A warm breeze shook Stella, blinking eyes focusing on the blazing blue sky above, the salty ocean spray tickling her nose. Her legs were neatly tucked under her, the white sun dress she had salvaged from her sinking luggage light in the wind. Grains of sand were plastered into her golden locks, whipping against her face. Mindlessly, she scratched at her leg, where a large horsefly lazily flew away, encouraging the look of discust on the girl's face. Her stomach howled, craving a bowl of any generic store brand, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Lucky Charms, she'd even be thankful for some Cheerios. A couple of survivors were chattering amungst themselves, gathering fruit and napping, as she just had. She couldn't bring herself to make friends with these people, worrying that if it was a life-or-death situation, she would have to eat one of her friends. Stella's face reddened, reminding herself that those things only happened in movies, but something still held her back. There was a shyness about her, reduced to two old shirts, a white sun dress, and a pair of horribly ripped jeans, she felt all of her material possesions slipping away. Maybe it was a good thing, maybe she was growing, Stella convinced herself over and over, she would become a person of substance because of this. A smile played on her lips, starting to remember her dream from the nap, one where she and Livia were meeting Josh and his friend to go to prom, the ultimate treat for the seniors.

Heart filled with warm thoughts of the spectacular dance in store for her, Stella wandered into the small shelter, taking cover from the burning sun. Since they had crash landed a month ago, Stella's freckles had at least tripled, and her skin darkened a several shades. That was a good thing, at least, she thought, since almost everyone she knew who was tan was either using bronzor or using a tanning machine. Heat wafted in from the sand baking in the sun, light color absorbing the light and reflecting it to the bottoms of their feet. She missed the cold feel of tile beneath her, walking barefoot through the house, or wearing shoes that weren't half-gone. Stella squinted across the beach, where the handful of people were strewn about, trying to survive best they could. The horizon was clear, a large bird swooping down and spearing a silver fish, sunlight glinting off of it in every direction. At least he's got a good meal tonight.

Lindsay looked at up the sky, which was still the same color as it was ten minutes ago. The sun shone as bright as ever, and she could feel the first fringes of skin peeling from her shoulders.

She decided to move away from the sun. She looked at Matthew, and figured he would be okay, playing with his little friend, a girl of about his age. She felt a twinge of jealousy, how easily he had made friends, and she didn't. And then she remembered what was going on, and how childish it was of her to envy a small child.

She went outside the doorway of a small hut they had wordlessly constructed out of palm fronds and bamboo. From there, she saw a couple of teenagers her age, gathering fruit.

She wiped the mascara from underneath her eyes, and ran her fingers through her hair, making sure it wasn't too completely ruined. Then she plodded over, glancing at the two. She determinedly picked up a rock, but it was too heavy to throw without promise of injury. So she sighed, and started attempting to climb up the tree. She failed the first time, and winced as she slid down the trunk, her hands burning fervently. She gritted her teeth, and, using a ripped peice of her sleeve as a sling, was able to wriggle near the top of the tree.

She smiled, for the first time since she found refuge on the beach. She saw the entire beach from where she stood, and it was actually... beautiful. Maybe there was hope after all.

Lindsay laughed as she dropped an entire bunch of unidentifiable fruit down to the others, and wriggled back down the trunk.

"I guess I learned things at cheer camp, after all," she chuckled.

------------------------

Matthew smiled at the girl, a hopeful glimmer shining in his chocolate eyes. "I'm Matthew... by the way." He offered his hand to her for a handshake.

((Fail.))

Sarah's eyes started to glow slightly as she shook Matthew's hand. "I'm Sarah," she said, grinning stupidly. "Now that you're not a stranger any more... do you wanna go explore? Maybe gather some twigs and stuff for fire? I'm bored and I really want to do something." She released his hand. "But first, how about that shirt you promised me? "

~

Jason stood up, only pausing for a moment to deliberate whether or not to go help the others. He wouldn't be much use with a broken arm, but he could still try. He sighed, feet kicking up sand as he walked over to the group. A weak smile was splayed across his pale face. "Hi," he said, not without blushing. "Can I be of any a$sistance?" 

"All right. Sounds fun," Matthew replied happily.

Matthew ran into the makeshift hut, a smile on his face. He had a messy pile of things he kept from the crash, which was very little. At the very bottom of the pile was a small, male's red tee shirt. There was nothing very special about it, and it smelled of fresh, briny seawater, though it was dry.

"Here ya go," he chirped, tossing Sarah the shirt.

----------------------

Lindsay chuckled.

"Well, I'd prefer to be called Lindsay, over cheerleader. Nice to meet y'all," she said quaintly, stuffing a round, fleshy fruit to her face. "I figure sulking wasn't the best thing I could do to be of a.ssistance."

((<33 Thanks. I'll edit skeleton in in a second. And should I like. xD Pop out of a bush or something? Be found p*censored*ed out and scratched out/with a concussion near this infamous tree? xD Or like. Swim in from the ocean. Lol. I kind of like being found near the tree, either hurt, sleeping, or like. Something xD))

Name;Kiri Summers

Age;17

Gender;Female

Personality; Somewhat bipolar. Usually eccentric and happy, sometimes drops into deep depressions or hatred spells, can come off as annoying, or insane. She has a good side to her, if you can find it.

History; Is a... mystery? o3o

Crush/BF/GF;None, but she is a hopeless romantic. c:

Other;Enjoys long walks on the beach. /rimshot

Looks: Short brown hair in a bob, with bangs that seem to shake continuously. She has light green eyes, and long black eyelashes. She has a huge grin that stretches her thin pink-red lips. Her eyebrows arch thinly. She's kind of short lD

One of the boys from the crash stumbled in, cursing, prompting Stella to look up, surprised, curls bouncing. He made a joke about mosquitos, starting to tense up after that, studying her as he waited for her to respond. Initially, she had been confused when he started to tense, then realized he had mentioned mosquitos being the death of him, death being a very touch-and-go subject on the island. Trying to relax the vibe of the small fort, Stella smiled, letting out a small laugh. "Oh, me too, definately. I'm surprised I have any blood left in me from them!" Her mind buzzed, trying to remember the boy's name, never one good for those. Personally, she despised having her name forgotten, so she hated forgetting others'. It was too bad she had a short attention span. "I'm so sorry, but what was your name?" Stella felt her face reddening, but hoped that her fading sunburn and increasing freckles would hide anything. Even under the shade of the palm thicket of a roof, heat radiated off of the sand, making her skin crawl with warmth. She missed the relief of a cold shower, how everything seemed fresh and new when the coolness of a world blanketed in snow, icy snowflakes spiraling into her hair. Ohio was worlds away from the desert island, a beautiful, cold wonderland.

{ Sorry. o3o; }

Matthew laughed. "Alright!" He laughed, and turned 180 degrees. He'd never peek at a girl that was changing. He was under the impression that girls had cooties.

He was glad he gave her the shirt, though, cooties or not. The way she had smiled when he gave her the shirt gave him tingles inside.

---------------

"Alright," she agreed. "Maybe we can find a freshwater spring," she smiled halfheartedly. Flirting just wasn't really on her list anymore, with the death of her boyfriend. A small tear was gathering in the pinch of her left eye, but she blunk it away quickly.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I wouldn't be happy, either, but dying friendless doesn't sound too enjoyable," she muttered morbidly, a certain sadism in her voice.