A/N: I should not be posting another story right now. After all, it is my junior year of high school (a.k.a. the crawl-under-a-rock-and-die year). Oh well, at least now I have an outlet for all my stress. That's right: fanfiction.

Yes, this is another girl-on-the-island fic. I can't help the fact that these types of stories intrigue me. Plus, I like taking cliche plots and putting my own spin on them. You might have read my previous Lord of the Flies stories, JLC and AEA. If you're up to it, you can look into those as well. I'd like to think that Dirty Game will be much better.

IMPORTANT: this is story will be MOVIE verse! It's based on the 1990 film, so a lot of the events and character descriptions will be inspired by this and not the novel. Most people complain that the remake is nothing compared to the book and I agree. My reason for choosing to base it off of the movie is because I don't like changing classic novels too much, and the movie takes several liberties with the plot already. Also, it is modern, and I haven't written many stories set in modern-day.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize. I do, however, claim ownership to the OC, Arianna Lovejoy, and her father. Please don't steal them, because I will be very pissed.

I think I've rambled on long enough. On with the story!

Dirty Game

"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness."

– Joseph Conrad

++ CHAPTER ONE

Even on a good day, Dean Lovejoy was not a pleasant man – although his name did suggest otherwise. For both the students and the staff, Fridays at the Academy, with the promise of the weekend lingering in the back of everyone's minds, were usually very wonderful days. On this particular Friday, the sun was shining brightly even though it was relatively early in the morning. The spring breeze wafted lazily over the campus, weaving its way in and out of the Dean's office window where Lovejoy stood, standing at attention with a straight back and his hands clasped neatly behind him. He showed no sign of appreciation for the mild April weather and instead gazed stoically down at the cadets who were positioned in straight lines on the quad, practicing their drills. The boys marched beautifully – halting at the same precise moment, turning to the side in unison, and swiftly saluting their commanding officer. But if Lovejoy felt a burst of pride of his students' achievements, he certainly did not show it.

Turning away from the window, Lovejoy sat himself in his intimidating, burgundy wingback armchair, which was located directly behind his large, uncluttered mahogany desk. His nameplate, which read "WARREN B. LOVEJOY" in golden letters, was placed front and center, ensuring that whoever sat across from it would exactly know whom they were talking to. A detailed desk pad calendar sat in front of him, full of his penciled scrawls reminding him of the next conference, the next staff meeting, and tomorrow's dinner plans. But to his right, in the seat of honor, was his collection of picture frames. Each showcased the same round-faced, tan-skinned girl at varying stages of growth. One was of her at the beach, two-years-old with pigtails, a bucket sitting on her head and a shovel at hand, her face hidden behind heart-shaped sunglasses. Another was of her and Lovejoy at Disneyland, waving from in front of Cinderella's castle. She was around seven at the time, happily perched on top of Lovejoy's shoulders.

The most recent photo featured a teenager posing in front of a Christmas tree. Her face had matured, now narrower and fixed in a more serious, composed expression. She had grown prettier with age, her beauty enhanced by her red velvet dress. It was this photo that Lovejoy held fondly in his hand, even offering it one of his scarce smiles. The pride he hadn't shown for his students was poring from every inch of his face as he looked at this photo. His heart filled with the kind of happiness that you can hardly explain, and yet he felt a pang of sadness. Perhaps it was because the girl in the photo resembled someone he knew way back when, someone he sorely missed.

Before the nostalgia could settle within him, Mrs. Bennett, the secretary, rushed into the Dean's office, looking both timid and slightly harassed. Lovejoy looked at her expectantly.

"Well," he asked impatiently. "What is it?"

"I don't know why – I've asked and she simply won't tell me – but she's come all the way here, sir," she told him breathlessly. "She's at the school!"

"What?" barked Lovejoy. "Tell me, who on earth are you talking about?"

Mrs. Bennett looked as if she were about to faint when she said, "Your daughter, sir. But she won't come up to see you."

After drills, most of the cadets hung around the quad until classes started. Clumps of boys scattered themselves across the bright green, finely manicured grass. The largest group claimed the shade near the west entrance. Some sat on the base of the closest pedestal, some on the grass. The oldest boy was lying with his back propped up against the building, his t-shirt untucked, blond mop disheveled, and his military jacket slouching halfway down his arms. He was the alpha of the group for sure, his beta being the brown-haired young man next to him who sat with his arm propped up on one knee. The pair watched the group appraisingly, neither of them speaking.

On this particular Friday, there was a new boy among their group. He was short, overweight, with round glasses framing his beady eyes. Not to mention that he sure liked to talk. The nicer ones had tried to introduce him to the others and make conversation with him, but quickly got bored with his monotonous dissertations. Due to their lack of response, the new boy fell silent, choosing instead to sweep his darting eyes up and down the quad. What he noticed, of course, was the very last thing he had expected to see.

"Who's that?" he asked, his mouth half-open in wonder.

The others turned to see what he was talking about. Across the immaculate sea of grass, a young lady could be seen going past the courtyard and out onto the quad. She wore a pleated skirt and a matching blazer that bore the crest of Maywood Prep, the prestigious all-girls' boarding school that was several towns over. Gray knee socks covered her long, honey-toned legs, which ended neatly in black penny loafers. She walked with purpose and grace – no, walk wasn't the right word – she practically glided. There was a regal air about her. Perhaps it had something to do with her perfect posture, or maybe it was just how she carried herself. But within seconds, she'd caught the eye of every single boy at the military academy.

"Oh, her," snorted the blond boy. "That's just Arianna."

"You know her, Jack?" questioned his beta.

"Yeah, a bit. But I wouldn't get my hopes up," Jack said to the new kid. "She's a downright prude. Not to mention, she's Lovejoy's daughter."

There was a collective gasp of amazement at this as the cadets all craned their necks to get a better look at the female stranger.

"She doesn't look anything like Lovejoy," one of them remarked.

"Maybe she's adopted," surmised the new kid.

"Nah," said Jack with a chuckle. "That's his kid alright. You see, when Lovejoy was young, he was already making his way to the top. Lieutenant Commander or something and he was only in his twenties. And man, he got around, if you know what I mean."

The other boys laughed and leaned in, eager to hear the rest of it, for the Dean hardly shared personal information any of his students.

"Anyway he was stationed in the Philippines for a couple years and while he was there, he knocked up some chick," Jack shrugged. "Guess she must have been a good lay because he married her and took her to the U.S. But then the girl died after she had the kid, so Lovejoy had to leave the army to take care of her himself. The government offered him a job at the Academy because they felt bad or something. He hasn't enlisted since."

"He lost his career because of that?" the beta cried out indignantly.

"No, Rog," he told him. "Because of her." Jack looked pointedly back at the princess-like figure that was steadily approaching the group, although she made no move to glance at them, let alone greet them. Not one to be ignored, Jack called out to her, "Playing hooky, are we, Arianna?"

Arianna stopped short, turning her head to examine him. "Oh. You're still here," she began loftily, eying him with disdain.

Jack smirked, cocking an eyebrow up at her. "Miss me?"

Crossing her arms, she sent him a challenging smile. "I must say, Jack, I'm surprised. I thought Daddy would've put you in the state penitentiary by now."

"What are you talking about? I'm his star student," he replied sarcastically.

She took in his untidy appearance and scoffed. "That explains why Ralph is the Colonel, not you." Seeing Jack's scowl, Arianna was satisfied knowing that she touched a nerve. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Lovejoy stalking across the quad in their direction, looking even more frightening than usual. "Later boys," she said breezily, walking toward her father and bracing herself for the worst.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" she asked innocently. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Arianna," he said in a dangerously soft voice. "What are you doing out of school?"

"I ran away," she stated simply, placing her hands on her hips in preparation for a heated argument.

Lovejoy stared at her for a moment before sighing in exasperation, his hand coming up to rub his temple. "Wait for me in the front," he ordered her. "I'll drive you back to Maywood."

But Arianna remained rooted to the spot. "I'm not going back there," she told him defiantly. "You can't make me."

His face reddened slightly as he struggled to control his temper. "I am your father and you will do what I say!" he raised his voice, unaware that their argument had caught the attention of many of his students.

"No," she said, her voice surprisingly calm as she held his gaze unblinkingly. And for the first time, the resemblance between the pair was suddenly strikingly clear.

Taking a deep breath, he turned away from her. "Go to my office, Arianna. I don't have time for this right now."

She managed to hold her ground for a few moments before her bottom lip trembled and she dropped her defenses. "No," she whispered. "You have time to go to parades and conventions and golfing with the Secretary of Defense, but never enough time for me."

Tears springing to her eyes, Arianna stormed past her father and into the building, leaving Lovejoy watching silently behind her. Jack and his gang observed him for a long time before he noticed.

"What are you standing around here for?" Lovejoy barked at them. "Get to class!"

They all scattered after that, knowing it was best not to say a word. Soon, Lovejoy was the only one left in the green expanse of the quad – standing stoic and silent and very much alone.

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Arianna was afraid of many things, but her father was not one of them. One of her biggest fears was falling into a dream that she couldn't escape from; that no matter how hard she tried, she would never wake up. The things you see in a dream, the people you meet, they're not real. They are illusions, symbols, ludicrous – call it what you will. The only thing in a dream that is real is the dreamer, who is left to her own devices in a world that is both volatile and unpredictable, a world where the game has changed and no one thought to give her the rulebook. If there was one thing Arianna was afraid of, it was being alone.

As she paced in her father's office, she noticed how dark and quiet it was in there. This was where her father spent most of his time, yet it still had the feeling that it had barely been lived in. Suddenly, she pitied her father. He was by himself for the most part, which explained why he was always so unhappy.

When she saw the picture frames sitting on her father's desk, Arianna frowned. The little girl in those photographs was from a different life. That girl was happy, and it had never taken much to keep her that way. But that girl was gone – all grown up now – and as she stared somberly at those pictures, at her younger faces frozen in a smile, all she saw were lies.

The door opened and shut behind her, but she did not turn to face her father as he walked briskly behind his desk and sat behind it. "Sit down," he said. When she made no move to do so, he hardly hesitated to repeat the command once more, only this time he yelled it. Arianna reluctantly obeyed, taking a seat across from him.

"I don't know where this attitude is coming from," he began calmly. "But if you explain yourself, I'll try to understand why." And still, Arianna said nothing, fueling her father's aggravation. "Go on," he said impatiently. "You were so keen to come all the way over here and you must have had a reason. So, go on – speak!"

"Are you sure you've got the time?" she answered sassily, taking note of his detailed calendar.

Lovejoy's eyes bulged with rage. "I will not take anymore of this disrespect! Now, if you don't feel like explaining yourself, wait in the front and I'll have someone else drive you back to school. I've dealt with enough of this for today."

"I'm not one of your students," Arianna shot back at him. "And yet you order me around as if I was one!"

"Perhaps if you actually listened –"

"No!" she screamed in exasperation. "You're the one who's not listening!" Tears flowing freely down her face, she allowed all of the words she'd fought to suppress over the years escape from her mouth. "Maybe it's easy to forget I'm your daughter. That's why you keep sending me away, isn't it? You want to forget about me. Why shouldn't you? You never wanted me anyways."

Her father, shocked and hurt at her accusations, tried to reach for her, but Arianna flinched and moved back in her seat. "Honey, of course that's not true!"

"That's a lie," she said between sobs. "I've ruined your life and landed you here at this dumb school. You hate it here and you hate me. But that doesn't matter because I hate you, too," she added before she could stop herself. "I hate you. I hate you!"

Not waiting for her father's reaction, Arianna fled from his office, not wanting to hear his answer.

Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. They ate in the back bungalow on the grounds where Lovejoy lived during the school year. Both father and daughter were oddly formal to each other, having an unspoken agreement not to discuss their rift until the following morning. Lovejoy had phoned Maywood Prep, telling them that Arianna would not be returning for the next couple of days. He didn't ask her any more questions and she was perfectly fine with that.

Arianna slept on the futon that night, thankful that she had remembered to pack her pajamas. She had been rushing before she left the school, grabbing whatever clothes she could fit into her backpack, figuring she could send for the rest of her things later. She hadn't really thought much about what would happen after she left, knowing that she had nowhere else to go but the Academy. Oddly enough, she liked it here at her father's school, where she spent spring break and Christmas vacation and some holiday weekends. When she was younger, she'd made friends with some of the boys. She had gone to the movies with one of them, although her father had hardly approved. Brian was his name and the date hadn't gone well. He'd had his mind set on making out with her and Arianna hadn't been so eager to oblige. Fortunately, he'd withdrawn from the Academy the following year for unknown reasons. Not that it mattered, of course. Arianna couldn't care less so long as she'd never have to see the insufferable prick again.

It took nearly an hour for the wheels in her mind to stop whirring, allowing her to go to sleep. For once, she wasn't plagued by nightmares or any nonsensical dreams. Instead, she had fallen into a blissful black void where she wouldn't have to face her troubles until the following morning. But unfortunately, morning came startlingly early.

When her father woke her up, it was still dark outside; the clock beside Arianna told her it was just half past four. He had shaken her swiftly, his voice sharp and urgent. "Wake up and get dressed," he told her as soon as she opened her eyes.

She looked up at him, bleary-eyed. "What's going on?"

"Here." He shoved a banana into her hand and quickly ushered her to the bathroom. When she'd stood there, still caught in a daze, he raised his voice. "This is an emergency, Arianna. You've got to hurry!"

The panic that momentarily clouded his normally serious expression finally registered. Knowing not to ask questions, Arianna splashed water on her face, ran her toothbrush inside her mouth a couple of times, and hastily pulled on her clothes. Grabbing the banana, she unpeeled and ate it as she bolted toward the school.

Out on the quad, the boys were dutifully lined up. They all seemed to be incredibly annoyed at having to wake up this early on a Saturday, probably thinking it was to be a surprise drill or something along those lines. After seeing her father act the way he did, Arianna had a feeling that it was not going to be anything of that sort; that it was going to be something far more horrible.

The grounds fell silent as Lovejoy came to view on the balcony that overlooked the quad. He appeared to be even graver as he cleared his throat to speak, his booming voice carried, as chilly as the spring morning. "I apologize for summoning you all here on such short notice, but in a situation as dire as this, such measures are absolutely necessary. At 0400 hours, a nuclear bomb was detected in Los Angeles." Arianna, along with many others, released a strangled cry. Several students who were caught mid-yawn stared up at the Dean in shock as he pressed forward. "Please, I urge you not to panic. The government will most likely be able to disable the bomb, but we are taking emergency precautions. In the case that the radiation spreads, the Academy will most likely be well within the fallout zone. However, we have several planes at the airbase that will be used in the evacuation process. Each division must follow its appointed captain, who will transport the division to the airbase and accompany the students on the plane. Gather around your captain now and he will give you the next set of instructions."

There was a brief moment of silence as Lovejoy stepped down from the balcony before the students and officers briskly went to follow the Dean's orders. Although there was panic evident in everyone's eyes, the officials were miraculously able to maintain order among the uniform-clad students. Weaving her way through the crowd, Arianna was quickly able to find her father, who seemed to be looking for her as well.

"Daddy – a bomb? I don't understand," she said to him, not bothering to conceal her fear.

"Go with Captain Benson and the rest of Division One. He'll make sure you're safe," he told her. He was calm, as usual, but the worry was evident on his face.

"What about you? Where are you going?" she asked, already afraid of his answer.

"I'm staying here," he replied shortly. "To help move civilians out of the city."

Feeling as though her heart was going to fall straight through her stomach, Arianna latched on to her father's arms. "No, Daddy! Can't they manage without you?

"It is my duty," he stated simply, gently releasing himself from her grip.

"Please," she cried, feeling her throat constrict, her voice breaking. "Please, you have to come. Daddy, you can't –"

Suddenly, he pulled her into a tight hug. "I would rather die a thousand deaths than lose you," he said softly in her ear. "Remember that, Ria."

The familiar nickname stirred within her a tenderness she hadn't felt in years, along with the bitter taste of remorse. "Daddy, I'm really sorry about –"

But before she could even apologize, he pushed her away from him and handed her over to Captain Benson. "Go, Ria," were his last words to her. "There isn't much time."

The planes used to evacuate the students were much smaller than Arianna was accustomed to. There was only one section; no business or economy class. When she traveled with her father, they had always flown first class. She wasn't used to the tight seating, nor the moderate turbulence she felt whenever the plane changed altitudes. Feeling dizzy and claustrophobic, Arianna was thankful that it was Captain Benson who was sitting next to her and not one of the boys. At least he would forgive her if she threw up on him.

"Don't worry, now, Miss Lovejoy," said Benson cheerily in his attempt to distract her from the waves of nausea that were violently wracking through her. "We should be landing shortly. Just a minor security breach, nothing out of the ordinary."

"Minor?" she replied weakly, holding her head between her hands. From what her father had said earlier, this situation did not sound minor in the slightest.

"Sure! We're just going to be circling over the open sea for an hour or so until we hear word that it's okay to come back. An hour, shouldn't be longer than that, you see." He sounded awfully confident about it, but Arianna wasn't that easily convinced. She closed her eyes tightly, wanting to sleep and wait for it all to be over. The boys behind her were getting restless and rather rowdy, which did not help to ease her worsening headache. If she had to listen to them curse and shout and argue for just a moment longer, she might as well rip her own ears off.

What was worse was that Jack decided to start up the famous Duckworth chant, only it was the dirty version. "I don't know but I been told," he bellowed. Arianna cringed even though he was sitting two rows behind her.

I don't know what I been told, the other boys echoed him.

"Korean pussy's mighty cold."

Korean pussy's mighty cold.

Openly appalled, Arianna momentarily forgot about her dizziness, disgusted by the chant's lyrics. However, no one seemed to hear her gasp of indignation.

"Sound off."

One, two.

"Sound off."

Three, four.

"Cadence count."

One, two, three, four. One two… Three, four!

"I got a girl in Kansas city," Jack continued, smiling smugly when he noticed her squirming in discomfort.

I got a girl in Kansas City.

"She's got freckles on her titty."

She's got freckles on her titty.

"Sound off."

One, two.

"Sound off."

Three, four.

"Cadence count."

One, two, three, four. One two… Three, four!

"If I die on the Russian front…"

If I die on the Russian front…

"Box me up with a Russian cu–"

"Jack!" Unable to contain herself, Arianna whipped around with her knees on the seat, turning fully to face him so that he could see her revulsion.

"It's just a song," he said with a mocking smirk. "What, is it too much for your virgin ears?"

The others snickered cruelly and she ducked her head slightly so as to conceal the pinkness of her cheeks. "It's not my ears that I'm concerned about," she retorted angrily, leaning hard against her seat's cushioned backrest. "In case you haven't noticed, there are young children on this plane and you're just flat out corrupting them!"

"Hey, we ain't babies," one of the littluns cried out. There was a chorus of "yeah's" as the rest voiced their agreement.

"Lay off Arianna, you guys," said Ralph from the row opposite Jack. She beamed at him, glad that at least one of them was chivalrous enough to rush to her defense.

"Yeah, she can't help being a prude," jeered Roger, which earned a burst of laughter from the boys and a high-five from Jack.

Her head snapped up as she straightened her back to glare at him. "Excuse me?" she asked coldly, already assuming a combative stance.

"Well, after Brian told us what happened on your date," intervened Jack. "It would only make sense to think that –"

"Oh. So that's what Brian said about me?" said Arianna, her eyes flashing, unable to quell the acid from her voice. "Well, let me tell you: the only thing that pathetic little weed will be hooking up with is his hand and nothing else!"

Captain Benson, who appeared to have tuned into their little exchange at last, looked at her in alarm. "Why – Miss Lovejoy! I would never have expected such crude language coming from a young lady such as yourself!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack and Roger tittering behind their hands, which did nothing to lessen her rage. "Captain Benson," she exclaimed. "Weren't you listening to them earlier?"

"Boys will be boys," he told her dismissively. "But you would do well to mind your tongue, Miss Lovejoy. I doubt your father would be pleased if he heard you talking like that."

Arianna bit back a cutting retort as she turned around and sunk sulkily down into her seat, wanting nothing more than to disappear. Sexist captain, sexist boys. They better land soon, or else she would be driven to insanity. Just as she was about to embark on a lengthy mental tirade on the injustices of being a girl, the plane gave a violent and unexpected lurch. Most of the boys were not wearing their safety belts and were then jostled out of their seats. Even Benson looked nervous when he stood up, saying he was going to have a word with the pilot. The plane shook once more, the overhead lights flickering off, adding to everyone's panic.

"What the hell was that?" yelled Jack above the rising commotion.

From the back of the airplane came a sudden explosion. Arianna was launched forward with a piercing shriek along with several of the boys. They were all rolling down the aisle as the nose of the plane plunged downward. She could feel shoes and elbows colliding painfully with her back. Amidst the chaos, she could make out the screeching sound of ripping metal as the left side of the plane split open. They were falling – rapidly, she realized – and all she could see was water.

A fragment of metal came hurtling into the plane's interior. Arianna saw it just in time; she ducked and covered her head with her arms. Behind her, she heard a loud groan as a body slammed down on top of her. It was adult-sized, telling her it had to be Captain Benson. Screaming, her hands flailed about as she tried to throw him off of her.

But it was no use. They were all piled on top of each other by now – a bundle of bodies hurtling toward oblivion.

A/N: There it is, the first chapter. What do you think of it so far? Please review, because I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!

I should also add that the rating of this story will probably go up. It may not seem this way now, but DG will definitely be darker and more dramatic than what I've written in the past. Just be warned!