A/N: I am a horrible, horrible human being for not updating in ten months. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, please do. I meant to post this chapter much earlier, but I wanted to keep editing it because the last scene just wouldn't come out right. Be sure to read the Author's Note at the end and don't forget to review! Sorry again for being MIA for so long!

Chapter 6: The Kiss

How dare he! That jerk. That fiend. What was he playing at? Thinking he could toy around with her just like that. How dare he. How dare he!

Eliza paced back and forth in the jungle, red-faced and fuming. Roger had just humiliated her – in front of Jack, too! By tonight, all the biguns would whisper behind her back. About Eliza and Roger, and their would-be kiss. She should have known. What boy would want to kiss a girl like her?

But hadn't he at least seemed interested? With his incessant staring and his stalker tendencies, he must have liked her somewhat. Maybe he intrigued her as much as he intrigued him.

"Stop it, Eliza," she told herself. She was working herself up, thinking far too much into it. What happened with Roger was nothing. In a few days, they would all forget it ever happened. Who was she kidding? Jack would definitely bring it up later. Then what would she tell Ralph? Groaning, Eliza leaned her back against the tree and closed her eyes, sliding almost immediately down to the ground. For the first time, she wished she knew where the watch was. She would give anything just to disappear.

After allotting herself five minutes to wallow in self-pity, Eliza hastily got to her feet. She looked around in surprise. In her bout of pacing and fuming, she had found herself far from where she started. She did not venture from the beach too often and whenever she did, she was with Ralph or Simon. She didn't recognize this part of the jungle at all. Maybe she should call for help. It was a small island. Someone was bound to hear her.

But before she could even open her mouth, Eliza heard the faint murmur of voices just a little while ahead of her. Relieved, she moved toward the sound and listened closely, trying to place the voices. They were talking too softly for her to know which boys she had run into. Eliza could only hope it wasn't Roger.

When the group had finally become within her line of sight, she let out a small gasp. Before her stood Jack and his hunters, most likely. She knew it was him because of his flaming shock of hair. But the others, Eliza could not be certain of their identities. All of them had coated paint on to their faces, in what were almost intricate patterns of lines and swirls. Each had a spear at hand, and each was crouched low on the ground, creeping steadily in her direction.

Eliza's first reaction was to duck behind a nearby bush. She was frightened. In a few minutes, these children had transformed into what she thought to be an intimidating and probably deadly force. Here in the jungle, she could see that they were not schoolboys anymore.

As she lay hunched over behind the foliage, she watched as Jack turned briefly to his hunters, shushing them. Slowly, he silently stalked further into the jungle, quickly followed by the others. They were close enough now so that Eliza could see their masked faces more clearly. She craned her neck, peering between the leaves that were hiding her. Was Roger with them?

When she shifted, Eliza had managed to snap a twig beneath her feet. The noise was unsettlingly loud and reverberant. Jack froze, his head immediately snapping in her direction. Eliza had no time to act before he pounced over the shrubbery, landing directly in her hiding place. Her head collided with the ground, the rest of her body trapped beneath Jack's weight. Jack was leaning over her, his chest heaving with labored breaths, his knife held readily at her throat. Only then did Eliza let out a delayed scream. Jack had to blink several times before realizing it was her. Cursing, he stood up, looking at Eliza with disdain.

One of the hunters threw down his spear. "I don't believe it," he cried. "It's just the girl." There was a collective groan as everyone glared at Eliza, as she remained frozen on the ground, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

But she was not one to stay down long, for she was an Everard and along with her bloodline came pride. Picking herself up with as much dignity as was possible, Eliza brushed off her nightgown, shaking her curly blond mane behind her. "Well?" she said in a chilly voice, sending Jack a pointed glance.

Jack frowned, throwing out his hands impatiently. "Well what?"

"Aren't you going to apologize?" She crossed her arms and met his stony gaze.

"Apologize?" he exclaimed in exasperation. "What on earth for?"

"What for?" cried Eliza. "You could have killed me!"

"Maybe I should have," Jack retorted. "Would have saved me the headache, that's for sure."

But amidst the boys' snickers, she didn't dare falter but stared impassively back at them. "I'm not leaving without an apology," she stated defiantly, her feet planted firmly on the ground.

"You'll be standing here for a long time then," interjected Roger as he stepped out from behind the mass of hunters. His face was painted as well, but not even the mask could veil the bitter cold etched across his face. "Go back to the beach, Eliza," he said tonelessly. "Go before you get hurt."

Disarmed by his unwavering gaze, Eliza felt her defenses falling. "Fine then," she said, her voice shaking as she bowed her head in a reluctant nod. She turned around and walked back the way she came. In her wake, the boys picked up where they had left off as if nothing had happened. But once she'd reached a comfortable distance, she looked over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of Roger staring after her with an eerie stillness.

Eliza trekked through the jungle feeling lost and dejected. It didn't make any sense. None of it did. Roger had liked her. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have stalked her across the island, would he? He even tried to kiss her – and she would have let him. Good Lord, she would have let him kiss her a thousand times over. He intrigued her and much as she intrigued him. But then why had he been so cruel earlier? Had she done something wrong?

No, she assured herself firmly. None of this was her fault. This was just a boy being confusing, as per usual. Why was it so hard for people to just say what they mean? Why did they have to be cryptic and secretive and downright frustrating? Eliza was never one for guessing games. If it took brutal honesty to get her point across, she was fine with that. She wanted the truth from Roger. She wanted whatever he could give her.

Exhausted by the day's events, all Eliza wanted was a well-deserved nap. But down at the beach, all that awaited her was chaos. Ralph was on his feet yelling, "Smoke! Smoke!" Even from yards away, Eliza could see how pale and distraught he was, as unmoving as if he were frozen. She squinted in the direction he was facing, hearing Piggy ask about the signal. The fire – of course! She cupped a hand over her eyes to shield them from the blaring sunlight. Someone was supposed to be on fire duty, but she didn't see any figures on the mountaintop. More importantly, she didn't see any fire.

Before her, she saw Simon reach out to touch her brother, but before he could, Ralph broke out into a run, heading straight across the island's ugly scar toward the signal fire. Simon, Maurice, and Piggy took off after him.

"Simon," she yelled, sprinting to catch up. "What's going on?"

"Ralph reckons he saw a ship," he told Eliza, steadying her by the crook of her elbow as she struggled to get over the twisted undergrowth.

"Are you serious?" she exclaimed, stopping short because she was so confused. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something just didn't sound right. But Eliza didn't have time to ponder the situation since Simon had seized her wrist and was pulling her along after him.

She was gasping once they had reached the top of the summit. Ralph was already there at the edge of the cliff, bellowing to the ship that was oblivious to his powerless pleas. "Come back!" he screamed. "Come back!"

"Oh dear," murmured Eliza as she knelt beside charred remnants of their kindling that was now barely emitting smoke in tiny, near invisible wisps. She scooped up a handful of ashes in her palm, watching fixedly as they slipped between her fingers. Still warm, she mused silently to herself. But it wasn't burning.

"They let the bloody fire go out," said Ralph in a voice that could cut through steel. Eliza looked up shock, never knowing her brother to be so angry.

"You're sure there was a ship?" she whispered to Simon so not upset Ralph even more. She doubted he could hear her in the first place. She knew the red on his cheeks was not from sunburn and she could see the way his fists were clenched painfully at his sides. Simon nodded, eying Ralph uneasily.

The corners of Ralph's mouth twitched but he did not smile. His visage was molded into a frigid look of pure loathing. "There they are," he said, the words slipping from him like acid.

Eliza stood and followed his intent gaze down to the foot of the mountain where she saw a rowdy procession of half-naked boys armed with spears, paint still coated on their youthful faces. At the front she noticed a bright flash of red hair – Jack. The very thought of him made her sick to the stomach. The twins, who Eliza just realized were supposed to be on fire duty, brought up the rear, carrying between them a great stake to which a dark, lifeless bundle was strung.

With an involuntary gasp, she looked down on the approaching group in incredulity. "Is that –"

"Uh huh," said Simon with a faint trace of a scowl, his brow knitted in concentration. "Listen to what they're saying."

She fell silent and allowed their chant reached her ears.

"Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill her blood. Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill her blood."

Eliza wrinkled her nose in distaste, stepping farther away from the ledge as the hunters quickly made their way up the mountain, forgetting their gruesome chant for the moment. Jack was the first to reach the summit. He hurried forward, thrusting his spear skyward in triumph.

"Look! We killed a pig! We stole up on them, we got in a circle –"

"We got in a circle –"

"We crept up –"

"The pig squealed –"

The twins beamed magnificently as the rest of the boys scrambled to tell their part of the tale, but Eliza could not look away from the fallen pig swinging between them. How could something so dead appear so helpless and menacing at the same time? Not to mention that no one else seemed to find it unsettling that there was blood on Jack Merridew's hands. His hands were coated in blood and he was just standing there, waving his spear and laughing. Laughing! Eliza was going to be sick.

"You let the fire go out," spoke Ralph in a dangerous, unwavering voice. But Jack simply dismissed this statement with a wave his bloody hand.

"We can light the fire again," he said with a careless shrug. "You should have been with us, Ralph. The twins got knocked over and I cut the pigs throat," he announced proudly. "There were lashings of blood. You should have seen it!"

"You let the fire go out," Ralph repeated without blinking.

Jack glanced at Samneric apprehensively before looking back at Ralph. "We had to have them in the hunt, or there wouldn't have been enough for a ring," he said, flushing. "The fire's only been out for an hour or two. We can light up again…"

He waited for some sort of conformation from Ralph but was awarded none. But he was lost in the thrill of the hunt – she could see it. That ghastly Wendy Forster had had that same thirst in her eyes the first time she'd made Eliza cry. From then on, Eliza had sworn never to let Wendy get the best of her ever again. There were moments of weakness, of course, but she was an Everard and Everards never back down.

But this wasn't some school hallway and there weren't any teachers to make sure things didn't get out of hand. No one could stop Jack from killing as many pigs as he wanted. Spreading his arms wide, he exclaimed, "You should have seen the blood!"

Before any of them could add to their hunting adventure, Ralph jabbed his finger toward the horizon. "There was a ship," he yelled. And for once, the children were silent. "There was a ship. Out there. You said you'd keep the fire going and you let it out. They might have seen us. We might have gone home!"

"No," said Eliza suddenly, the day her brother returned from the island coming back to her with startling clarity.

Ralph turned on her, the others looking back at her in surprise. "What?"

She averted her gaze quickly, not meaning to have spoken. "How long have we been here? No more than a few weeks." She shook her head in disbelief. "No, it's too early. Far too early. You had to have been here much longer than that."

Piggy looked dumbfounded. Eliza knew he would have loved to put the blame on Jack for a change. Ralph appeared to be defeated.

"So we'll be stuck here for a long while then?" he asked mournfully.

"I'm afraid so," Eliza replied, striding over to him and giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "But they'll come to rescue you. I'm sure of it." She grinned at him, but for some reason, Ralph didn't look too reassured, unlike Jack, who exhaled a sigh of relief.

"See, Ralph?" he said cheerfully. "Eliza says we're going to be rescued and little Eliza always speaks the truth." He sent her a smile that was almost a sneer. Eliza started at the derision in his tone, but Piggy spoke before she could.

"Don't think you've gotten away with anything," said the bespectacled boy, who wagged his chubby finger at him chidingly. "You and your blood, Jack Merridew! You and your hunting. This is your fault, you know. If you hadn't let the fire go out –"

The rest of his sentence was lost in a sharp intake of breath after Jack punched him harshly in the stomach, sending him to the ground. "You would, would you? Fatty!" He smacked Piggy's head, sending his glasses flying into the rocks.

"My specs!"

Eliza scrambled to look for them, but Simon spotted them first. With some sadness, she noticed that a jagged crack had split through one side.

"Now I only got one eye," Piggy whined, giving Jack a malevolent glare. "Just you wait!"

"Just you wait," Jack mimicked him in a high-pitched voice. "Ha!" His hunters laughed heartily at his parody, encouraging him to continue. He blundered about in what she had to admit was a pretty good imitation of Piggy but she would never bring herself to agree with it.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," she cried out, staring at the boys venomously. "What's Piggy to do now that he's half-blind? That was a foul trick, Jack. And you're all vile for laughing about it." She directed this at Roger in particular, who stared blankly back at her, tightening his grip on his spear ever so slightly. Setting her jaw, she forced herself to turn away.

"Why, you little –" His blue eyes flashing, Jack made as if to seize her wrist but Ralph pushed her roughly aside into Simon, who kept her on her feet, and planted himself firmly between them.

"Don't you threaten my sister," he said stonily, not ready to bury the hatchet just yet.

Not wanting to pick any more fights, Jack held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. I apologize," he said, bowing his head gallantly. "For the fire… And for – her." He pointed vaguely in Eliza's direction. She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

But Ralph was not quick too forgive. Eliza knew this, for after she'd broken his toy airplane when she was little, he refused to speak to her for over a week. "Just light the fire," he muttered, the anger not yet fading from his voice.

Glad to ease some of the tension away, the boys got to work. To Eliza's dismay, Jack acted completely joyous, whistling and barking orders as if he did nothing wrong. All the while the fire was lit and the meat roasting, Ralph did not utter one word. Eliza sat beside him, making jokes and commenting on the scenery but he merely grunted in reply. He had been so certain that they would get rescued that day, Eliza realized. He could hardly even deal with the crushing disappointment.

Eliza couldn't look at her half-cooked food as she ate it. It made her sick and she forced herself to swallow it. But meat was meat and she had been eating nothing but fruit for the past several days. Once everyone had finished eating, the discussion was turned back to the hunt. "We were spread round," Jack retold the tale dramatically. "I crept, on hands and knees. The pig ran away and made an awful noise."

The others began to chime in with unrestrained enthusiasm.

"It turned and ran back into the circle, bleeding –"

"We closed in –"

"I cut the pig's throat –"

Samneric leapt to their feet and began running in a circle about each other, reenacting the scene. The rest of the boys joined in, imitation pig squeals mixing in with the shouts and shrieks of laughter. They repeated the same chant they'd been seeing as they dragged the pig in. Eliza looked away in discomfort. She had never realized that boys could be so uncouth and rowdy. They hadn't even been on the island very long and already they were acting like wild animals.

It took several long minutes for silence to be restored, but once it was, Ralph stood and announced in a toneless voice, "I'm calling an assembly – with the conch. Down on the platform. When I blow it. Now."

Eliza could have called after him, but she didn't. She had never seen her brother so angry and it frightened her, especially that she knew that nothing she could say would comfort him. They were all standing dumbly behind Ralph as he turned and retreated down the mountain. His stoniness had left them frozen in his wake.

Exhausted after the day's events, Eliza took the long route on her way to the platform, weaving her way through the fruit trees. Truthfully, she would have taken any excuse to not attend the meeting. She was tired of hearing the boys talk, accomplishing nothing. She supposed that she could have supported Ralph more, but it wouldn't have mattered much. As if anyone on the island would listen to a girl. I'll show them, she thought to herself. One day.

But before she could embark on an internal tirade, someone grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around, and pushed her roughly into a nearby tree. Eliza gasped as the back of her head collided with the trunk, feeling slightly winded. She blinked several times, regaining focus, and found herself staring straight in to Roger's icy gray eyes that were now burning with a dangerous fire.

"What the hell are you doing? Let me go!" she screamed, raising her hands to push him away. In a lightning fast motion, Roger seized her wrists and shoved her into the tree once more. Eliza winced, feeling her back scrape against the bark.

"You – are – an – idiot!" he said through gritted teeth. "What exactly were you thinking, wandering around the island by yourself?"

"Before I was so rudely manhandled," replied Eliza disdainfully, "I was headed towards the meeting. And if you would just unhand me, I'll be on my way and we can forget this ever happened."

"No," he hissed, his face suddenly close to hers so that Eliza could stare at nothing else. She tried to pull away but he jerked her back, his grip on her wrists becoming painful. He rested his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged.

"Roger," said Eliza hesitantly, squirming with discomfort. "What are you doing?"

"Earlier, when we were out hunting, we could have killed you," he said, looking into her eyes imploringly. "I never want that to happen."

"Oh," Eliza blinked in confusion. "Is that what this is about?"

He didn't answer right away and he looked as though he was struggling with something on the inside. "You – you just can't put yourself in danger. I don't know if we'll be able to stop ourselves next time," he managed to get out.

She frowned, never pulling herself from his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"You've never felt it," Roger said, his eyes burning. "You don't know what it's like – the hunt. You feel the energy. It consumes you, until…"

He trailed off and Eliza tentatively tugged her wrists from his grip, bringing one hand to rest on his tanned shoulder. "Until what, Roger?"

"Until you have no choice." He stared at her with such intensity that it very nearly frightened her. "You can't keep doing this to me, Eliza," he all but begged.

"What if I don't have a choice?" she asked quietly. Without waiting for an answer, she kissed him squarely on the lips. He responded with equal enthusiasm, pushing her back into the tree – only more gently than before. Eliza wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his hands pulling her by the waist, urging her to get closer. His lips felt warm and foreign on hers, for Eliza had never kissed a boy before. Her heart was pounding but she refused to let herself think and kept on drawing him in. She felt his fingers tangling in her mess of curls, tilting her head upward to further deepen the kiss. There was no more distance between them, no more air. Lungs on fire, Eliza reluctantly jerked back with a loud gasp.

Roger was breathing heavily as well. As they began to regain their senses, Eliza smiled at him. Unsurprisingly, he didn't smile back. "You shouldn't have done that," he said hoarsely.

She let out a laugh. "You didn't seem to have a problem with it just a moment ago," she teased. Take that, society. Take that, Wendy Forster. Eliza Everard had just kissed a boy! This one fact was enough to make her giddy. She tried to draw him in for another kiss, but he resisted. "What's the matter?" she demanded. "You've spent the past few weeks stalking me. I'd have thought you liked me somewhat."

"That's the problem," he said angrily, raising his voice. "I like you, Eliza – maybe too much. I can't help myself when I'm around you."

Eliza only giggled, her face heating. "Oh, so I'm a vixen now, am I?" Eliza Everard: vixen. She sure liked the sound of that.

"It isn't funny!" he bellowed and she stopped laughing immediately. Pinning her hands to her sides, he kissed her roughly, banging her head against the tree. Her cry of pain was lost to his lips. He forced his tongue into her mouth even as she struggled to breathe. For a long time, he did not stop – not until he noticed the shocked tears sliding down Eliza's cheeks.

Roger drew back as if electrified, distancing himself from Eliza, who was leaning on the tree for support. For a long time, there was a startled silence between them as Eliza caught her breath, wiping her face on the back of her hand. He avoided looking at her, visibly ashamed. "You shouldn't be around me, Eliza," he said desperately. "I can't help myself when I'm with you."

Her instincts told her to run but her feet rooted her to the spot. Eliza shook her head firmly. "No," she said. "You have to let me help you."

He let out a sardonic laugh. "You want to help me, Eliza?" he asked sharply. "Do yourself a favor – save the charity for someone who matters."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded angrily. "Of course you matter."

"I'm not good like you," he said as patiently as he could. "I do bad things, and I enjoy them. I'm rotten, and nothing you can do will help me."

"Throwing rocks at little boys is hardly a heinous act of torture," Eliza replied.

Roger stared back at her, his face fixed in a dark, serious expression. "You don't know the things I've done back home… The things I want to do," he said gravely. He squeezed his eyes shut, balling his hands into fists as if to cage the beast lurking within.

"It doesn't matter," Eliza insisted. "You can redeem yourself. Despite whatever bad things you've done in the past, you're still God's creation. All men are equal in the eyes of God," she said solemnly, repeating the ideals she had been taught ever since she was a baby. Back home, people with good moral values were always respected, which was why Eliza was so taken aback when Roger heard this and laughed in her face.

"Do you honestly still believe that?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"What?" she asked, confused. "Don't you believe in God?"

"Of course not," Roger retorted. "I think God is a made-up figure, just like Santa Clause. Parents only tell us about him to make sure we behave and do the right thing. We'll fear God and his judgment the same way we fear our parents. It's all about control, you see."

"I don't think that's true," said Eliza, though her mind was now conflicted after hearing this new viewpoint. "After all," she began thoughtfully. "I respect my parents, but I don't fear them."

"Consider yourself lucky, then," Roger coolly replied. Without warning, Eliza closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his shoulders. He hung back, perhaps afraid that he would end up harming her if he touched her again. "What are you doing?" he asked warily.

"I'm giving you a hug. Surely you know what a hug is?" she teased.

Roger looked bemused. "But… why?" he said dumbly.

"Because something horrible must have happened to you to make you turn your back on God," Eliza told him candidly.

If this was an opportunity for redemption, he certainly didn't take it. He didn't tell her about the beatings or the blood, even though a part of him wanted to. Instead, he looked away, asking her coldly, "If God exists, where was he when my mother died? Where was he when the plane went down? Where is he now?"

Tears began to fall from his eyes unchecked. He brushed them hastily away, knowing that Eliza had already noticed. She placed her hand over his heart. "He's right here," she said softly. "In each and every one of us."

"How do you know?" he questioned stubbornly.

"I don't," she said with a small smile. "That's why we call it faith."

Roger stared back at her with a pained expression, remembering that this conversation had not started with God, but with a situation that was entirely different. "I'll hurt you," he said urgently.

Eliza shook her head. "No, you won't."

"How do you know?" Roger asked again.

"I don't." Then she went on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "But I have faith in you."

Their lips met once again – this time gentler than before. During this brief kiss, something changed within the two children. Perhaps, for a moment, they realized that the island would not last forever, or maybe that someday, the words they said now would be a part of something bigger, something that neither of them could control.

A/N: I'm not completely happy with that last scene because I couldn't put it to words exactly how I imagined it. I have to announce that I will be putting this story on temporary hiatus. I know how I want this story to end, but I still need to take more time away from it. Maybe it's because I've changed so much since I first started this story that it's hard to write it from where I am now. I'll be switching gears and posting another Lord of the Flies story soon. It'll still be a girl-on-the-island fic (I'm sorry, but I love these too much to let them go just yet), but the mood is rather different from the ones I've written so far. Hopefully, it will get me back in the writing mojo. Please continue to review An Everyday Anomaly though, because you never know when I'll get back to it. I appreciate any thoughts and/or criticism!