Castaways Read Free Page B

cast furtive glances in her direction. Troy seemed oblivious. Ryan was checking out Jeff, rather than Pauline. And Matthew .. .
    Matthew was also staring at Pauline, but his expression was one of contempt.
    Despite the warm sun on her skin, Becka shivered. She glanced at Jerry to see if he was also captivated by Pauline's aerobics, then wondered why she cared, Even so, she felt relieved when he turned his attention to her and smiled.
    "When this airs," he said, "I'll be amazed if Troy gets any screen time."
    "Why?"
    "Because they'll have to bleep everything he says. Dude swears more than a sailor."
    Becka, Ryan, and Shonette laughed. Noticing them, Troy walked over and joined the group. He plopped down onto the sand and scowled. Becka studied the tattoos covering his forearms, back, and chest. Most of them were basic black, and the ink had faded in spots.
    "What's wrong?" Shonette asked him. "You got your hat back."
    "I need a fucking cigarette," Troy said. "Thirty days of this shit without a fucking smoke? What the hell was I thinking, man?"
    Jerry brushed white sand from his forearms. "Why didn't you just bring some cigarettes as your one luxury item?"
    "Because the fuckers at the network made me pick between my hat and my smokes."
    "But a hat is clothing," Becka said.
    "They didn't see it that way, and I don't go anywhere without my fucking hat." "Why not?" Jerry asked.
    "Because it's my lucky fucking hat!" Troy's tone was incredulous, as if Jerry should have already known that. "I've traveled all over the fucking place, and this hat is the only thing that's been with me each and every time."
    "You're from Seattle, right?" Becka asked.
    "Yeah. But I moved around a lot. I was born in New York. Brackard's Point, armpit of the fucking world. Me and my older brother, Sherm, ran away from home when I was fourteen. Our parents didn't give a fuck. We went from New York to Florida, and stayed there for a while. Then we lived in fucking Texas. Then Wisconsin, which was even worse than fucking Texas. Eventually, we ended up in Seattle. Been there ever since. My hat stayed with me the whole fucking time."
    "It's funny," Jerry said. "Seeing as how you've lived in Seattle for so long, I would think you'd be craving a Starbucks caramel macchiato rather than cigarettes."
    Troy scowled. "And you'd be wrong. I hate that fucking shit. Starbucks tastes like hot cat piss. Whatever happened to just plain old coffee? Black, no flavors or fancy names that sound like French and Italian run through a fucking meat grinder? This country is going down the fucking tubes. Not every person from Seattle is a Starbucks-loving asshole. I hate Starbucks. Give me fucking Folgers any day of the week. If I want vanilla, I'll eat some fucking ice cream. You know what I'm saying?"
    "I guess so." Jerry shrugged. "I kind of like their iced cappuccinos."
    "So," Becka said, trying to change the subject, "I bet your brother will be pretty excited to see you on TV, then?"
    Troy lowered his head and stared at the sand. "Not really. Dumbass got in trouble a few years back and had to bail. Moved his ass to Pennsylvania and got shot during a fucking bank robbery."
    "I'm sorry."
    "Don't be. It was his fault. Stupid son of a bitch. He was always doing crazy shit like that. You should have seen what he got up to in Seattle."
    Sensing that Troy's mood had soured even more than normal, Becka tried to distract him again by returning to the original subject. "You could have hidden some cigarettes underneath your hat."
    "Nah," Troy said. "Wouldn't have worked. They checked us all pretty good. What'd you bring as your luxury item?"
    Becka blushed. "My diary."
    "No shit? That's cool."
    "I've been keeping them since I was a little girl."
    Troy turned to Jerry, Ryan, and Shonette. "What'd you guys bring?"
    Before they could answer, Stuart, one of the field producers, grabbed a battery-powered megaphone and shouted directions.
    "Okay, everyone, if you could please gather together here,