Do you know what’s more disgusting than being offered a slimy banana surrounded by flies? Being offered a slimy banana surrounded by flies that’s been touched by Bill’s hands after he’s licked his fingers.
I love the guy, but I have my limits. Which is why I find myself currently walking out of the jungle, examining the untouched banana I’d worked a half hour to get. I think I spent more calories scaling the tree than I’ll get from eating the fruit.
I tear the peel off my late lunch and try to inhale the banana as fast as humanly possible before the bugs descend and place their grubby little hands all over it. I’m just stepping onto the sandybeach with cheeks full of mush when I spot Missy sneaking through the cabin of the plane. She smiles with her covert actions, and I see that her previously injured cheek is without a bandage today. In its place, there is a mending line across her glowing skin. I feel a weight lift in my chest, knowing she’s healing with every day that passes.
Missy briefly looks out across the beach, and the banana gets swallowed whole as I duck behind the nearest palm, hoping to avoid detection.
I take a moment before leaning my head around the sturdy trunk. My lips tilt up as I watch Missy tuck something underneath my pillow, straighten my sheets and blanket, and then move down to her bunk as if she is merely there to make beds and not continue our little game.
As I wait for a minute or two behind the tree, I watch drones circle Team Fuchsia as Legend attempts to catch sand crabs while his sister sits just up the beach from him, weaving her hair in an elaborate twist-braid thing.
I peer back at the cabin and find Missy making her way around the backside of the airplane before disappearing altogether.
Now’s my moment. Lazily, I make a roundabout way to my bed, taking a few minutes to stop and build a new teepee of wood for our next campfire and look out at the rolling waves that shimmer with the reflection of the afternoon sun. All the while, my fingers tap together with anticipation. I want to make a beeline to my bed, but I know the moment I do anything out of the ordinary, I’ll alert the drones to my presence and they’ll come swarming. Right now, I want them to stay exactly where they are.
Eventually, I reach my bed, my fingers skimming the space between my sheets and pillow until I feel it—the small rectangular pages enfolded in a glossy cover. I pull out the coloring book and quickly flip through two days’ worth ofletters to find the newest edition written on the very last page, bookmarked with a pen, a teal crayon, and a glow-in-the-dark star. Missy’s flowy script spans the page, her words working their way around a picture of little airplanes flying side by side between puffs of clouds.
For the briefest moment, I rub the little glow-in-the-dark star between the pads of my fingers like I’ve done for so many years and note that, yet again, this little star is indeed lucky, because right now, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.
A couple days ago, after Missy and I had our midnight “moment” in the sand, we’d woken up with a wall between us. We’ve been mad at each other before, but never awkward. I couldn’t stand it. And most importantly, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing whatever it was we’d been creating between us. Because the more our relationship shifts, the more I want it.
And so, I made a choice—a choice that included a little retaliation and a little sabotage.
While Legend was taking a dive in the ocean two days ago, I’d snuck into his backpack and taken some of the things that he’d stolen from our bags after Mayday Challenge One—namely, the coloring book and crayons, along with a few other items. By the sheer amount of knickknacks Legend had in his backpack, I got the impression we weren’t the only team he’d been stealing from.
And, because my mom taught me right, I had to leave Legend a little thank-you note for taking care of our stuff for so long. I’d ripped out a page of the coloring book, the same page that he’d drawn on the day after he’d stolen from our bags. He’d made sure we knew the theft was his doing, taking pride in drawing all over our coloring book with a fuchsia crayon. So I did a drawing of my own just for him, coloring his fuchsia pink airplane going up in teal flames and leaving it on his bed.
With the coloring book in hand, I walk over to the airplane’s galley so I can read Missy’s note without the threat of drones spying on me. I place my backpack on the galley’s small aluminum counter and make sure it’s blocking my lapel camera from viewing the coloring book and the words inside. Let America assume me and Missy are passing secret love notes between us, but what’s really on the page stays between me and her.
After reading and rereading Missy’s most recent message, I find I can’t wipe the smile from my face. I feel … I feel giddy. Ack, what is happening to me? I’d dated my ex-girlfriend, Jane, for nearly a year, and not once had I felt this light, this free.
Jane and I had always been so buttoned-up. On paper, we were the perfect couple—similar family backgrounds, future lawyers, a passion for the outdoors, and a weakness for seafood. But over these past few days, Missy’s made me question if I ever really knew what it was to be compatible with someone. Missy is not just pretty, but smart and witty—and she’s made me feel like myself again. Someone I was beginning to think was gone forever.
Needing more of her, I flip the lucky star in my hand and turn to the very first entry in the coloring book from two days ago and work my way back through our messages.
Missy Jean,
I’ve been giving it some thought, and I think this lucky star should not just be mine, but ours. Since you’re still in need of a replacement for your seashell, I propose we share its luck. Who knows, maybe with both of us as its rightful owners, we’ll actually win this game.
-Colton
Colton,
You stole back the coloring book?! Please inform me the next time you intend to partake in such criminal actions, for I would’ve dearly loved to see the look on Legend’s face when he discovered it was gone. And you found a pen and our crayons? You didn’t happen to see our missing deodorant in his backpack, did you? A girl can dream, right?
As to your suggestion, I’ll happily take you up on that deal. I think I could use a little more luck over these next couple of days. As a formal representation of this merger, I am signing my name in crayon on the back of this glow-in-the-dark star. This action is legally binding, so proceed with the utmost caution, esquire.
-Missy Jean
Missy Jean,
Just to be clear, never in a thousand lifetimes would I ever use a deodorant stick that’s already touched Legend’s sweaty armpits. But I did manage to steal a few other items like our sunglasses and a flashlight. But unfortunately, our Swiss Army knife wasn’t in his backpack. Legend usually keeps it in his swim trunks. Too bad.
Also, I have formally closed our deal by signing my name next to yours in said crayon. We are legally the co-owners of this very lucky star.
-Colton
(P.S. Speaking of names, I’ve never met anyone else with the name Missy Jean. Where did it originate from?)
