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Stranded

Page 10

by Chance Carter


  I’ve been thinking about Hannah. She has to be worried sick. She must know by now that I was one of the passengers. I’m sad that I ruined her wedding. I wish I could just talk to her and let her know I’m okay. Actually I have so much I want to share with her, about Charlie, and Ryan, and life here on the island. She would say, “What the fuck! Just live a little and stop overthinking. Sex is supposed to be fun!”

  Of course, she’s also a slut. ツ (Kidding Hannah Banana! You know I love you!)

  God, I miss my mom too. In spite of everything that happened I know she must be grieving. I was so hurt when she left dad, and for the longest time, I blamed her for his death. It’s stupid, I know. I’ve been thinking about that a lot since the plane crash, wondering how much I might have gotten wrong. How much I didn’t understand about their marriage, and their divorce. I never even asked her why she left, but she must have had her reasons, right? Was she in pain? Did she feel unwanted? Unappreciated? Invisible?

  The older I get, the more I realize how sheltered I was from their problems. I really didn’t know her beyond the parent/child relationship because she left when I was still so young. I was only 22 and still had so much growing up to do. Dad is gone, but Mom isn’t. There’s still a chance for us to heal. Funny how it took a life altering experience to shift my perspective. If we get rescued, I’m going to try to mend things between us.

  Correction, WHEN we get rescued...

  “Hi, Joss.”

  Joss looked up from her journal, shielding her eyes from the sun, to find Willie standing in front of her. It was late afternoon, and she was enjoying a few minutes by herself before dinner. She started making a habit of that a week earlier because she’d found herself missing her alone time. She liked the men, but she needed time to centre herself each day. Sometimes she would meditate, or do yoga, but mostly she would just write in her journal. Writing allowed her to manage her thoughts and keep her grounded, especially on those days when she was afraid.

  “Sorry to interrupt, I know you’re writing. Mind if I just sit? Being around you comforts me.”

  “That’s a sweet thing to say,” she blushed, warmed by the sentiment. His quiet presence comforted her too. She patted the sand beside her, inviting him to join her. She and Willie had developed a healthy respect for one another over the past three weeks. Out of all the men, he was the one she was the most curious about. He was a man of few words, but what he did share was almost always interesting. Plus, he was a hard worker. It was Willie who provided most of their protein, fishing on a daily basis. He was getting exceptionally good at it too. Not a day went by that he didn’t bring something back from the ocean. One day, the week before, he’d caught two large Mullets, probably eight pounds each. There was so much left over that Joss taught them how to preserve the left overs by smoking the meat. That was a good day.

  “You don’t need to stop, I’ll just sit beside you and look at the view,” he assured, dropping to the sand, stretching his long legs out in front of him. She closed her journal and set it beside her.

  “No, I’m done. It’s ok.”

  “I like watching you write. You look so peaceful,” he continued, his eyes regarding her thoughtfully. “You never stop working, always so worried about taking care of us, your little brow furrowed. It’s nice to see you relax.”

  “Really? Do I look like I’m scowling all the time?” she laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. “I’ve been told I have resting bitch face.”

  “No, no. You just look serious, like you are always thinking about what needs to be done next, you know?

  “That’s true. That’s just my way. I guess I need to be in control all the time,” she winked.

  “Some might say you’re nurturing.”

  “I guess,” she smiled, pleased he saw it that way. “I just want us all to be ok. I’m afraid if I stop planning ahead, I might overlook something or forget something crucial, you know? I worry we might run out of food, or someone will get sick, or hurt. My mind just won’t shut off.”

  It was one of the reasons she’d enjoyed those few stolen moments with Ryan and Charlie so much. It offered her a reprieve from the constant stress. Charlie was so daring and in control, his lovemaking self-assured and confident. He always took care of her, like she was precious to him. He could make her forget where they were. Fuck that was sexy!

  And Ryan? He was playful, silly, and funny. He brought out her goofy side and made her feel young and free. A tall order, given her serious nature. She never knew that laughter could be such a great aphrodisiac!

  “But you’re a nurturer too, Willie,” she interjected, respectfully shaking off her sexy memories.

  “It’s not the same. I go fishing because it’s relaxing. It’s been therapeutic in a way. It’s so peaceful out there, in the water. I also like the challenge. I have to be strategic.”

  “Makes sense. Basketball must be the same?” she asked, curious about what life was like for him back home.

  “In some ways maybe, but basketball is a team sport. When I play, I’m always running, six steps ahead. How do I get the ball down the court? What’s defense doing? Who’s blocking me? Where’s my point guard? On the court it’s fast paced and intense, but the gratification is instant. But out there,” he gestured to the water in front of them, “it’s all about the stillness and waiting, patience, something I was never really good at. I’m learning though. I always chased the rush, you know? Everything came so fast to me, so easy. I guess it made me kind of cocky,” he shrugged, masking his embarrassment.

  Joss cocked her head and smiled at him, surprised by his admission, “I don’t get that vibe from you at all.”

  “It’s true. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, done some serious soul searching. Before I decided to come to Fiji, I’d spent months pissed off at the world. That whole scandal really fucked me over. I wanted to lay blame on everyone else, pass the buck... anything but take ownership for my part in it. It was frigging painful. It’s hard work being in victim mode all the time,” he offered, his voice deep with regret.

  She could see he was opening up to her, sharing his experience, and she wanted to offer him empathy, but she wasn’t familiar with the scandal he was referring too. She smiled weakly at him, and shrugged, indicating her ignorance. He looked at her curiously, trying to gauge her response.

  “Forgive me Willie, I’m not really up on current events, especially when it comes to sports. I live a pretty sheltered life at home. I practically live, breathe, and work in the mountains. Shoddy service out there.”

  “So you didn’t hear about it? It was all over the news for months,” he prodded, his eyes wide with disbelief.

  “No, sorry.”

  “Don’t be. In a way, I guess that’s good. You didn’t have pre-conceived notions about me,” he chuckled as though relieved.

  “What was the scandal?” Joss asked, treading softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He paused for a moment, his eyes soft as he stared out to the horizon. She was ready to withdraw the question when he finally spoke.

  “It happened in December, just before New Year’s. We had a Christmas day game and then we were scheduled to be off until the first week of January. A few guys from the team decided to go to Vegas, to ring in the New Year,” he offered tightly, his voice cracking and pensive, as though his memories were painful. Joss reached a hand out and touched him lightly on his knee, encouraging him to offer only what he could. He seemed to understand and nodded at her before continuing.

  “I’d just had the game of my career, scoring 68 points in a match against the Knicks. Only four players in NBA history have ever done that, Wilt Chamberlain, Kobe Bryant, Elgin Baylor, and my idol, Michael Jordan. I became the fifth. My adrenaline was pumping for days after that, and Vegas seemed the right place to ride out the high, so I went with them.”

  Joss smiled at him. She didn’t watch basketball but she knew the game enough to know she should be impressed, and she was, bu
t she didn’t want to interrupt his story.

  “We partied for three days, playing high stakes poker, dancing in the clubs, hanging out in strip joints; just a group of buddies blowing off some steam. You have to understand, I’m not much of a drinker, and I never do drugs, but I admit, I was tipping back a few that weekend. Let’s just say, I wasn’t feeling any pain,” he paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

  “So New Year’s Eve came and we had plans to go to a private party at an exclusive club. One of my teammates had met a girl the night before and invited her and a few of her friends to come party with us. They seemed like a fun bunch, the kind of girls a couple of young, red-blooded American guys look to party with on New Year’s, the kind that wear very little and dance real close, if you know what I mean?” he looked at her sheepishly, as though he wasn’t proud to admit it.

  “I understand,” she nodded, without judgement.

  “One of my buddies suggested we take the party to his suite, ring in the new year by ourselves. The ladies came along, quite eager from what I could tell. We ended up partying for a few more hours. One young woman in particular seemed very interested in getting to know me better. We were both drinking quite a bit, dancing, making out. It was kind of hot, so when she asked to go back to my room, I was down,” he cleared his throat, stalling, as though unsure how much to share with her.

  “Go on, Willie. It’s okay,” Joss encouraged softly, pleased he trusted her enough to open up.

  “I won’t go into the details except to say that we had a lot of fun together. It seemed very normal to me, nothing crazy, and definitely consensual. She stayed for a few hours and after we hooked up we took a shower together; then she left and I went to bed. The next morning I woke up and started packing, completely unaware that life was about to go off the rails.”

  “What happened?”

  “She went on twitter and suggested that she might have been assaulted the night before, by me. She even posted a picture of us dancing together. It was a photo one of her friends took at the club.”

  “Oh,” Joss whispered, trying to mask her surprise.

  “Yes. You can imagine things became a total shit show after that. She eventually pressed charges against me, but not until several weeks later. Maybe she got caught up in the frenzy and all the attention, and it confused her, I don’t know. Social media ripped me apart. The story went viral, and the rag magazines and TMZ ate it up. I had paparazzi tracking my every move, and even had death threats. My Laker brothers stood behind me, but I became withdrawn and quiet, as you can imagine. Deeply depressed.”

  She could understand it. She was all too familiar with the seduction of depression, that deep pull that holds you under, making you feel safe yet vulnerable at the same time.

  “I wasn’t suspended by the league, but I didn’t see much court time either. Then I was taken in for questioning. I was scared shitless, Joss. I felt like the whole fucking world had gone crazy. I knew I was innocent, but I was starting to question my own reality. I was terrified that the court of public opinion had already decided I was a rapist and I would never get my life back, even if I proved my innocence. At that point it was a ‘he said, she said’ kind of deal, and it was looking pretty bleak.”

  Joss placed a hand on his knee, to offer him a little comfort. She knew what it was like having the world suddenly flip on its axis. “What happened?”

  He looked down at his knee and gently placed his hand over hers before continuing.

  “One of her friends came forward, a young woman that had also been partying with us that night. She told the investigators that her friend, my accuser, was not telling the truth,” he sighed.

  “And?”

  “She shared a text message that was sent to her the morning after the New Year’s party, in which my accuser said she had a great night with me and bragged about the experience in great detail. I’m guessing it didn’t sound like assault.”

  “Whoa!” Joss raised her brows, surprised and relieved by how the story was unfolding.

  “Yeah. Thank God she had proof, otherwise my ass would be behind bars right now. I guess for weeks the young woman had been too afraid to come forward and reveal what she knew, for fear of getting her friend in trouble. She finally blew the whistle when she found out that my accuser was going to try to settle out of court for a large sum of money. I guess integrity trumped loyalty, in this case.”

  “Wow, you really dodged a bullet. What happened to the girl?”

  “She went on social media and made a public apology, which was good. Unfortunately I’m still feeling the backlash. Despite the exoneration, my reputation was tarnished. People, to this day, still post shit about me on social media. I’m not gonna lie, it hurts.”

  “I bet it does,” Joss whispered, tenderly taking his hand into her own. “You said you’ve been doing some soul searching, what have you uncovered in that process?”

  “Good question,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I guess for a long time I kept looking outwards, trying to figure out why this happened. Like I said, blaming everything and everyone else. The truth is, I’d been acting like a hot shot, strutting around like I was somehow untouchable, that I was beyond reproach. If I’m keeping it real, I was acting pretty vain, especially after that epic night on the court. I was a fucking god. I realize now there was a lesson in all of it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m responsible for the choices I make, good or bad, and whatever happens as a result of those choices I have to be willing to own,” he asserted. “I’m just a guy that happens to be good at basketball, and I get paid obscenely well for it. Is that right or wrong, who’s to say, but it sure doesn’t make me better than anyone else. What about the guy who works 60-70 hours a week teaching kids, the future of our country, making fifty grand a year, or a nurse, slugging it out 12 hours a day, healing the sick. Am I better than them? Hell no. I just dribble a ball 94 feet and put it in a hoop and for that I’m celebrated. It’s fucked up.”

  “Willie, I’m guessing you worked really hard to get to the NBA. You shouldn’t diminish your success,” Joss noted sincerely.

  “I get that, but let’s face it, I spent years pushing my body, building my strength and perfecting the game, but at the end of the day, it’s just a game, Joss,” he quietly protested, a pained expression contorting his handsome face. Joss could see him struggling, wishing she could ease his pain.

  “I guess I’m just trying to say that I see it now. My Nana raised me to work hard and have integrity. Somewhere along the way I lost sight of that. I developed this strong sense of entitlement and it was wrong. I’m no more entitled than anyone else, no better than anyone else, so why was I acting that way?”

  “Money seems to pay for entitlement...” Joss agreed quietly.

  “It does, but it shouldn’t. What if wealth was decided by how many people you’ve helped, or how decently and kind you act? What if that kindness determined your status?”

  Nodding, Joss gazed at him and smiled, her green eyes softening with respect for him. In that moment he invited her to see his soul, and it was beautiful.

  “You’ve been processing a lot, haven’t you,” she asked, placing an arm around him to pull him closer, in a pure gesture of friendship. He allowed himself to be embraced for a moment before pulling away.

  “I just want to be a better man, Joss,” he concluded. Although she wasn’t sure how he could be, she reached a hand up and gently stroked his cheek, nodding in understanding. He was already pretty fucking awesome.

  “You don’t have far to go,” she promised.

  He smiled warmly at her, his eyes begging for a kiss. She wanted to kiss him. The moment screamed for it, but before she could lean in, they heard their names being shouted from behind.

  “Do you guys want some dinner?” Ryan asked, slowly jogging toward them. Joss sat forward, picking her journal up from the sand.

  Willie cleared his throat and chuckled, as though he couldn’t be
lieve Ryan’s timing. “Yeah man, that sounds good. We’ll be right there,” he shouted, waving him off. Ryan stopped in his tracks and nodded, then spun around with a grin, heading back up the slope. Willie was grateful for a few more minutes of alone time.

  Joss rose off the ground, then bent over to pick up the mat she’d woven together with palm fronds. It served as both a yoga and a beach mat.

  “Here, let me carry that for you,” Wille offered, taking the mat from her, rolling it up.

  “Thanks,” she sighed, shaking off the moment. She smiled and turned away, walking toward their camp.

  “Joss?” he called out, gently urging her back. She turned around, a curious expression on her face.

  “Will you go out with me?” he blurted awkwardly.

  She raised her brows and giggled, unsure what he meant. “Out with you?” she questioned.

  He chuckled warmly, shaking off his embarrassment. “Let me take you on a date.”

  “A date? Here, on the island?” she asked curiously, intrigued by his proposal.

  “Sure, leave that to me! Just say yes?” he asked, his own brows raising in a question.

  “Okay. Sure!” she agreed, wondering what he would come up with. Either way, she welcomed more time with him.

  “Great. Tomorrow? Same time?”

  She raised herself up on her tiptoes to offer him a peck on the cheek, but failed. He was much too tall and she almost tumbled over. He quickly wrapped his free arm around her, and leaned over to kiss her, his soft lips moistening her cheek. She appreciated the innocence of it, surprised by how much the tenderness moved her.

  “Come on, let’s eat. Confession makes me hungry,” Willie teased, gesturing her to lead the way.

  Chapter 15

  “So, I’ve been thinking we need to try to make it to the north side of the island,” Captain Grant proposed, settling himself beside Charles. They were all together, finishing up their morning meal, preparing to tackle their tasks for the day.

 

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