Authors: Marien Dore
Island Rush (34 page)
“Oh my God,” I laughed. I looked up and found Casey’s stunned face staring at it. “Imagine what could have happened on that trip. First dirty magazines, condoms, and…” I broke, laughing harder and glancing at Casey’s amused while uneasy face. “And now, we find marijuana.”
Yes, marijuana.
My hand grabbed the small plastic bag of pot, pulling it out of the backpack. My eyes caught another sight in the backpack as well. I handed the baggie to Casey while I reached back in the bag and claimed the other small bag that contained rolling papers. I shook my head, so surprised. Out of all the things we need, all the things that were common to find if luggage, we find marijuana.
“How do you suppose they managed to get that through security?”
Shrugging, he said, “Since it was in a carry-on bag, they had it with them at all times. If anything, I believe airports are more on edge about bombs than marijuana. That is what their machines are made to detect. Not specifically marijuana so that’s all I can think.” He snorted and glanced back at the two small baggies. “I never planned on seeing this stuff again,” he said, setting it aside, a sad and frustrated look crossing his face.
I set the rolling papers beside the pot as he reached back in the bag. I had a question to ask him first. “What does that mean?” For him to say he never planned to see pot again… well, it heightened my interest quite a bit on account of him using the word ‘again.’
He pursed his lips, glancing over at me. “It tore a family I knew apart. More specifically, my cousin and his parents.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, interested in hearing more.
He pursed his lips, not happy that this was brought up. He was willing to explain, though. “Remember what I said about how my best friend and I would go to parties? Well, my cousin Kade and I liked going to some together too and at some of them, people would be smoking pot. I never had an issue with it. He and I did it every once in a while. But one time, my cousin went to a party with some of his other friends. He started smoking some pot, and as it turns out, it wasn’t exactly pot. There was another shit in it too. Eventually, it got him hooked. He can’t get off it, even today,” he said, pursing his lips. “His dad – my uncle – doesn’t talk to him anymore. His mother is nearly broke from funding his addiction then trying to get him into rehab. It made me scared that the same thing would happen to me. That I would smoke some, and it wouldn’t be natural. So I stopped. I look at it as possibly being as bad as some of the harder stuff for what some people put into it.”
I watched and listened to him intently. It was an extremely intriguing story. I was slightly surprised that he smoked it before. Hearing why he doesn’t smoke it anymore was even crazier. “Do you miss it? Does being around it now make you want to do it?” I asked, sincerely curious. “Take the risk?”
“Yeah but it’s not worth it. I mean I know that this stuff is fine,” he said, nodding down to the baggie. “Yet at the same time, you can never be too safe. There is always that small chance.”
I watched him carefully and smiled. “Wow. Mr. Rush — a badass pot-smoking teacher. Who would have thought,” I teased him, making him laugh.
“Oh, it’s not that shocking. Like I said, I didn’t do it much before, but now, I just don’t do it at all. Have you ever smoked it?”
I shook my head. “No. Always did wonder though what it would be like.”
“Hmm. Am I bringing that side of you out? That fun side of yours, Janice?” he asked, a smirk crossing his face.
“Well, obviously,” I teased.
The pot set aside – and neither of us sure what we were going to do with it – Casey moved on to see what else was in the backpack. His hand in the bag searching, his eyebrow rose a second later. I saw that his hand stopped searching in the bag. He pulled out a brown leather wallet and opened the flap, revealing a driver’s license.
“Andrew Wisk,” he whispered, reading the name. My heart jumped. I knew it was someone from school but to hear who, it was more realistic. Andrew was a normal kid that I barely spoke to. We were lab partners in Biology last year, and that was the only time I spoke with him. He was nice with a twisted sense of humor. Sneaking pot on this trip didn’t surprise me about him.
I looked at Casey’s sad face and leaned over to get a better look. Andrew’s blond hair shined bright in the picture of him, his blue eyes vaguely familiar. “He was in my class. Nice kid, good grades, bright future. With a wicked side to him that liked to talk back once in a while,” he said. Casey shook his head. “I don’t know how I will ever accept that all these people died.”
I pursed my lips. “Trust me, I still can’t fully let it sink in either.” Wanting him to cheer up, I smiled slightly. “What else is in the bag?” I pushed.
He focused back on the bag, pulling out…
“An Xbox?” I questioned, debating whether this was as absurd as the pot. How could we use an Xbox to our benefit on an island? Next time I decide to punch Casey for some reason, I guess I can just smack him with this Xbox. Other than that, it was useless to us.
He chuckled. “Do you remember something the students were repeatedly told before the trip?” he asked.
I recalled what he meant and chuckled myself. “That the hotel we were staying at didn’t provide TVs?”
“Yes. That would be it. Do you guys choose not to listen or is there no hope for students?”
“I think teachers just have that effect. Whatever you have to say is automatically boring and irrelevant. You are just as bad as a teenager, though,” I smiled.
“Really? I thought I was the older one here.”
“In the body, sure. Not in mind. You’re stubborn too, which doesn’t help your cause.”
“Wow. Straight to the gut, is that it? You’re saying you’re smarter and more mature than me?” His face lit up with happiness, one I barely saw before at school. It was nice, fooling around with him. He was so wonderful, his teeth showing in a half smile that made my heart jump.
With my head tilted to the side and staring up at him, I grinned in a teasing manner. Leaning up closer, in a whisper, I let my voice brush against his tilted lips. “More mature in ways you wouldn’t understand,” I teased him, speaking in a dramatic tone that made him laugh and roll his eyes. It was clear I caught his mind’s interest.
Holding in a chuckle, he responded to me. “Is that right?” His eyes glanced down to my smirking lips. “And smarter?” he asked, his voice higher than normal.
Against his lips, I scoffed playfully. “Well, duh.”
Beyond the flirting and fooling around, I could see his eyes light up brighter. He moved the quarter of an inch to hit my lips with his. His mouth melting on mine, I parted my lips, welcoming his warm taste to mingle with mine. I held my body back, nailing it into my brain that if I moved, he would too and that would not be good for his cut.
Before any more could happen, including his fit of pain, I pulled back and smiled. Resting my hand on his chest, he looked down to it and smiled too. He grabbed my hand and slid it up to rest on his cheek.
But not a second later, his lips hit mine again, harder and faster. I couldn’t help but meet him at that same pace, the same amount of passion. My hand slid up to his hair, pulling us together more. I know I should have stopped, but I couldn’t. Somehow, I was able to pull back, but it was too late. He grunted and hissed in pain.
“Oh god, I am sorry, I—”
Taking deep breaths with a tightened jaw, he shook his head and forced out his words. “Don’t regret that. No matter if it hurts, I love it.”
I nodded and smiled. “It’s neither of our faults for wanting each other. Regardless, we still need to be more careful. We can blame it all on that stupid cut.”
He chuckled. “I agree. Damn the cut!”
An hour later - or so I guessed - we were down to the last bag. We went through each one except the last carry-on. Some of the bags materials were wet, some weren’t. It depended on what the bag was made of.
I looked over the pile we collected of both dry and wet things. “Okay, so we have enough clothes for each of us to last quite a while. A knife, two magazines, condoms, marijuana, an Xbox, a razor, shaving cream, cologne, shampoo, shoes that are too small for me, and make-up. We also have a hair brush, one toothbrush, toothpaste, and some book that doesn’t look interesting,” I listed.
“Yes. And no food, no toilet paper, which I was really hoping for — and no phone or computer. One more bag left to go. We should start praying now.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think we got really lucky considering. You’re set for life and so am I for the most part. Food will be our main problem, but we’ll live.”
I dragged the last bag over to us, setting it between both our laps. We really did get lucky. We could clean ourselves thoroughly for the first time since we got here. Plus, the shelter will be much easier to make with the knife we now have.
“Ready?” I asked.
He nodded. I gripped the zipper of the carry-on bag and slid it down, opening the bag to the mysteries inside. I opened it, letting the light hit the inside. A white box with red lettering and lines was the first thing that caught my eye. My mouth fell open, and I stared.
“What is it?” he asked from next to me, unable to see that far into the bag.
“It’s a first-aid kit,” I whispered, looking up to him. He gaped with me, and I let out a hysterical giggle, returning my attention back to the bag. I yanked the box out and opened it. It was all there. The many sizes of bandages and gauze pads; there was medicine with ointments, creams, and other solutions. Material for stitches and tweezers also caught my eye. There was a thermometer, gloves, and alcohol wipes. Ibuprofen and aspirin! I also saw there was a roll of dressings as well in this little kit. I couldn’t have been happier over crap you find in a hospital!
“This will help you!”
He just stared with a growing smile. “I will be able to kiss you for as long as I want.”
“Yes,” I said laughing. I tilted my head up and saw his blush, scoffing. Then, I scanned over all of the things that could make Casey’s cut heal better and faster. “I can heal you.”
“My lovely doctor,” he said fondly. “That I love oh so much.”
I wanted more than anything to hug him. Such a cheesy dork…. After chuckling at his words, an idea popped into my head. “I think I know a way where it won’t hurt much either when I fix you up. A way that can make you relax and stay calm so I can do it more easily. A way that I’m not sure, you will like at first.”
I watched his face turn into confusion, his eyebrows dipped and framing his gorgeous brown eyes. Then, understanding dawned on his face at the realization of what I was talking about. This would be interesting for sure.
“You can’t be serious,” he said.
“I am and you know it.” I glanced up at the sky, seeing the sun start to lower in the sky. The leaves and branches were black silhouettes against the light pink canvas above us. The air was starting to cool too, meaning we needed to start the fire.
“We need to move you towards the lake so we can start our fire. This will be a good opportunity to get rid of some pain you would feel when moving. It will help,” I went on, trying to convince him this was a good idea.
“You want me to get high just so I won’t feel as much pain when we move?”
“It’s either that or kill yourself again when you move. Besides, it won’t only help that. I want to untie the vine and stitch the cut up as best as I can once we are settled by the fire. Getting high will ensure you won’t pass out again from pain,” I said, pleading with my eyes. “I would like to wait until tomorrow so I could see better but I am nervous. I want your back patched up now before it could get worse.”
It wasn’t like I wanted to make him uncomfortable with marijuana especially because of what he told me about his cousin and how that affected him. Call me selfish, but I don’t want to see him hurting. The amount of pain he is going through by just moving is unbearable. I did not want to wittiness his tortured body and expression of pain. It cracked my heart to see him hurting like that. So if a chance to maybe decrease that pain arrived – which it did – we needed to take it.
He stared at me hard, thinking it over, all the while the sun continued to lower in the sky. “Casey, you need this so you don’t feel the pain as much. Are you going to try and tell me it’s not so bad? Because I know it hurts. I saw the pain it caused you. A little bit of tension made you pass out. Imagine how it would feel if I stitched you up and cleaned it. Please do this.”
He closed his eyes and took my hand before opening them. “You’re all I need to be okay. You make my pain go away, remember?”
He looked at me so sweetly, trying to get me to understand. And I did. But I knew that even that would not stop the pain this time. The cut could get infected too. He needed to medicine and stitches.
“You’re very sweet to me,” I pointed out. “Right now, though, I don’t care. You need the stitches. I think the pot would really help, way better than I could. It would calm you, make you feel less pain, and I would be able to do it better without you flipping out.”
A slight breeze started to pick up, another sign of night coming in. He said nothing. It was more than enough to make me lean over him and grab the small baggie of pot and the other holding rolling papers. “I’ll be right back,” I said to him.
“Janice, really—”
“It will be okay,” I called back as I walked through and under the low tree branches. “I care about you too much to let that pain in you go on.” I felt awful speaking to him that way, but I needed to.
I found the ashes from the previous night as I rounded the small corner to the lake. I scanned over the grass, looking for the flint and the worn down stone. I knelt in the grass after spotting them near the ashes. Upon grabbing them, I also collected a small bundle of leaves and sticks.
I hit the two pieces together over the bundle I collected. It was harder this time to get it started. The small breeze was still present enough to fight my wishes for a spark. After a while of working up a sweat and repeatedly smashing the two stones together, a spark finally caught. Blocking it from the wind, I cradled it to life until the fire spread more. I waited a bit until I put heavier branches on it, relying on it to keep going.
I sat down next to the fire, still happy there was enough light in the sky for me. Taking a rolling paper out of the baggie, I stared at it. How do I do this? Casey knew how but asking him would be pushing it too far since he was already pissed. I was already feeling slightly guilty for wanting to get him high and now trying to achieve that.
I took a deep breath, thinking back the past few months at home and tried to remember. I watched my dad do this enough times I should remember.
I started to repeat what I saw him do so many times before. I looked down and rolled the small piece of paper and added a fraction of the pot from the other baggie. After that was finished and it looked similar to what dad would do, I stuck the one end of it over a small flame until it lit. Pulling it back, I stood, walking back to Casey.
I stepped past the barrier of swaying leaves and caught sight of Casey against the tree. I stopped, seeing his open expression and immediately felt worse. I saw how unsure he was of this. He met my eyes and covered his emotions with annoyance. He inhaled and exhaled uneasily as his eyes moved down to my hand.
“How did you know how to roll a joint?” he asked, his face turning confused. I sighed, moving next to him and sitting where I was before against the tree so I could explain.
“I always knew my dad hid things. When he killed mom and didn’t hide anything, I learned a lot about what those things were. The past months after her death, he started smoking it occasionally. A couple men would come over and smoke with him. This is how I knew he wasn’t kidding about killing me if I caused any problems. Those men were his ‘connections’ he referred to. They proved it to me,” I explained. Looking down at where I was holding the joint, I bit my lip. “Now, you need to smoke this,” I pushed, knowing it was ready in my hand for him.
I watched his eyes observe me carefully. It was as if he didn’t hear me say the last part. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I guess it never came up, and I didn’t see it as a big deal out of everything else in my life.”
“How did they prove to you that they were willing to kill you if you caused them any problems?” He seemed almost afraid to ask.
I hesitated in answering but knew he should know the truth. “They… They joined in when my dad hit or beat me. It really wasn’t much different from him hurting me. I was internally exhausted anyway.”
“Christ!” he exclaimed. “How could they—” He stopped speaking, cutting himself off. I saw his body go rigid and tense. He groaned in pain. His anger and my explanation put stress on his body, meaning he tensed. He stared at me, catching his breath.
I couldn’t wait any longer. “You need to smoke this,” I said, offering the pot to him.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
I watched him. I hated to do this to him as I watched his panicking expression, which wasn’t helping his pain or my internal pain either. “If you smoke this, that pain will begin to fade.”
“You never know if it’s just pot I am smoking.”
“Look, I know you are scared—”
“It’s more than being scared,” he said hastily.
“You think I want to get you high? Casey, trust me. Trust me. This pot is just pot. There is nothing else in it. This pot wasn’t being passed around at some party. It belonged to one of your students, and I doubt he was addicted to anything. You would have been able to tell.”
“You just… You still just never know,” he said in a nervous voice.
I took my free hand and brushed it through his hair, trying to get him to relax. I felt so bad for shoving it in his face, but his fear was because it happened to his cousin. “You’re right, we still don’t know. I do know though that I don’t want to see my man screaming, crying, and passing out.”
He took a second and closed his eyes. He sighed, opening them and meeting me with those deep brown pools. “Alright,” he whispered.
Taking the joint from my hand, he held it to his lips, sucking in before he pulled it away and coughed a few times, making him wince. He did that once more, but when he pulled it back, he smoothly let the smoke slip out from between his lips.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.
He met my eyes. Though I knew he was nervous, he tried lightening the mood. Purposefully, he gave me a sloppy smile. Dramatically and teasing, he said, “Oh fuck yeah…”
“Wow, that sure got to you fast,” I joked sarcastically, seeing his face go back to normal with him rolling his eyes. “Seriously, though, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I forgot the sensation it gives you. Still, though, I am not happy you made me do this.”
I groaned. “Do you know why I was pushing?”
“I do,” he said. “I know you didn’t want me suffering any more than I needed to.”
I was curious to know what it was like to smoke it. I needed to stay focused on my task, though. I needed to take care of him to the best of my ability.
After a little bit of letting it take effect, I watched him carefully. He was obviously more relaxed and seemed more carefree a few moments later. “Do you think you can move?” I asked, hesitant.
He paused and slowly tested it, leaning back and forth to see if he felt anything. His expression of that wonderful high didn’t break. He raised a brow at me and smiled. He held the joint back to his lips, taking one more hit before he moved to sit up on his knees. His brows dipped, and the smile disappeared, body freezing in place.
“It hurts?”
“I feel it, yeah. It hurts but not nearly as bad.”
“Hurts too much, you can’t make it to the fire?” I nodded in the direction it was burning.
We were both getting cold. The sun was nearly set, and the stars started to shine through the openings of the leaves. The fire I made glowed hot in the surrounding darkness. I was anxious to reach it with him.
“I can do it,” he said with confidence.
I pulled him with me to get it over with. I slipped my arm under his free arm and helped him to his feet. He grunted only once, which I took as a great sign. I guided him to the fire where I fell to my knees with him. He let himself gradually fall to his back, grunting.
I didn’t even need to ask if he was okay, as it turned out. He was relaxed, a solid smile breaking open when he brought the joint back to his lips. He sucked it in, raising his eyebrows before removing it from his lips, letting his arm fall and rest with the joint against his stomach. He presented a lazy smile to me.
“Are you okay?” I asked, unable to help myself.
He chuckled. “Never been better. I want to kiss you so badly, though! I know you want to do boring doctor work so your loss.”
I laughed. “I’ll be right back. I need to get the first-aid kit.”
I stood, walking back down the bank and finding my way back to the tree easily. I could just make out the outline of the white box and was sure if it was any later, the dark would have swallowed it. I grabbed the knife while I was at it too. Then, I returned to where he laid on his back next to the fire. There was a stronger smell around him, and it made me cringe slightly.
“You’re so hot,” he told me, giving me a wink.
I laughed with him at his words. After recovering from a state that left me slightly breathless, I smiled gently at him. “You’re quite attractive yourself, Mr. Sexy.”
“I want you,” he said simply, more seriously. The way he was staring at me made my throat dry. It was full of desire, his eyes holding want and excitement. He took another hit while holding eye contact with me. I knelt down next to him, needing to not get distracted. It was time to work.
I smirked and held up the white box, showing him I had the first-aid kit. “I’m not so sure you’re going to still want me after I’m finished with you.”
He hissed in a joking manner. “What a load of dirt. Well, I guess it depends on what you plan on doing to me,” he smirked.
“It shouldn’t be so bad. It will still hurt, though. I need to first remove the vine and the dress.”
“Well, I think I can handle that. Besides, you have put me through so much already, this will be cake. You’re always worth the pain,” he smiled sweetly at me.
“Good, I should hope so,” I laughed, looking down and opening the box. I scanned over all the little instruments and things I would need to heal his cut. I took an extra second, looking down so he wouldn’t see my scared expression.
I hadn’t grasped that if I made one little mistake, one wrong move, it could cause him pain. And to know that I would be the one to cause that… well, it made me even tempted to back out. I never did this before and didn’t know the right way to do it.
I glanced up at him and seeing his warm eyes convinced me I had to do this. That was all it took to get my mind back on track. Not only would I do this for him because of the pain. I told him I would always be there for him. That was something I would never lie about.
“Ready?” I asked.
With a nod from him, I got to work.