'd be alright. Better off than she'd've been if I ran off with her." He looked down, saying the last few words with simple conviction.

"And she did? She just went home?"

"Yep. And when I tried calling the next morning, no answer. Tried going over there, but her dad answered the door and said she wasn't able to hang out. For a week this kept up, me calling and trying to go see her. And this was summer break, mind you, so I couldn't even see her in school. I did see that Derek kid, though." His voice was sinister, now.

I gulped in fear for the Derek of the past.

"Asked him if it was true, about him breaking up with Em as soon as she told him. He tried to make excuses, but he had no intention of helping her out in any way. Her family was heavy-duty religious, too, and this was the eighties. She couldn't get rid of it . . . he said he felt bad about the whole thing." Sawyer's voice dripped rage. "Well, I hurt him pretty bad, I guess. He was hospitalized –don't look at me like that, Cammy, he deserved every bruise. Anyway, I'd been in a lot of fights, but this was bad, I had to go to court. The family I was staying with at that point, they were pretty cool, but that was the last straw. Before they shipped me off to stay somewhere else, I went by Em's house, to say goodbye. I think I changed my mind about running away with her, now that my life was a wreck. And I probably would have asked her if she was still game, except when I got there, there were some guys loading all the Bauers' furniture and stuff into a moving van. Told me they'd already left the state and were having their stuff shipped to them. I was gone, too, within the week, and I never heard from Emily again."

I gaped at him. "I'm so sorry! That's an awful story."

"You asked about where I grew up. Athens, Georgia and Emily Bauer was one of the most significant events of my adolescence, and you tell me it's an awful story?"

"No. It's . . . it's just not what I expected."

"What did you expect, then?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, then, Cameron, where did you grow up?"

"I was born and raised in Seattle, Washington. Before crashing here, I lived with my parents, and there's no him at all in my story, at least, not a him that was to me what Emily Bauer was to you. I guess my story is nowhere near as interesting as yours." I half-lied.

"Count yourself lucky." He muttered. "No him at all? Really? I find that a little hard to believe, considering your, ah, current state." He nodded towards my tummy.

"What you said when I asked about your parents? That you don't want to tell me? Can I have a pass like that, too?"

"Is it really embarrassing? What, is the father a band geek or something?"

"You're way too curious."

"What can I say? You don't seem the type of girl to get knocked up in the usual way. There's gotta be a story behind it."

"There isn't."

"How far along are you?"

"Little over a month, I guess."

"So, it was in Australia?"

It seemed harmless to tell him this much, but I didn't. Just looked at him. I so wanted to open up, but not about this, not to him.

"You know what? You're right, free pass. We all get to keep secrets. Tell me about something else."

"Like what?"

"Why were you in Australia in the first place? Or is that off-limits, too?"

"I was visiting my sister. She's twenty-four, and she moved to Australia about a year ago after marrying Jared. Also, she's about four months pregnant."

"Did you not like it there? You don't sound very enthused. Do you get along well with your sister, and her husband?"

"Oh, I liked it, I guess. Didn't do much. Normally Deb would've taken me surfing and stuff, but her being pregnant we sort of just sat around the house all day. But it was nice, I missed quite a bit of school."

"But how do you get along with her, and his Jared guy?"

"That's an odd question." I hedged.

"You just have this look on your face since I brought up Australia. Like you hate the whole continent. I'm tryin' to figure out why."

"I don't. Me and my sister are pretty close, and Jared . . . Jared's alright."

"No, he's not. I can tell you're just saying that, you don't mean it."

"Fine, okay. I don't think he's good enough for her. He doesn't really respect her enough for my liking." I put every ounce of fake authenticity I had into the words, trying to get past Sawyer's damned observational skills.

Sawyer narrowed his eyes. "Alright, Cammy. Why don't you tell me about your life back in the States. All non-impregnation related. I'd just like to know, well, who you are. Don't even know your last name."

"I don't even know your first name." I countered, but smiled. "I'm Cameron Melissa Peterson. I'm fifteen years old and my birthday is in December –so I'm almost sixteen- and besides Australia, I'd never left the country in my life."

"I didn't mean for you to list off the contents of your passport, Cammy. I mean, tell me who you are."

"Uh, I'm nobody special, really."

"Beg to differ, Cammy."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Calling you what?"

"My name. What happened to Thursday?"

"You seemed pretty pissed when you told me not to call you that anymore, I thought I'd listen."

"I didn't mean it. You can call me that. Or anything you want, really. Including my name, I guess."

He paused. "You can call me James."

My eyes went wide. "That's your name?"

"Yep. James Ford."

"Then who's Sawyer?"

"Part of that long story I don't feel like telling."

"Okay. James. I never would have guessed."

"Oh yeah? What did you guess?"

"I've thought about it, but I never came up with anything."

"Sure." He smirked.

"Y'know, you're not the only one using a fake name around here." I said mysteriously.

"What are you talking about?"

"Hurley, of course."

He laughed. "Could be his last name."

"Hmm. Maybe."

"What, you think he's cleverly duping us all?"

"Probably."

Hey didn't respond for a minute

"Hey, Thursday?"

"Yeah?"

"You gonna be okay?"

"As soon as this thing is dead, I will." I said mildly.

"When we get rescued, which'll be soon, I can feel it, you can just have it aborted. Would your parents go for that?"

"They can't know. They aren't really religious or anything, they'd probably agree to an abortion, under the circumstances, but they . . . just can't know."

"What circumstances?"

"Never mind. I just need it gone before we get rescued."

"I'll help you any way I can, with that."

"Because of Emily Bauer?"

"No, because of you, Cammy." I was suddenly aware of how close we were sitting, side by side. I felt like leaning my head on his shoulder, and the next thing I knew, I was. He didn't object.

After a few minutes of sitting like that, he shifted sideways and supported my head with one hand. It felt big and soft and rough against my cheek. And then he leaned down and kissed me. My lips fell open quickly, and his tongue slid along the outside edge of my lower lip, then the upper, before moving further into my mouth. The hand that wasn't holding my face went to my hair, and I felt his fingers tangle in it and slowly he drew them down to the tips and let it all go, before starting back at the top. His breath and his hands were hot against the cool night air, and I felt my entire body quiver into the warmth. My hand found his face, his scratchy, unshaven face, and held him close to me.

He was the one to break away. This time, I didn't question it. His hand continued to absently comb my hair, and he didn't look away from my face. "I'm sorry." He murmured.

"Don't be." I responded, equally quiet. "That was exactly what I needed."

"It's wrong." He shook his head a little and then looked away. His hand fell back to his lap, leaving my hair limp.

"Didn't feel wrong."

"Maybe not for you."

That stung, a bit. "It's getting late. I should go."

He only nodded as I stood and pulled back the entrance of the tent. But as I stepped out, he spoke. "Doesn't feel wrong for me, either, Thursday. Until I stop to think about it. Until I remember that I'm old enough to be your father."

"Don't talk like that."

"It's true. But it's hard to remember, sometimes. All the time. I can't stop certain . . . thoughts from going through my head, but I can decide not to act on them."

"I wish you wouldn't."

"I know you do. I just don't know why."

I sighed. "Good night, James. And thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything. Tonight, being so . . . supportive. So nice."

"You're welcome. Good night, Cammy."

That night was colder than any I'd spent on the island so far, but I was warmed by the memory of his kiss.