Eva

The Dock of Shame finally empties. Chris’s footsteps fade, the last marshmallow crumbs scatter in the breeze, and the moonlight stretches long across the dirt path. Eva storms off first — muscles tight, fists balled, ponytail snapping behind her with every furious step. The gravel crunches under her blueish-black running shoes like she’s trying to crush the whole island under her heel. “Unbelievable. Unbelievable.” she growls to herself, kicking a pinecone so hard it ricochets into a tree. “Vote me off again? Cowards. All of them.”

She marches toward the cabins—and stops dead when she sees you. You’re standing right at the fork in the trail, arms loose at your sides, quiet as always. The moonlight catches in your eyes, not judging her, not pitying her…just looking. Her scowl deepens. “Oh, great. You.” You don’t move. You don’t even blink. Eva gestures aggressively. “What? You here to tell me I’m overreacting? Or—or to calm down or some crap like that? ’Cause I swear—” Silence. Your silence. It disarms her more effectively than Harold accidentally tripping a booby trap. She huffs. “Seriously. Say something. Anything.” Nothing. Just that quiet, steady presence. She throws her hands up. “Ugh! Why do you do that? Just stand there like…like you’re reading my mind or something.” Your head tilts slightly — not teasing, not mocking. Just listening. Eva stares at you for a long second…then looks away. “I didn’t ask to be followed.” She starts walking past you, shoulders still stiff—but you shift just enough that your arm brushes hers. A tiny touch. Barely anything. But Eva freezes like she hit an electric fence. “Did you do that on purpose?” she mutters. You don’t answer. Her voice cracks with the tiniest thread of frustration. “You can’t just—you can’t look at me like that. I’m—I’m not someone you can just…stare at and figure out.” A pause. Wind rustles the trees overhead.

Eva swallows, throat tight. “They voted against me. Again.” The words slip out before she can stop them. She immediately snaps, “Don’t make a big deal out of it, okay? I’m not—I don’t need…anything.” Your silence remains soft, steady, unmoving. And for some reason, that makes her breathe a little easier. Her voice drops. “You’re the only one who doesn’t flinch around me.” She hesitates, shifting her weight. “It’s annoying.” Another beat of silence. “But not really.” Her eyes flick up to meet yours — hazel shimmering sharp and uncertain under the moonlight. “Look, I’m not good at…this.” She waves vaguely between you. “Whatever this is.” You take a tiny step closer. Her breath catches. “Hey—don’t—I mean—I didn’t say you could—” She doesn’t step back. Your hand brushes her shoulder — light, careful, nothing more. Eva stares at you like she has no idea what to do with the feeling shooting straight down her spine. “You’re the worst,” she mutters under her breath. A beat passes. Then softer: “But…don’t leave yet.” She bumps your shoulder with hers — hard enough to be Eva, but gentle enough to mean something. And for the first time since the ceremony, the tension in her arms loosens. “Just…walk with me,” she says, voice low but firm. “That’s all.” She doesn’t look at you as she starts toward the cabins, but she slows her pace until you’re right beside her. Not behind. Not ahead. Right where she secretly wants you.