Samantha Connolly - I Will Survive

She looked down, checking her clipboard. “Nick will be setting challenges for you while you’re here and there’ll be a certain amount of points going for those. But sixty percent of your scores will come from audience votes so in the end, they’re the ones who will really be deciding who wins.”

Jessie nodded along with the others and then risked a peek at Nick. He was looking down at the sand, apparently listening, and she let her gaze linger on his face. The blue-green eyes framed with dark lashes, the thick tousled hair, the laugh lines at the corner of his eyes matched by the brackets on either side of his mouth. His features were so familiar from all those evenings on the sofa laughing along with his modest self-deprecating comments that she had to remind herself that he was a stranger to her. Then there was also the fact that, much as she’d told herself not to have any expectations, she hadn’t been able to resist the occasional fantasy regarding what would happen on the island. She’d imagined that, as she met each challenge with grit and determination, Nick’s admiration for her would grow and one night as they were gazing into the fire he’d suggest that just because their adventure was coming to an end didn’t mean their friendship had to.

“I’ve shared more with you in two weeks,” he’d say, “than with people I’ve known my whole life.” And then maybe he’d take her hand in his and lean towards her…

Except that now he thought she was some sort of hysterical bimbo.

Great start.

She suddenly remembered Kenny’s camera and she turned her attention back to Lois, hoping Kenny hadn’t caught her looking too moony.

Lois was still talking. “The first show goes out in two days, on Friday, and it’s going to be one hour a night every night after that, made up of edits from the handhelds, the Island Eyes and the confession cam. That’s what I’ll be spending my days doing, just in case you think I’m going to be out there drinking piña coladas on deck while you’re scrounging for grubs and berries here.”

They all smiled dutifully.

Lois came over to Jessie and handed her something that looked like a button on a shoelace. “Here, wear this around your neck.” She showed her a small black box. “This is the transmitter. Just clip it onto your dress or underwear or whatever. I want you all miked-up all the time, though please remember to take them off when you go in the water. Say something, Jess.”

“I prefer to be called Jessie, not Jess.”

“Got it,” said Kenny, tapping his headphones.

“Good,” said Lois. “Don’t worry, you’ll soon forget you have it on. Now, I think that’s it. I’ll be coming back and forth from the yacht anyway to iron out any wrinkles as they occur. Kenny will stop filming in the evenings and start up again at 7:00 a.m. so you’ll have the nights to yourself.” She treated them to another feline smile. “Apart from the Island Eyes, of course. Are there any questions?”

“So we haven’t really started yet?” asked Jessie. “I mean, will that stuff in the water be used?”

“We’ll use whatever’s good,” said Lois disingenuously. “So, welcome to your new home away from home and good luck to all of you.”

Silence followed and they all looked at each other until Lois made shooing gestures. “Go,” she said impatiently. “That’s it.”

Nick took a step towards Jessie and held out his hand. “I’m Nick Garrett,” he said. “Welcome to the island.”

“Jessie Banks.” Their eyes met as she introduced herself but she looked away quickly, infuriated to feel herself blushing.

“You’ve met the others?”

Jessie nodded, smiling. If Nick wanted to pretend that that little incident in the water had never happened, she could go along with that.

“Okay then,” said Nick, turning to Malcolm and Cindi. “Why don’t we go and show Jessie what we’ve done so far?”

Jessie let the others go ahead of her and she turned hurriedly to Lois and Kenny.

“I’m sorry to have to ask,” she said, “but I really could use a drink of water.”

Lois pointed at Nick. “Ask him,” she mouthed. “We’re not here.”

Jessie looked at Nick’s retreating back and muttered an oath under her breath.

“For the record,” came Kenny’s calm voice behind her, “the microphone you’re wearing is very strong.”

Jessie blushed again and started up the beach after Nick.

“I WAS JUST WONDERING—”

“Malcolm constructed the second eave of his shelter by himself,” said Nick. “He’s a fast learner.”

“That’s great,” said Jessie. Her throat was getting more parched by the minute but the others weren’t giving her any opportunity to broach the subject. They were too eager to show her the shelters they’d built the night before.

Jessie nodded politely as Malcolm extolled the virtues of vegetation as an insulating material but her eyes were darting around, trying to locate the supplies.

How rude is this, she thought, inviting someone to your home and not offering them a drink? Even if the home in question is only a smoldering fire and three V-shaped tents made out of sticks and grass.

Her disenchantment must have showed on her face.

“I hope you’re not getting cold feet,” Nick teased her. “I had to give a pep-talk to the others last night and I’m going to tell you the same thing now. The competition and the prize money, that’s only a small part of our stay here. Despite what my producer might think, this is not a game show. It’s going to be the real thing. A lot of my viewers are no strangers to survival situations themselves and I’m not going to cheat them by taking shortcuts. We’ve come onto this island with no supplies and we won’t be getting any help. It’s going to be up to us.”

“Speaking of supplies,” Jessie cut in. “I was wondering if I could get a drink of water. I got salt in my throat and it’s also much hotter here than I’m used to.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Nick. “Cindi, Malcolm, let’s see if you remember what to do. What’s the first step of purifying water?”

“Filter it,” gushed Malcolm.

“Right, and what do you do then?” Nick looked at Cindi who was fiddling with the skirt of her uniform.

“Is it heating it?” She squinted. “I forget.”

Nick tsked. “Okay, Malcolm can show you. Get to work.”

Today maybe, thought Jessie. Her dress was beginning to dry in the sun and she was longing to have a look around the island. The beach stretched enticingly in either direction and she could see palm trees swaying in the distance. But she couldn’t concentrate on any of it when her mouth felt like it had an inbuilt dehumidifier. She moved her tongue, trying to dredge up some saliva.

“What are you doing?” asked Nick.

Jessie stopped masticating. “Nothing,” she said vehemently before she realized he was talking to the others. She coughed and mimicked his look of concerned curiosity.

“We’re boiling water,” Malcolm said hesitantly.

Nick walked over and kicked apart the embers of the fire. “I lit this fire,” he pointed out. “I want to see if you can do it.”

Another milligram of Jessie’s patience slipped away.

“So we need tinder materials,” said Malcolm enthusiastically. “And something to produce friction.”

“That’s good,” said Nick. “I hope you’re paying attention Cindi, I’ll expect you to do it next time.”

Cindi gave him a flirtatious grin. “I pay attention to everything you say, Nick.”

“Apparently not,” he retorted playfully.

Jessie fiddled with a strand of her hair, considering the possibility that she might actually shrivel up and die of dehydration, right there on television.