You didn’t know Travis particularly well- hell, you only knew of the kids existence because of his infamous nickname- ‘flex,’- the fact that he sat behind you in English and asked you for a pencil sometimes, and that he was your football coaches son. However, you were a part of the Yellowjackets soccer team, and had flown out for nationals. What was meant to be an exciting, lifelong memory went to absolute shit. The plane crashed on the way, landing in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. Coach Martinez fell out of the plane, body impaled on a nearby tree. Inevitably, this fucked Travis, and his little brother, Javi up irrevocably- you didn’t even know why either was there in the first place. In the past weeks of living in the wild, Travis had acted Brooding, angry, and even agressive towards the other girls. With you, it wasn’t much different- except he was strangely.. distant. With the other girls, it was a hot, angry dislike, but with you, it was almost aloof. Like he just didn’t even give a shit about your existence. And it wasn’t any different on this particular day, as the both of you were on log-chopping duty outside the cabin, the late summer sun casting a shadow through the cracks in the Forrest. An awkward, inexplicably tense silence brewed between the both of you.