Chapter 27
As the night draws in and we all gather around the firepit, things seem a lot calmer. Maybe it’s because we feel like we have a plan for survival, maybe it’s just a healthy dose of optimism – probably, though, it’s the rum. We’ve all had a lot of rum.
Well, if the cameras are off, if no one’s watching, if the show’s gone dark… what’s the point in pretending any more? We may as well let our hair down.
‘If we’re stuck here, we may as well have fun,’ Honey suggests.
‘I thought we were having fun?’ I reply with a laugh.
‘More fun,’ she adds. ‘Let’s play some games. We do what the show would make us do. Only we get to make up our own rules.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Tony says. ‘Let’s ’ave a laugh.’
Well, she’s got a point. If we were on-air, show bosses would have us playing games like this. It will be more fun without the cameras, everyone can be themselves.
So that’s what we do. We feed the firepit with wood before taking our seats around it, each of us with our own cocktail. Turns out all those coconuts came in handy, we’re drinking a mixture of rum and coconut water – like we’re on a fancy holiday – and it’s glorious.
This is the closest we’ve come to feeling like we’re at a resort rather than in a nightmare.
The air smells like salt and smoke and booze, and when the breeze shifts, I catch the scent of Lockie’s skin.
It must be the sun cream he’s wearing – thankfully we still have our bottles of factor fifty – it smells delicious.
‘They always have contestants play something meaningful, and something horny,’ Honey muses.
‘Meaningful?’ Tony repeats. ‘Can’t we skip to horny?’
‘Let’s build up to that,’ Lockie says with a laugh.
Yeah, I think we might need a few more drinks before we tackle anything horny.
‘What about: two lies and a truth – I prefer to play it that way,’ Honey suggests. ‘Losers have to drink.’
‘He’ll be sloshed then,’ Camilla says, nodding towards Tony.
‘Erm, I’m great at games,’ Tony protests.
‘Whatever, I just mean you’re a loser,’ Camilla says.
He scowls at her. It’s hard to tell for sure but these two either despise each other, or they’re madly in love. Sometimes the two aren’t that dissimilar.
We start with Tony, he’s raring to go. He’s used to living his life on the small screen, so he thrives when the spotlight is on him.
He rubs his jaw thoughtfully.
‘All right, here are mine,’ he begins. ‘One: I once dated Dua Lipa. Two: I can speak fluent Portuguese. Three: I cried during Fast and Furious 7.’
Camilla doesn’t even blink.
‘The last one. Obviously,’ she says. ‘The other two are impressive, the last one is pathetic.’
‘That film was emotional,’ Tony claps back.
‘So I’m right?’ Camilla confirms.
‘Let’s just move on,’ Tony says.
So she is right.
Camilla’s turn is next. Hers are so on-brand.
‘I once had dinner with a duke, I was expelled from school for fighting, and I don’t like champagne,’ she offers up.
‘The first one is the truth,’ I say. ‘Because I cannot imagine you fighting.’
‘And everyone likes champagne,’ she replies. ‘Correct.’
Then Honey goes.
‘I have two degrees. I still sleep with a night light. And I think you’re all amazing.’
‘Aww, you’re so sweet,’ Ozzy says. ‘We love you too.’
‘Bit much,’ Camilla adds. ‘But, yes, okay. Lockie, what about you? Your turn.’
I take a sip of rum and feel the heat in my mouth, and the booze surge through my veins.
‘Okay, okay,’ he says, draining another coconut. ‘One: I always seem to get in trouble. Two: I lied on my application form for the show. Three: I’ve never been in love.’
‘You totally lied on your form. Everyone does,’ Honey says.
‘Oh yeah, what was the lie on yours?’ he replies.
She pretends to zip her lips closed and looks away.
‘Maybe it’s the last one,’ Camilla says. ‘Lockie, have you ever been in love?’
‘I kinda want everyone to answer that question,’ Honey adds.
Tony scoffs. ‘This is actually boring,’ he says. ‘Can’t we play the horny games now?’
I think I would probably rather take my chances with that than open up about love – or hear Lockie talk about his loves, for that matter.
‘Yeah, we could play something else,’ I say.
‘I know,’ Tony replies, grabbing one of the empty rum bottles. ‘Spin the bottle, truth or dare edition. I’ve seen the show before, that’s a popular one.’
Tony looks like a kid on Christmas morning, eyes wide, practically vibrating with excitement. Camilla sighs like she’s too posh for this but doesn’t move from her seat. Ozzy’s lounging back on his elbows.
‘Go on then,’ he says.
‘Yeah, I’m game,’ Honey adds.
Everyone looks over at me and Lockie.
‘I’m in if you are,’ he tells me. ‘We can’t be the only holdouts.’
‘Yeah, okay, let’s do it,’ I reply, emboldened by the rum.
Lockie lifts his coconut cup in a silent toast. I hold mine up too before taking another big gulp.
The first few rounds are harmless, silly and fun.
Honey is dared to drink from her coconut without using her hands, which she somehow manages by clamping it between her lips and throwing it back.
‘And that’s how you do it, babes,’ she announces proudly. ‘I’m here all week.’
‘We’re all here all week,’ Lockie replies. Everyone cracks up.
Tony gets a dare too – to fake the slo-mo walks the show often shows. He struts around, ever so slowly, absolutely nailing it. Even Camilla allows herself to be amused by him.
Everyone must be a bit sick of telling the truth – or we’re just so bored and drunk that we’re all choosing dare.
‘Ozzy, truth or dare?’ Tony says.
‘Dare,’ Ozzy replies. ‘Obviously.’
‘I dare you to give someone a sexy dance,’ Tony says. ‘You can choose who.’
I feel myself tense up a little. He’s not going to choose me, is he? I guess we were coupled up, when the show was still on-air, but it feels like a lot has changed since then.
‘Okay then, I choose… you!’
As Ozzy chooses his victim he points at them – and it’s Tony!
Tony laughs and protests and screams.
‘Ten out of ten for enthusiasm, mate!’ Tony says when Ozzy is done. ‘But you’re not my type.’
Eventually the bottle lands on Lockie.
‘Lockie, truth or dare,’ Honey says.
‘It has to be dare, doesn’t it?’ he says, grinning, far too confident for his own good.
Honey taps her finger on her chin, thinking.
‘Okay… I dare you to kiss my neck,’ she says. ‘Like you did Cleo’s.’
The laughter hushes off into something more serious.
My heart is pounding all of a sudden. Maybe it’s the rum, maybe it’s the way Lockie glances at me, like he’s looking for permission, or apologising or… I don’t know.
‘I’m waiting…’ she sings.
Lockie glances at me, eyes searching. It’s quick, but it’s there, like a silent question.
I shrug, pretending I don’t care. My stomach, however, is twisting itself into knots. And this time I don’t think the rum is to blame.
He leans toward her. Honey tilts her head, hair spilling over one shoulder.
The firelight glows against her skin. Somehow this moment seems much more romantic – perfect even.
He does it, he kisses her neck, slowly but confidently, for long enough that even Camilla lets out a whistle.
I hate that I notice how good he is at it.
Even watching it looks good. Oh, God, I’m jealous. I’m actually jealous.
Honey giggles, but her eyes dart to me, watching my reaction. I take another swig of my rum, trying to play it cool, but I’m jealous.
‘Okay,’ Honey says with a sigh. ‘Just as good as it looked when you did it to Cleo.’
Everyone laughs. Everyone except me.
I take another drink, hoping it will flush the feeling away.
Tony grabs the bottle next, spins it. It slows… and… it lands on me.
‘You’re up, Cleo,’ he says, smirking. ‘Truth or dare?’
‘If everyone else is choosing dare then: dare,’ I reply – also, if I choose truth, someone might ask me if that made me jealous, so I guess I’m choosing dare for the foreseeable.
Tony leans back, a grin spreading across his face.
‘I dare you and Lockie to kiss,’ he says. ‘Properly kiss.’
Lockie looks at me, serious now.
‘You don’t have to,’ he tells me. ‘I’ll do your forfeit.’
‘If Cleo won’t kiss you, then you have to kiss Honey,’ Tony replies.
The problem is, I want to kiss Lockie. I really want to. And I definitely don’t want to watch him kiss Honey.
I know, we’ve got a past, and it’s hard to imagine a future – not just together, but at all. We’re all stuck here so… what’s to lose? If kissing him, just to see how it feels, makes me feel a tiny bit better, then why not?
‘Okay,’ I say, trying for casual. ‘It’s just a game.’
Lockie moves closer, slow enough that my heart starts hammering. The fire crackles next to us, the heat warming my skin – well, it’s that or the anticipation. He pauses, inches away, giving me a chance to back out.
I don’t.
When his lips touch mine, everything else just…
fades. I can forget we’re on the island, that we’re stuck here, that we have a crowd of people watching us.
His hand cups my jaw with a tenderness that melts me and his lips taste so good, like rum and coconut.
I can’t resist meeting his tongue with mine.
I think I make a sound – something between a sigh and a laugh, and Lockie smiles against my mouth. Like it’s another one of our jokes.
It’s not a TV kiss. It’s not for the cameras. It’s real. Too real.
When we finally pull apart, no one breathes for a second.
‘Okay, my next dare better be to do that,’ Honey jokes as she fans herself with both hands.
Ozzy laughs, but there’s an edge to it. I try to laugh too, but my hands are shaking almost as much as my knees are. Lockie sits back down next to me, his thigh pressing against mine, and I’m terrified he’s going to feel it. How much that got to me.
The game goes on – because of course it does – but I can’t quite think straight.
The bottle spins, the dares get bolder, and the laughter gets louder.
No one else kisses but, through it all, Lockie and I keep finding ways to brush against each other.
It’s a knee, a shoulder, a glance that lingers just long enough.
The tension between us is undeniable now.
Ozzy has to strip down and run into the sea yelling, ‘I’m the king of the island!’ – which he does, and loves. If we did have a king of the island, it would most definitely be him. I’m not sure who the queen would be though.
Eventually Lockie gets dared to whisper something into my ear that would make me blush. He leans in, his breath hot against my skin, and says: ‘If we didn’t have an audience, that kiss wouldn’t have stopped there.’
My skin feels like it’s on fire.
‘Oh my God, what did you say?’ Honey squeaks. ‘It worked!’
‘I’ll never tell,’ Lockie says.
I don’t think I could if I wanted to.
Finally the game starts wrapping up. I think we’re all drunk, tired, and there’s something about when your stress levels dip, that makes you feel like you’re ready for bed.
When I sneak a glance at Lockie, he’s already looking at me, smiling like he always does, flashing his dimples, but something feels different this time.
It feels dangerous but… I don’t know. Real?
God, I hope it’s real. Or maybe it’s the rum, the isolation, the threat to our lives.
That’s what I try to tell myself, but I know I’m lying.
Because I don’t just fancy him. I like him. And here, on this island, with no escape, and no cameras to keep me in check, I don’t know if it’s a terrible idea or a great one.