Not an hour went by where he didn't wish that he could get off the damn island. But he had to admit that the view wasn't too bad. Whenever he didn't read his stash of illustrated science magazines (which had survived the crash, much to his relief) he kept staring at the greatest view the island had to offer.

Her long, chestnut brown hair was thick, layered and lustrous. She had the most interesting eye color he'd ever seen; sea green with a golden ring around the pupils. Her eyes were surrounded by thick, long eyelashes which only favorably augmented them.

There were several good-looking women on the island, but no one was as breathtakingly beautiful as this one. He couldn't and didn't want to resist the urge of introducing himself, so he walked up to her without hesitation, on the third day.

"What's your name?" he asked her confidently, with an arrogant grin. She was lying on a towel, sunbathing.

"Guess" she spoke in an Australian accent, making her all the more irresistible. She sat up and took off her sun glasses to get a good look at him, shading her eyes.

"I think you're a Sarah"

"No" she shook her head slowly, smiling in a captivating manner that threatened to give him an erection. She was wearing a white, halter neck bikini top and bikini bottoms in the same color. Her attire didn't exactly serve to diminsh his attraction to her.

"Lucy?" he took a seat next to her, intentionally brushing his knee against hers.

"Too ordinary" she smiled mysteriously, her beautiful eyes squint half shut. "Think more along the lines of old-fashioned…"

"Really? That's a shame. A girl like you deserves an outstandingly beautiful name" he decided not to spoil her too much after that comment. Compliments were necessary to catch a woman's attention; but in moderation.

"Well, would you say Jolene is outstanding enough?"

"I'd say that's a perfect name for someone like you" he smirked, raising his eyebrow in an amused manner. Jolene was the name of a song about a stunning woman who could have any man she wanted. How ironic that this beauty lived up to her name.

"Well, if you excuse me, I need to get my daily dose of vitamin D now" she lay down again, putting on her sunglasses.

"Aren't you gonna ask what my name is?" he grinned, amused by her attempt at playing hard to get. He knew that she'd cave in eventually.

"I already know. It's George"

"Uh, I don't know who the hell you're mistaking me for sweetheart, but he better be good-looking" he chuckled, certain that this George guy couldn't hold a candle to himself.

"I just assumed that your name is George, because you remind me of that monkey, Curious George. Because of all the questions you ask" a smile played on her pouty lips.

He ignored the twinge of irritation, thinking that she was being sassy on purpose to impress him. "You're wrong, babe. But it's okay, you're pretty, you don't need to be smart"

She let out a snort of laughter, taking off her sun glasses again and chewing on the tip in a provocative manner. "Actually, I think your name is Cassander. I heard someone calling you that on the first day"

"Just Cass, is enough. No need tire yourself out for the sake of a name, sweetness" he grinned widely, feeling smug over the fact that she'd kept his name in mind. It had to mean that the attraction was mutual.

She turned around to lay down on her belly, exposing her well-shaped buttocks. He felt blood rushing to his groin.

"Ah, zere you are!" a familiar, throaty voice with a heavy french accent shouted in the distance.

He closed his eyes in frustration, wishing that the bitch would get off his back. How typical of her, to show up now that he was in the process of getting friendly with this Australian beauty.

"You ar' supposed to 'elp us with ze lunch!" Saskia, the belgian chick, exclaimed. She accidentally splashed white sand all over them, as she stomped over to them. "I've been waiting for fifteen minutes!"

They, or the self-proclaimed leaders of the survivors (annoying jerks), had created some kind of schedule where everyone had to help out if they wanted food.

"Fine, I will!" Cass snapped irritably, getting up reluctantly and resisting the urge to curse. He wouldn't have held his tongue, if it wasn't for Jolene. Wouldn't want the lady to get a bad impression of him.

"You can make ze sandwiches" Saskia told him curtly as they reached the kitchen. The kitchen was in fact a large tent, where they'd put all of the coolers and thermal bags they'd been able to find inside the air plane.

"How many?"

"Make as many you can, until I tell you it's enough" Saskia responded brusquely, taking out bread and butter from one of the coolers.

He hated this bossy, loud-mouthed chick. He hated these kinds of women in general; whiny ultra feminists who felt like they had to dress like dudes to prove their point. His eyes swept over Saskia's messy, jet-black, pixie cut and her clothes; army pants, heavy black boots and a worn-out t-shirt with the letters "Rise Against" written over it.

He started buttering the bread, wondering what his family and friends would say if they could see him now. They'd probably laugh their asses off. But then again, he hated his family and didn't have any close friends, so he couldn't care less.

"Put this on ze bread" Saskia held out a can of pickles towards him. A thought sprung to his mind as he grasped it.

"What kind of meat would you like me to put on your sandwich?" he asked her with a supressed smirk, suspecting that she was a vegetarian… or a vegan. Same shit, in his opinion.

"I don't eat meat" she spat, flaring her nostrils and looking at him with open distaste.

"Oh, I didn't know" he said in an innocent tone, sneering internally.

He was looking forward to the day when they ran out of food and had to resort to hunting, just so he could see how unwilling she'd be to eat meat then. But then again, he doubted they'd be stuck here for that long. He was positive that whoever was searching for them, would find them in a couple of days.

"Ugh, merde!" Saskia had spilled orange juice all over her T-shirt, while pouring the juice into small plastic cups.

"Well, if you're going to start cursing, I'd like to know how you say bitch in belgian?" Cass smirked mischievously. "There's someone in particular I'd like to say this to"

"There's no such thing as a 'belgian' language" she snorted, vexedly wiping her T-shirt with a towel. "Our citizens either speak german, dutch or french. I come from a french-speaking region called Wallonia. So if it's the french word for bitch you'd like to know, I won't tell you"

"Why not?"

"Because you should 'ave the guts to say it in your own language"

A hispanic guy with dark, curly hair entered the tent. He was about the same age as Cass. "Are you done with these?" he pointed at the tray with the plastic cups.

"Yez, take them out!" Saskia told him irritably, still fretting over her T-shirt as if it was made out of gold. The guy took the tray and carried it outside, shooting a quizzical look at Cass over his shoulder.

Cass shrugged at him and hastily turned his laugh into a hacking cough. When he was done buttering all of the bread slices, the guy came back into the tent and took a seat beside him, helping Cass put turkey and pickles on the sandwiches.

The guy reminded him of that actor in Teen Wolf (his sister was an avid fan of the show), Tyler Posey, with his dark, deep set eyes, olive complexion and chiseled jawline.

"So, where do you hail from?" Cass asked the guy, never having spoken to him before.

"Mexico, but I've lived in Los Angles for ten years now. First time I set foot on an air plane and it crashes" he responded, shaking his head regretfully. "Dios mio, never again"

"So what brought you to Australia?"

"I wanted to visit a friend" he shrugged, but something flickered across his eyes and he looked down on his knees. Cass didn't question him anymore. They all had their reasons for going to Australia. Sure, they'd landed on some deserted island in the pacific ocean instead of their desired destination, but shit happened. They'd get to Australia eventually once they were rescued. In the mean time, all he had to do was play the friendly, average Joe guy.

"Anyway, I'm Alejandro" the guy said, placing the sandwiches in a tray. "Let me know if you need help with anything else"

"Will do"

He watched Alejandro leave the tent, thinking it was a good thing that he wasn't the only one who had secrets.