Day 5

I opened my eyes. Sunlight filtered between the cracks of the lean-to. The pressure on my bladder – something I hadn’t felt in a while – confused me for a second, and then I smiled.
I need to go to the bathroom.

I left the lean-to without waking Jiho and walked into the woods. I squatted behind a tree, wrinkling my nose at the strong smell of ammonia coming from my pee. When I pulled my pants back up, I cringed at the dampness between my legs.

Jiho was awake and standing next to the lean-to when I returned. “Where were you?” he asked.

I grinned and said, “Peeing.”

He high-fived me. “I need to go, too.”

When he came back, we went to the breadfruit tree and scooped up three lying on the ground. We sat down and ate our breakfast.

“Let me see your head,” Jiho said.

I leaned over and Jiho combed through my hair with his fingers until he found the cut.

“It’s better. You probably should have had stitches, though. I can’t see any dried blood, but your hair is so dark it’s hard to tell.” He pointed to my cheek. “The bruises are fading. That one is turning yellow.”

Jiho’s appearance had improved, too. His eye was no longer swollen shut, and his cuts were healing well. He’d fared better than me thanks to his seatbelt. His face – very handsome, though still quite boyish – would bear no permanent scars from the plane crash. I didn’t know if I could say the same, but I wasn’t concerned about that at the moment. After breakfast, Jiho made another fire.

“Pretty amazing, city boy,” I said, squeezing his shoulder.
 
He smiled, adding small pieces of firewood and coaxing the flames higher, clearly proud of himself. He wiped the sweat out of his eyes and said, “Thanks.”

“Let me see your hands.”

He held them out to me, palms up. Blisters covered the raw, calloused skin, and he winced when I touched them.

“That has to hurt.”

“It does,” he admitted.

The fire filled our shelter with smoke, but it wouldn’t go out when it rained. If we heard a plane, we could knock it down and throw green leaves on the fire to create smoke.
I had never gone so long without a shower, and I smelled horrible. “I’m going to try and clean up,” I said. “You have to stay here, okay?”

He nodded and handed me a short-sleeved T-shirt from his backpack. “Do you want to wear this instead of your long-sleeved shirt?”

“Yes. Thanks.” The T-shirt would fit me like a dress, but I didn’t care. “I’d give you some shorts, but I know they’re too big.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “The shirt will really help.”

I walked along the shore, stopping to take off all my clothes only when I could no longer see Jiho or the lean-to. I scanned the blue, cloudless sky.

Now would be an excellent time for a plane to fly overhead. Surely, someone would notice the woman on the beach.

I waded into the lagoon, and the fish scattered. The sunburn on my hands and feet had faded into a dark tan, which contrasted with my white arms and legs. My hair hung to my shoulder blades in a rat’s nest of tangles. I washed my body with my hands, and then retrieved my clothes from the shore, rinsing them out in the ocean. I finger-combed my hair and wished for a ponytail holder.

Slightly cleaner when I came out of the water, I put my wet underwear and bra on, and pulled Jiho’s T-shirt over my head. It hung down to mid-thigh so I didn’t bother with my jeans.

“I know I’m not wearing pants,” I explained when I returned to the lean-to. “But I'm hot, and I want to let them dry.”

“No big deal, Jennie.”

“I wish we had something to catch fish with. There are tons of them in the lagoon.” My mouth watered and my stomach growled.
 
“We could try and spear them. After I get cleaned up, we can look for some long sticks. Our firewood supply is low, too.”

Jiho came back to the lean-to five minutes later, with wet