Denying to herself what she thought happened...

[bookof_lies]

She finds the notebook sitting on her nightstand, the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes in the dimness of her basement room, just like it belongs there. She thinks it must be a joke, Billy snuck in the night before and put it there, or maybe even Hayley, but then she remembers that she'd never told anyone about it. Even if she had, they

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[bennet_beauty]

Jane had only been walking to subdue the rumblings, but when she came across Tracy looking as grave as she did, she was glad for having made the trek and she murmured a stern warning to her growing stomach to be calm. "Tracy," she remarked gently. "Tracy, it's Jane," she spoke, coming to her side and gently resting a hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

[bookof_lies]

She startles, drawing in a sharp, gasping breath and her eyes fluttering to blink away the fog of thoughts cluttering her brain. She isn't even sure how long she's been sitting there, and she feels a dizzying rush of adrenaline accompanying the shock of being found, her throat constricting and the book slipping from her hands to the sand. She gapes up at the woman, at Jane, her face flushing with embarrassment and a high, nervous giggle bubbling from her throat.

"I was just... I, um... I'm fine," she says finally, even though she hasn't been asked, her smile a little manic and very forced, hands fidgeting with her braided hair and shirt sleeves.

[bennet_beauty]

Jane sits slowly, not minding the sand any longer as she regarded Tracy curiously, not wanting to disagree, but it was obvious, even to an observer's eye, that something was wrong.

Jane did not move her hand yet and rather, kept it reassuringly upon Tracy's back, as though with Kitty or Mary. "Has something happened?"

[bookof_lies]

"No, nothing happened," she insists, her voice thin and small, a little rasp that makes her sound much younger than she usually allows. She turns back toward the water, her arms folding tightly across her middle and her knees drawing up to her chest, like she thinks maybe if she curls up small enough, she'll disappear.

There is a long stretch of silence where it is difficult to tell if she recognizes Jane's presence at all, the only sounds the crashing of the waves and the distant cawing of gulls. Finally she admits, "I found something," her eyes drawn to the book laying in the sand. It looks so harmless laying there, and she wonders if it has been here all along, waiting for the right time to show itself and make every bit of progress she's made since she'd woken up on the island completely worthless.

[jill_langston]

With her hands shoved into the pockets of her shorts, a pencil shoved through the thick bundle of hair at the nape of her neck, Jill wandered down the beach. Her sandles slapped against the bottoms of her feet as she walked, studying the figure on the beach as she approached. The girl sitting there was in her pajamas, but Jill had seen stranger things during her time on the island.

"Hi," she called as she approached, not wanting to startle the girl. She looked like there was something wrong, something bothering her.

[bookof_lies]

The woman is someone Tracy has never seen before. Tall and dark haired and friendly enough looking, but Tracy really wasn't prepared to deal with friendly just then. She had this crazy urge to bury her notebook in the sand. Maybe sit on it or try and hide it under her tank top. Anything to keep the woman from seeing it.

She wipes hastily at her eyes, plastering on a tense smile and turning her face toward the stranger without really lifting her eyes.

"Hi," she answers, and that's about as far as she gets. She doesn't know what else to say. Not when her mind is racing on overdrive, the book still clutched in her hands when she knows it has no business being there.

[jill_langston]

Even if the girl hadn't wiped at her eyes, Jill probably would have noticed something was wrong. A person could only spend so much time with Bob, trying to read his behavior before they got pretty decent at reading people in general. Considering she'd probably had one of her worst weeks on the island to date, Jill felt oddly sympathetic.

"You okay?" she asked, her eyes going to the book held in the girl's hands briefly before she looked back at her face. She was pretty. Young, definitely young, but pretty.

[bookof_lies]

"Oh, yeah... I'm fine," she insists, pressing her journal to her chest and folding her arms self-consciously across it, trying to hide as much of it as she could.

[nevergrowsup]

As a general rule, little boys rarely watch where they're going. They stumble or amble or leap their way through life, not paying much attention to what things they may happen to bump.

Peter was walking backward along the beach, bare feet leaving perfectly turned-about footprints. It was like looking at where he was going and where he'd been all at once. He was so engrossed that his next step backwards sent him stumbling back against someone.

[bookof_lies]

She hadn't even seen him coming, lost in thought and memory and lulled by the waves, so it wasn't until he was tumbling over her legs that she noticed him.

"Ow!" she shrieked, letting out a pained yelp and glaring at the tangle of boy-limbs as she tried to disentangle herself from him, "God, watch it!"

[nevergrowsup]

"Sorry.." He scrambled to his feet with the sort of grace that implied he fell down quite a bit (which Peter most certainly did). "I was walking backwards."

Peter put a hand out to help her out, even as he peered very closely at her. "I know you."

[bookof_lies]

"Yeah, Peter. You know me," Tracy mumbled, breathing out an exasperated sigh and dusting sand off her legs, notebook held discreetly at her side as she took his hand and hauled herself to her feet. Well, she hoped it was discreet, but with all the nervousness, it was hard to tell.

"Don't walk backward down the beach. You're gonna end up killing someone or something," she said, pushing strands of hair out of her face and smoothing out her clothes, still scowling even though she's a little more reluctant to be mad now that she's seen who the boy is.

[billy_costigan]

Billy had been out for one of his runs that morning - he did them about every second day - and for reasons he sometimes cursed himself for, he'd taken to running on the fucking beach a lot. Sand made it harde and the feeling of working that hard was good. Purging, in a way. It also had the advantage that all you needed to clean up was walk to one side and into the water

[bookof_lies]

"Nothing," she mutters, refusing to look at him as she sits down the notebook in the sand at her hip, on the side furthest away from him. "Don't call me that," she decides, for no other reason than she feels like being contrary.

Truthfully, she doesn't mind it. Anything he calls or, or anything he does, no matter how annoying or overprotective. Most of the time it makes her feel safe, but right now it only makes her feel sad.

[billy_costigan]

The 'nothing' was clearly not true and that made him think that the protest about the nick-name wasn't entirely true either and he got a sudden flash of a teenaged boy telling his mother to never call him William again because that was his dad's name. That had bit a fit of temper. On both their parts, to be honest.

"Nothing isn't too bad," he said. "Could be worse." He wasn't really sure why the fuck he said that, but he had to say something...

[bookof_lies]

That got him an eye roll and a mumbled, "Gee, thanks."

Sighing, her skinny arms and legs folded up toward her chest, she let her head drop to his shoulder and scowled at nothing in particular. If he brought it up later, she'd totally deny it, but she needed it now, if only for a second.

"This place sucks."