The Island

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A/N: Written for the April prompt of the Storytellers Club. I tried to stick to it, but some parts I changed around for the sake of the plot. Also, this is loosely based on something that happened to me a few years ago (I had some help from my younger brother on remembering)


"Kim! Kim, where are you?" he frantically called, eyes darting around too fast to make out anything in the light from the quickly sinking sun. He shone his light on his torn map, trying to make sense of scribbles that didn't quite fit and an island he knew was missing. A notification appeared on his phone: 10% battery remaining. The light would be out within minutes, and the lack of service would no longer be an issue.

This was just great. Kim was missing, he was completely and utterly lost, and, worst of all, he was going to be late for dinner.

. . .

"Slow down, Kim! You're going too fast!" a boy no older than fifteen shouted as he chased flowing strawberry-blonde locks, chest heaving and eyes stinging from the dust her sandals were kicking up.

"Come on, have a little fun!" Kim laughed as she tossed her hair back, not bothering to look at him as she spoke. "It's not my fault you're so unbearably slow!" And with that, it seemed as if she picked up speed, just to spite him. If she had, it wouldn't have come as a surprise.

"But it's so dangerous! The ground is covered with pebbles- maybe even glass! You'll hurt yourself if you fa- ah!" And with that, he was down, laying on his face as he heard footsteps coming closer and a voice yelling, Jo! Jo, are you alright? And the idiot, all he could think to mutter in response was a weak "I told you so."

And so, she picked his dirt-covered body off the ground, just like always, and she helped wipe off the blades of grass and tiny ants, just like always. Jo had been right- there were pebbles everywhere, and he was made painfully aware of that as Kim slapped at them, shaking the tiny bits off. Great, ten minutes into the trip and he had already hurt himself.

"Jo, are you listening?" a worry-laced voice asked. "Are you okay? I don't see any blood. . ." This was how it always was, no matter how often he hurt his clumsy self. Kim never laughed at him until she was one hundred percent certain he was okay, which was just another feature Jo admired about the girl.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I fall all the time, kinda used to it by now." And only then did he notice the strange look on her face, something dangerous swimming in her crinkling gaze. Her smiled unnerved him, and please dear Lord don't let her say what I think she's gonna say.

"Race you to the cabin!"

And so, off they were once again, chasing strawberry-blonde locks glowing golden in the early dawn sun, chest aching in a different yet familiar sort of way, too focused on her bubbling laughter to notice the dust being kicked onto his pebble-free face.

. . .

The rest of the morning and afternoon passed in the usual, mostly uneventful way things usually did for the two teens. After unpacking- or, in Kim's case, dumping her clothes onto her bed- and a quick snack of Nutella sandwiches made by her mom, it was time to finally hit the lake.

"Race you to the-" The challenge was cut short by Jo's hand covering her mouth, effectively preventing a repeat of that morning's events. I am not falling a second time today.

"How about we just walk instead? And besides," he reasoned, "how are we going to run while carrying a kayak?" And, without her even saying it, Jo knew Kim was planning on using the race as a cover for not having to lug the thing all the way to the water. One look at her, and he picked it up without a fight- he could never say no to her, even when she didn't voice her commands.

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