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collecting-stories · 4 years

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The Arrival - Ep. 01 - JJ Maybank

Summary: The pogues (and Sarah) decide to get away from the Outer Banks for senior week though Sarah’s suggestion that they spend the vacation with a friend of hers doesn’t sit well with JJ, who just wanted a week away with friends. Though his opinion of the situation may change his expectation that nothing will go according to plan is truer than they could have hoped.

A/N: This is a ‘they’re just regular teens and there was no gold hunt’ AU. This will be a 5 part story.

The S’week Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

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“No.” JJ shook his head, “no, no, absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked, looking back at her boyfriend for support. John B quickly looked away, staring out at the marsh in order to avoid the conversation.

“Why not? Because I’m not spending senior week with a bunch of fucking kooks while they prance around like their in some MTV reality show!” JJ stresses, voice raised. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it stuck up all over the place.

“It might not be so bad,” Kie cut in, regretting it almost immediately when JJ looked over at her, “you said yourself that we’ve done senior week here...let’s do ours somewhere else?”

“Sure. Wherever you want as long as it’s not a trip to kookland.”

“You are so dramatic, oh my god JJ. Last time I checked you weren’t exactly rolling in it. How do you propose we pay for a week down the beach?” Sarah pointed out.

“You got money.”

“You shouldn’t even be going! It’s not like you fucking graduated, this is senior week. For graduating seniors.” Sarah waved her hand to indicate her, John B, Kiara, and Pope.

“Screw you!”

“Guys!” Pope finally intervened, pushing his best friend back, “okay, let’s cool down.”

“Can we please just go to the keys? I’m sick of wasting my time arguing. If we’re going we need to leave tomorrow morning...early.” Sarah said, looking pointedly at JJ.

“Hey, I’m always on time!”

Despite his protests JJ was exactly where he said he’d be on Friday morning at 5:30a. Sitting outside John B’s house, on time and with his bag packed for Florida. He was the first one to arrive, followed by Kiara who’d almost been early if it wasn’t for the half hour argument she’d gotten into with her mom for leaving the week after graduation. As if that wasn’t ritual.

JJ said nothing, unusually quite and still completely pissed that everyone had been so on board with Sarah’s plan to spend Senior Week in Florida with some friend at their grandparents’ vacation home. He wanted a chill holiday, just the four of them (five because John B couldn’t be separated from Sarah) spending every day on the beach. He didn’t want some kook vacation laying around a pool drinking vodka in crystal light and talking about ‘daddy’s credit card’ and whatever dumb shit else they did on their weekends.

With the Twinkie packed to exploding with teenagers and luggage John B took the first leg of the drive south. JJ spent the trip sitting behind the passenger’s seat, rolling blunts in his lap and ignoring his friends excitement for senior week. When Kiara nudged his leg halfway to Florida and he looked over she smiled sympathetically at him.

“It might be a good week.” Kiara tried to sound reassuring, knowing that it was JJ’s idea to go away in the first place and that they had in fact hijacked his plans, “at least the change of scenery will be nice?”

“So far the only good thing about this trip is not being home for a week.” JJ replied, refocusing on his task. He would definitely murder one of them if he didn’t spend the week at least somewhat buzzed. If you asked anyone in the obx they’d tell you that JJ was laid back and chill, a go-with-the-flow, weed smoking, kid who would probably never grow out of his ‘it is what it is’ phase. But that wasn’t JJ at all. Sure, he could hit up a kegger at the drop of a hat but he liked a plan and he liked the plan to consider him as an important factor. Not just another nameless sidekick to John B’s summer. And so far, that’s exactly what this senior week was shaping up to become.

“It’ll be fine dude.” Pope said, voice low so he wouldn’t draw anyone else’s attention in the van.

JJ looked up at him and frowned before nodding. What else could he do but nod and pretend that he agreed with anything that Pope said. They were already halfway to Florida and no one cared about his opinion.

Sometime after that JJ fell asleep, Kiara taking the same case of blunts from his lap and folding everything up into his backpack. By the time Pope pulled the Twinkie into the horseshoe driveway of a house bigger than Tannyhill, JJ had woken up again, rubbing his eyes as he looked out the window.

“This is the shit I was talking about.” He said.

Sarah whipped around, hair flying against her shoulders as she glared at him, “for god sake JJ, can you have a good fucking time? Please.”

John B made a face, pleading with his best friend to chill. All he wanted was a stress free vacation and the fact that Sarah’s friend was willing to let them stay aided his ability to relax. If only it would aid JJ’s.

You were standing outside on the steps when the bus pulled up, engine cutting in the middle of the horseshoe. Kiara recognized you from school and Pope recognised you from running groceries for his dad. Sarah pulled the door open and jumped out, throwing her arms around your shoulders.

“Oh my god, you have no idea how much I missed you.” Sarah said, pulling away, “I’m literally gonna kill everyone, starting with JJ.”

“That makes two of us princess.” JJ remarked, glaring at her as he climbed out of bus.

“Hey,” Kiara called, drawing attention away from JJ and Sarah, “thanks for having us.”

“Trust me I was just happy to tell Scarlett that her and Kelce couldn’t stay here.” You replied, looking over at JJ, “I’d much rather spend my senior week with you guys.”

“Flattered.”

“Hey, you’ve never had to sit around listening to Topper talk about workouts.” You replied, feeling unusually proud of yourself when JJ cracked a smile.

“Oh come on, you can’t just do a bench press without the proper preparation,” JJ joked, imitating Topper’s ‘bro’ dialect.

You laughed and nodded, following him to the trunk to help them unload packs. “Hey Pope, my mom said you got that scholarship you were going for?” You mentioned as you grabbed Sarah’s bag.

“I did yeah,” he smiled, surprised that you knew or remembered anything about it. He definitely considered you better than some of the other kooks on the island but that didn’t make you friends with him. You were just someone he delivered groceries to every once in a while.

Once the bus was unpacked you led the group inside, beginning the tour of the house. You lived on Figure Eight in the Outer Banks and you had a house as nice as or better than the Camerons’ but this house was even nicer than that. Your grandparents had old money and they had used it to retire to the Florida Keys where they really only spent the winter months.

“There are four guest bedrooms, you can divy them up however you want to, I’m this bedroom,” you pointed to the closed door behind you at the end of the hall. “The master is off limits, it’s my grandparents and they’ll murder all of you before JJ even gets the chance if you step foot in their room.” You instructed, looking over to JJ as you spoke. He smiled.

“How’ll they know?” He asked, looking down the hall toward the double doors of the master bedroom. This house could fit four of his inside of it. He shifted his weight as he looked around the hallway, the art on the wall looked like something he would have seen on a field trip to a museum, ugly and old but a clear representation of their wealth.

“There’s a camera in their room.”

“Kinky.”

“Ew, oh my god JJ!” You practically gagged, causing him to laugh as Sarah scrunched up her face at the thought of your grandparents using the camera for anything more than G rated. “Moving on!” You continued through the whole house until you’d looped back around, reminding them again that the beach let out right behind the patio.

Once the tour was over you pulled Sarah away from John B, telling her that you needed to talk to her alone. And truthfully, you did. You hadn’t been lying when you told her that you had turned Kelce and Scarlett away for the week. Kelce had texted you days before Sarah and asked about ‘all of us’ getting together for senior week at your grandparents. You knew what ‘all of us’ meant. Him, Scarlett, Topper, and (despite having graduated two years earlier), Rafe. If Sarah was still hanging out with them she would’ve been there too. That was the senior week Scarlett had always planned for but there wasn’t anything you wanted less in life than spending time with all your least favorite people.

While everyone else unpacked you led Sarah into the kitchen, “so, I told you Kelce had texted me about them doing senior week here?”

“Yeah, but they’re not...”

“No,” you shook your head, “no I told them I had a full house. But they are here.”

“What do you mean here?”

“I mean they rented a place down the street. Like we can see their house from this house. Topper texted me this morning before you guys got here.” You fished your phone out of your pocket and showed Sarah the text that Topper had sent along with the picture of you out on your deck.

“Bit stalkerish.”

“Sarah, not the point.”

“Look, it’s fine,” she replied, trying to play off that maybe she actually believed that it was fine, “they can do their thing and we’ll do ours.”

“Yeah, that would totally be fine. Except your brother is here too.”

Sarah groaned, “fuck.”

“What’s the matter?”

You and Sarah turned to find John B and JJ coming into the kitchen, the latter going straight for the fridge and pulling out one of the beers that you had bought before they came down. You watched as he popped the cap off on the counter and took a long gulp, head tilted back. Sarah smacked your arm to get your attention and both of the boys turned to look at her too.

“Topper told me that he’s here for senior week. Him, Scarlett, Kelce...Rafe.”

“Oh cool...cool, awesome...so, the kook fucking vacation I said I didn’t want.” JJ replied, grip tightening around the beer bottle. Sarah rolled her eyes.

“It’s fine. It’s not like we have to see them.” John B replied, trying to ease his friend’s mood. He didn’t need this argument to flare up again. JJ had only just started to relax and the last thing John B wanted was for him to be in a shitty mood all week.

“Except we always do. It’s fucking like...what’s the word?”

“Kismet?” You asked, pulling yourself up to sit on the counter as Kiara and Pope joined the small gathering.

“What’s kismet?” Kiara asked, shaking her head when John B offered her a beer.

“Topper and” Sarah waved her hand as if to indicate the rest of the group, “them are here.”

“What is kismet?” JJ asked, leaning toward you.

“It means fate or destiny.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it is. It’s my destiny to have the shittest fucking time imaginable because we all had to agree to Sarah’s kook vacation.”

“What is that, your vocabulary word for the day? I’m sorry that I didn’t envision senior week as us sitting around together in a dumpster motel with a bunch of other pogues trying to pretend that we’re not still in the Outer Banks. How dare I fucking plan an actual good vacation that you, oh that’s right, don’t have to pay for!”

“Guys,” Pope stressed the word as he stepped between Sarah and JJ, “can we please just focus on having a good time?”

“I’d have an awesome time if I was anywhere but here!” JJ shoved passed Pope and headed out the sliding glass doors toward the beach leaving the five of you to stand in the kitchen awkwardly.

“So...” Kiara began, looking around at the group, “so Topper is here?”

“Topper, Kelce, Scarlett-”

“She’s a bitch.” Sarah cut in.

“-and Rafe.”

“Isn’t your brother a little too old to be partying on senior week?” Pope asked, looking toward Sarah. Rafe was at least two years into college by now, there was no way he should’ve been hanging around a bunch of high school kids. “Didn’t he already have a senior week?”

“He’ll probably go on senior week with Wheezie too.” You joked, “anything to party.”

“Honestly.” Sarah agreed. She had a feeling her brother’s intention was for more than just partying. If Kelce had planned to stay with you than it was obvious why Rafe was even coming down in the first place though she wasn’t about to say anything to anyone right now. Kiara, she assumed, knew that you had broken up with Rafe over spring break but she doubted that it was common island knowledge that you had been dating him at all.

Pope suggested that it was a good idea to leave JJ be, that he’d eventually cool down and come inside on his own, especially once he realized that he had no means to get back to North Carolina. He either came in and accepted that this was the vacation they were getting or he camped out on the beach, either way he was stuck in Florida for the week. Still, you couldn’t help feeling guilty that he was having a shitty time. When Sarah had asked if she could stay with you for the week you had stressed whether it was okay with her friends or not.

That guilty feeling was completely, so you said, the reason for heading down the beach to find JJ. “I did ask Sarah if it was cool with you guys...coming down here. I know it’s not exactly what you had in mind.” You offered as you sat beside JJ on the beach. In another hour the sun would be completely gone from the sky, the oranges and pinks in the horizon hinting at the coming night.

“I feel like I should be bitching to a confessional about how much I can’t stand Sarah right now.” He replied.

“I mean, you could try it?” You teased, moving so your back was to the water and you were facing him, “alright JJ, tell us what’s got you so upset and try to include a tragic story from your past.”

JJ cracked a smile, meeting you eyes as he put on his best reality show sob voice, “I’m just like, really pissed at Sarah and it totally reminds me of the summer my turtle died.”

You couldn’t help the burst of laughter as you fell back into the sand. JJ joined in, sour mood getting shelved for another day. He honestly didn’t hate the view or being near a beach, or the incredibly comfortable mattress that he had in the room he had claimed for himself. He was even hesitant to complain about you. Not quite the stuck-up kook that he expected, you’d been welcoming to them since the Twinkie first pulled into your driveway.

“If it’s Top and them you aren’t thrilled about I don’t blame you. I was definitely looking forward to a drama free week and I feel like that might have just become unattainable. But, we’ll avoid them best we can and focus on other stuff.” You said, trying to ease his upset.

“Other stuff like?”

“Other stuff like, I got invited to a party down the beach tonight...if you wanna go?” You asked, “I mean who can be sad when they’re drunk?”

“John B...never let him talk to you when he’s drunk.” JJ replied. He stood up and offered you his hand to grab.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You said, texting Sarah that you were headed down to a party with JJ.

The party wasn’t far away and groups of people had already gathered despite it still being early in the night. People who had just shifted from lounging on the beach to the beginnings of what would become a party. It was still in the transition between disjointed groups sunbathing and people getting drunk as you and JJ walked up. He was quiet as you walked through people trying to find somewhere to set yourselves up.

You weren’t sure if Sarah would really show up with everyone or if she was so peeved with JJ’s attitude that she’d stay away for the night. You kept an eye out for any sign of Topper or anyone else in his group, hoping to avoid them for as long as possible. Maybe the whole week if you were truly lucky.

Beach parties in the keys were not as good as the boneyard parties you were used to but it would have to do for tonight. A little less chill and relaxed, people seemed to be forcing the good time as opposed to just letting it happen. The chill vibe that you felt like it should’ve had was non-existent but you weren’t entirely sure that wasn’t just you projecting. Maybe everyone else was already having a good time and you were trying too hard already for the sake of the boy trailing behind you. People had coolers sitting around with different seltzers, hard lemonades, seagrams, and locos but not a plain beer in sight. JJ complained about the missing keg and you tried to make up for it by offering him a peach Jack Daniels. You took a can of something called Unicorn Swirl, bypassing other people on the beach to sit up on the lifeguard’s deck.

“This is disgusting, by the way.” JJ mentioned as he took a drink, face screwing up at the overtly sweet taste of the peach. He downed another gulp quickly, trying to trick his brain into not realizing the taste and only getting the alcohol.

“You’ll be hard pressed to find a keg here.”

“So what I’m hearing is, even the parties are shit?”

“Not total shit-” you paused to take a sip of your drink, JJ laughing as you almost spit it out. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting!” You gagged at the after taste, holding the 16oz can out for JJ to take, “try it.”

“You just spit it out and you want me to try it?”

“Just...you have to experience it...I can’t even describe that taste.” You replied, taking the peach from him to wash down the taste. “It doesn’t even have a flavor.”

JJ kicked it back, tilting his head and gulping. The sugary taste of whatever flavor they intended it to be made him gag worse than you had and he leaned all the way forward, spitting most of it back out onto the sand. “Holy shit! That is the worst fucking thing I’ve ever had in my life!” He exclaimed, “it tastes like fucking medicine! Why did you make me drink that?”

“I didn’t make you.” You insisted, taking a sip from his peach.

“You literally held it in my face and told me I ‘had to experience it’. How is that not making me?”

“Yeah but I told you it was gross before you drank it so you already knew that.”

“I can’t believe you brought me to a beach party with nothing to drink.” He replied, taking another, smaller sip from the can and pulling a face as he made himself swallow.

“Why are you still drinking that?”

“Trying to get drunk enough that this whole vacation doesn’t suck.” He shrugged.

“Hey!” You reached over and smacked his arm, “the whole thing doesn’t suck! I’m super cool, what’re you talking about!”

“Except you brought me to this party so...not as cool as you think you are.” He took another sip and gagged again, “god I have to stop drinking this.”

“Come on,” you put your peach down and grabbed the unicorn from his hand to abandon that on the lifeguard stand as well, “I know there’s a distributor around here...lets get some real beer.”

“Sounds good to me, anything but this.” JJ replied, following you away from the crowd of people on the beach.

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lennydaisy · 4 years

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EPIPHANY SERIES // OUTER BANKS // CHAPTER THREE.

(n.) a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand. or suddenly become conscious of something that is very important to you.

“Care to seize the day, my friend?”

Outer Banks Season 1- FEM OC! and ?

Here’s the link to Chapter Two in case you haven’t read it already <3 Check it out!!

Babysitting isn't for everybody. And at the beginning, I didn't think I was for me either. They say every child is different and this job has proved that couldn't be more true. Call it delusion, but I thought babysitting would be the easiest job on the planet. Getting paid to look after someone's kid for a few hours whilst they run for the hills for a sliver of free time. Sounds easy enough right?

Wrong!

You need to have thick skin when it comes to babysitting. No matter how much the parents reassure and praise their kid for being a literal angel on earth. That said angel will call you a do-do head at least once whilst simultaneously having a tantrum because you told them no, despite how much they promised that their parents allow them to climb onto of the refrigerator.

The first time I babysat it was actually a baby I was watching. The mom wanted to get out of the house and away from the responsibility of her 6-month-old. She had graciously written up any and every scenario that could play out in the few hours she was gone. And I was feeling confident. Until I wasn't.

They wouldn't stop crying. And their special lamb, that the board told me to give to the baby when they were upset, ran out of batteries, and I couldn't find new ones anywhere.

They refused to eat, just spitting the pureed food back in my face. They also wouldn't keep their socks on and that was the last straw for my sanity. I understood now why the mom had been quick to run out the door.

I ended up calling Kie, begging for her to come and help. I don't know how she understood a word I said, I was practically hyperventilating over the line, staring at the baby who was crawling around in a fit of rage.

Kie was truly a godsend. She somehow fed the baby and managed to get them to sleep before the mom came back. It did result in me splitting my first wage with Kie, but I wasn't complaining, I was just happy that I made it out of that house with just a headache and not an external crisis. Though that did come later.

I've babysat an 8-year-old boy, who ran away from me in the park. I did find him eventually. After giving myself a hairline fracture in my right wrist from climbing the tree he got stuck in.

I've babysat animals before. That wasn't part of my non-existing contract, but the way they spoke about their pets was very humanlike. It didn't end well for me, it never does. It resulted in me holding four leashes of four overly excited Komodo Dragons. Just kidding. The refused to move and lacked any type of emotion.

'I took you guys to the beach, be grateful.'

Now, I know what you're thinking, Komodo Dragons? Aren't those Illegal to have as pets? The answer to that question is yes! But I didn't know that. Just imagine Shoupe's face when he saw me practically dragging not one, but four, exotic animals across the boneyard. It looked suspicious is all I'm going to say.

Turns out the two guys who asked me to babysit their dragons for them we're smugglers who purchased and sold exotic animals. Not good. Apparently, they were already under the police departments radar and the pair planned on legging it to the in-country hoping to change and clear their names.

That worked out well for them, I think? Nothing else was really mentioned of it after my dad collected me from the police station. They're still on the radar, I hope. If not then there are two brawny men out there that could come and kill me in my sleep for ruining their very illegal business. Look, If you are up to some suspect things, my dumbass is the last person you'd want to be involved. I will unironically get you caught.

That's how Ward Cameron had heard about my very pristine babysitting service. Noticing the little bit of trouble that always seemed to shadow me, he offered to hire me permanently as his youngest daughter's babysitter.

That was three years ago, and here I am still babysitting Wheezie.

"This is stupid," Wheezie complains, trudging behind me, pushing forward the shopping cart filled with lost items that we found on the beach.

Since there is no internet in Kookland, in other words, Wheezie's heart line is currently in critical care. I decided to venture outdoors with her for a change. Instead of just sitting around her three-storey clubhouse or in her four-acre backyard, I thought it would be nice to comb the beach of any debris that the hurricane brought along.

There was a lot of personal items that washed up on the beach too. Wallets, bags, photographs, books, clothes, wine bottles, footballs, toys, you get the gist. Most of them were ruined, either waterlogged or just completely useless. However, somethings just needed a good clean, and that's what we are going to spend our day doing. There is no way of telling what belongs to who, so we'll just turn them into the lost and found and hope they'll check there if it was important enough to them.

Our two trollies worth didn't even make a dent in the rubble that litters the beach, but it was a start. Say hello to a summer of hard labour.

"There was a hurricane Wheezie, have some sympathy" I roll my eyes at the girl who was less than thrilled about today's plans.

"I do have sympathy," she claims defensively, "It's just pointless. No one's gonna come looking for this junk," eyes flickering through the findings in her trolley.

What we found isn't pointless. They belong to someone. I think about it the same way I did as a kid when I wanted every single teddy bear in my bed at night so none got left out, so I didn't hurt their feelings. A ragged old soccer ball might look worse for wear, but it has a home and I going to get it back there.

"It's not junk," I object, stopping momentarily, waiting for the stroppy pre-teen to catch up. "Say you lost your phone and someone found it, and returned it too you. You wouldn't be grateful?" I theorize in terms that I know she would understand.

"My dad would just get me a new one," she shrugs nonchalantly, not missing a beat.

"Well, not everyone's fortunate that way," I remind her, blinking suddenly as the sun shines on something reflective in the cart, blinding me.

Reaching towards the sparkling object, I realise that it appears to be quite expensive. It's a glass ashtray. Rubbing the damp sand off the surface, my thumb feels an engraving. In swirly calligraphy, reads the initials:

'S.G'

"I'm sorry," Wheezie apologizes, wincing when she heard my comment, "I didn't think-"

"-It's okay," I smile at the girl. It's not like I don't understand my current life situation. It's pretty shitty, I know, but I live with it. I was born a Pogue for a reason. I wasn't supposed to be born with a silver spoon in my mouth, though that doesn't mean I hate those who are. They have it easier than me and my family, sure, but that's just how it is in the Outer Banks. Some are more fortunate than others. It does, however, leave a sour taste in my mouth that Kook parents will just throw money at there children to get them to shut up, but that's just a Pogue's opinion.

The generators haven't kicked in yet, seeing as though the Camerons security code gate is bouncing loosely against its unlocked hinges. Holding the gate open for Wheezie to push by with her cart, I catch a glimpse of their usually perfectly mowed lawn. Instead, I see plenty of fallen trees and scattered branches, broken plant pots, and ruined garden monuments. It’s not a good look, especially for the high-class Camerons.

That just goes to show, hurricane's don't show mercy on anyone, Kook or not.

As a wise man once said; 'Thanks Agatha, ya batch.'

Parking our carts beside the Cameron's private pool, away from the workers who are just trying to do their jobs. I turn to Wheezie saying, "You go get some soapy water and gloves and I'll empty the carts."

Nodding her head, she rushes into her house, leaving me slightly confused, 'Where did the sudden enthusiasm come from?'

Emptying the carts, I lay out what needs to be cleaned the most: from a bronze candlestick holder to a old, yet unique, shoe buckle, and everything in between. And of course, the ashtray.

Holding it gently in my palms, legs crossed against the cold slabs, I couldn't help but feel hypnotised by the intricate marks that littered the tray. It truly was a lost treasure.

"I'll take that," announces a voice from behind my hunched figure, jumping when a hand snatches the tray from my grip.

Coming to my feet, I'm ready to snatch the tray back from the sudden thief, but I stop when I realise who it is. Why am I not surprised, I am on their turf.

If it isn't dumb, dumber and dumbest.

Throwing the delicate glass from hand to hand, Rafe lets out a low whistle, "Check the weight on that," he tosses it to Kelce who was standing tall behind him. Kelce nods his head in approval, of course agreeing with what Rafe has to say.

"Who did you steal that from Pogue?" Rafe smirks thinking he has me sussed out. Not wanting to give the satisfaction that him lobbing around the ashtray is causing me heart amputations, I stare him in the eye, "I didn't steal it. I found it."

"You did, did you," he utters pushing past me, his head low with a sick smile, taking in the view of the tressures that I had laid out, "And what about all this? Did you just find that too?"

I say nothing. He knows the answer to that question. I already told him. I don't need to explain myself, especially not to Rafe Cameron.

His eyes flicker over Wheezie and I's findings, taking in each and everyone with a curious eye, before he cracked, "Bunch of junk," kicking some of the items into the pool.

All I could do was stare. Stare as someone's possessions sunk to the bottom of the marble pool, clashing and crumbling at the foot of Rafe. I fell sick.

His friend just laughs, egging him on. Kelce patting him proudly on the back, handing him back the ashtray. Rafe turns to face me, that smirk never leaving his face, but I can't look at him. I refuse to.

"-Hey Rafe, dad's looking for you," a soft voice breaks the harsh glare that Rafe was sending my way. Nodding his head at the voice, he holds the ashtray out for me to take.

It was too good to be true.

Gullible enough, I reach out for it, only to have it slip through my fingertips. Unable to hear the shattering of the glass as it hits the red slab, my brain refuses to accept fate as I stare down at the shards.

Laughing lightly, I bite my lip, nodding my head understandingly, not expecting anything less from Rafe. A sharp grip on my wrist snaps up my damp eyes, "See you later, Pogue," he hisses in my numb ear, before marching away as though nothing happened.

Sensing a presence, I meet eyes with the 3rd and final member of Rafe's crowd.

Topper.

Smiling lopsidedly at the well put together boy who hasn't moved or spoken since showing up, "Nice friends you've got there Topper," I say monotoned, watching as the boy snaps out of his trance-like state before following Rafe with a blank expression and his tail between his legs.

Shuddering out a breath, I unclip my waist bag and begin to pick up the chunks of glass. Pausing when a pair of clean, white shoes entre my line of sight, "Careful," she crounches down, picking up a shard, placing it into my bag.

A few minutes of picking up the sizable pieces, all that was left on the slabs was a glittering shimmer. Satisfied with what was salvaged, we stand back up to our full height. It was silent. Awkwardly silent.

"Thank you," I shyly say, not at all pleased that the Cameron girl had caught me in a moment of weakness, but at least she didn't mock me for it.

"Your welcome," she smiles before reaching for the tennis rackets she had thrown on the ground before coming to help me. Certain that was the end of the exchange, I turned back to the pool where pieces of metal and loose book pages float carelessly on the surface.

It was just a bunch of junk anyway.

"Hey," Sarah turns, rubbing the back of her head subconsciously, "I'm going to save mice from the birds," she says, pointing out to the bottom of her garden where the surge has blown over, waterlogging the grass.

I just blink at the girl, confused as to why she is even telling me this. Letting out a gentle huff, "I have a spare racket," she offers, holding out one of the two rackets she has in her hands.

Finally catching what she's throwing, I look anywhere but her direction, "I can't," hoping to find a legit excuse as to why I don't want to help her be a hero for mice. Then it hit me, "I'm supposed to be babysitting Wheezie."

My triumphant smile fell as fast as it came when Sarah says, "The powers back on, Wheezie will not willingly come outside again," still holding out the bat for me to take, "Also, my dad's back, so your shift ended about 20 minutes ago."

The more reasons she adds, the more difficult she is making it to say no, and she knows it as well. Her eyebrows dancing lightly as she waves the racket around like a tempting treat.

Giving in, seeing as though I have run out of excuses to give, I grudgingly accept the racket. Maybe her being the sworn enemy of my best friend would have been a good excuse, but I didn't think of that at the time. And what would I of said:

'Oh, I can't help you, even though you selflessly helped me, because my best friend hates your guts.'

What are we, middleschoolers?

I can't help but feel wrong about it though. Like I'm betraying my role as a pogue, as a best friend. But if I feel that way about just being near the kook princess, that doesn't make me any better than her brother. A judgmental prick.

Let's call it paying back a debt. She helped me, now I'll help her. Tit for tat. Anything to make my mind feel at ease.

Walking behind the women who seemed to be on a mission, I'm met by the shrieking flock of overhead seagulls, each nosediving into the burrows, hoping to catch their next meal.

"Operation ‘Save The Mice’ is a go," she announces, holding out her racket waiting for me to tap mines against hers, declaring our battle. I couldn't help but wonder aloud, "Why does this concern us?" tapping my racket unsurely against hers.

Nodding her head in confirmation, she takes her stance, eyes now set on the sky. "You have about as much compassion as a rock," she focusses her swing, untimely missing by a long shot. It was entertaining to watch, I'm not going to lie.

"Tell me something I don't know," I reply, leaping back as the girl swings her racket with vigour and fury at the diving gulls. I can't help but laugh at her attempts.

Having enough of my laughter she turns around, a challenging look flaring in her eyes, "Think you can do any better?"

I just shrug my shoulders, twirling the racket around my fingers, smirking at my trick, but Sarah just looks unimpressed. Watching as a flock of gulls take their position to dive, I jump as high as possible hoping to swat them away.

At that moment I learned something about human capability. Humans shouldn't jump. Like ever. It's embarrassing. What do we expect? To touch the stars? It's nice to dream and imagine that when we push both legs of the ground, arms reaching high, that we are close to flying. Let's just say my non-existing dream to become an Olympic long jumper has just flushed down the toilet.

Another thing I learned is that when you swing a racket, with force, at a cluster of hungry Seagulls, you will get attacked. The only thing between them and they're next meal is me, and they didn't hesitate to remove me from the situation.

Letting out a shriek, I run away from the burrows, hands protecting my head as the birds swoop at me. Without a second thought, I run behind Sarah, using her as a shield to protect my crouching figure from the diving gulls.

After two minutes of fearing for my life, I can't help but chuckle at myself. And Sarah joins in, shoving my arm lightly, pushing me away from hiding behind her. The sudden shove causes me to stumble over my own feet, falling back on the grass. I couldn't help but laugh more, seeing stars as my stomach cramps in pain.

Sarah holds out her hand, trying her best to keep her balance from laughing, offering to help me up. I accept without a second thought, allowing her to pull me to my feet. Both smiling widely at our stupidity.

"Let's get these birds," I smirked at the girl who nodded her head in agreement. Both of us taking a battle stance, ready to defend our people. Or well Mice. They attack us, we attack them.

A cold shadow suddenly covers the setting sun that was shining against us. We let out another shriek, holding each other as we attempt to duck from the relentless gulls, running away from the burrows.

"Sarah!" I hear someone shout over our screams. Too busy protecting ourselves, we didn't even register the voice, "Mason?!" They ask in confusion.

Finally feeling safe enough from the killer birds, I look up to see Mr Cameron making his way towards us with Lana Grubbs at his side. 'Why is she here?'

"We're busy!" Sarah exclaims, picking up and tossing me the racket I had dropped when I fell, going back to swinging at the birds. She takes one side of the burrows and I take the other, waving around my racket. At this point I don't even care about the mice, those birds attacked me! So, I'm attacking them!

"What are you two doing?" Mr Cameron asks, not understanding why his daughter and his hired babysitter are running around like headless chickens.

"Saving mice," I reply, flashing my eyes over to the man, who stands with an ever so slightly amused look. "The birds are having a field day," Sarah adds, pulling me with her, chasing after the devils in the sky.

"Girls, the birds have to eat too," He implies, but we didn't hear any of it, still aimlessly swinging. "No, it's a mouse genocide out here," Sarah states breathlessly.

"It's the circle of life," Mr Cameron's patience was running thinner, "Now come on, I have a human being-" finally introducing the other presence in the garden. This pauses our attack, both looking apologetically at the lady, "-I'm so sorry. I'm Sarah."

Shaking the ladies hand, "This is Lana Grubbs, Scooter's wife," Mr Cameron introduces, "You were storm prepping with him, right?" he asks his daughter.

"Yeah," she answers, still breathless, "He helped me latch the cabin to the Druthers," nodding her head in the direction of the docked boat at the end of the pier.

'It's a nice boat,' I thought taking in the beauty of the three-story yacht, 'You can't hide money, huh.'

"Last night?"

"Yeah."

"And did he go out after that?"

"From here?"

"Yeah."

"No. Are you crazy? There was a hurricane," Sarah laughs lightly at the thought of someone willingly going out during a storm.'I could think of a few people,' bringing my attention back to the two adults in front of me.

"Well, did he say where he was going?" Miss Lana asks, her eyes erratic, "Get a phone call or mention anything?" The desperation lacing her voice makes my heart stop with sympathy for the woman.

"He didn't say anything to me," Sarah shakes her head, her tone not hiding her pity for the lady.

"What about you Mason?" Mr Cameron asks me, "Have you seen Scooter recently?" his questions sparking Miss Lana to look my way, her eyes glistening with withering hope.

"The last I saw of him was when Pope and I delivered to your house," regret instantly hit me, as I had to be the bearer of bad news. It was true though. The last time I saw Scooter was earlier this week when he opened the door for his groceries. I've seen him at Save-A-Lot a few times, but that was months ago when I had to tell him to leave because other customers were complaining that he was bothering them for money.

"I'm sorry," I apologise to the lady who just shakes her head, looking at the ground.

"Is he okay?" Sarah asks her dad who just nods, wrapping an arm around Miss Lana, "He's absolutely fine," he reassures Sarah, before guiding the dazed woman back towards the house.

"Oh!" I hear Mr Cameron exclaim, spinning round to face me, digging through his pockets, "Thank you for watching Wheezie today," he says, placing a brown envelope in my hand.

"Thank you, sir," I smile with gratitude as he makes his leave again.

Sighing, I slap the envelope a few times in my hand, turn back to a Sarah. I go to snap her out of her daydream, but get interrupted by a distant voice, "Hey Sarah!"

At the top of the disarranged lawn stood a scornful Topper, hands in his pockets as he looks down on us, making his way over at a snail pace.

"You better go," I flick my head in the direction of her boyfriend whose eyes are slitted with distaste. Holding out the racket for her to take, she nods her head and makes her way over to Topper, not even sparing me a glance.

I get it.

"I want you to stay away from that pogue, alright?" I hear him utter not so quietly under his breath, knowing fine well that I'm still able to hear him. I pay him no mind, finding my own way out. That's what he wants. Attention. That's always been what Toppers wants. And I'm not going to give him that satisfaction. Not anymore.

Humming a gentle tune under my breath as I make my way towards the gate. I double-take when I spot a hunched figure sitting by the pool, "Wheezie?"

My sudden appearance spooking her as she ripped the earphones out from her ears, the buds projecting a catchy pop beat. The girl sat on the cold slabs, clad in yellow rubber gloves and safety goggles, surrounded my various cleaning tools: a basin of soapy water, a toothbrush, a blow torch?

"What are you doing?" I ask sceptically, making my way towards her as she stuttered over her words before giving up with a sigh.

"I heard what Rafe said," she admits, her voice low as though afraid to speak out against her brother. That's the Rafe effect. He gets off on it. Knowing that everyone around him, his family included, is too scared to tell him he's a mess with even messier opinions. "And it not true," she adds.

Wheezie walks over, holding out the shoe buckle that we found on the beach. The once rusted and unrecognisable buckle now sparkled a blinding silver, and despite its eroded corners, it was still in great condition, "Pretty, right?" she notices my expression, "That's not the best part," she claims, turning over the buckle, holding it out of me to take.

Engraved on the silver base scribed, 'Made in Occupied Japan.'

"I couldn't save everything, like books and stuff, but I tried my best. I even made a box and everything," She rambles, rushing over to pick up the homemade box that read, "Lost and Found," painted in bold, pink lettering. In the box sat: a polished pin, the candlestick holder, a handful of leather wallets and all the other salvageable treasure that we found. And now the shoe buckle.

"It's not junk," she says, passing me the box, "They belong to someone and I hope they find them," she says, rubbing the back of her tinted red neck, finally understanding why I had her help me in the first place.

It's not junk.

I'm not great when it comes to other peoples emotions. They make me want to shrivel up and go invisible, but I can't help but admire the girls change of heart, but I'm still awkward so, I just ruffle her hair, hoping the annoying act conveys my gratitude.

Having enough of me for one day, Wheezie pushes me toward the gate, practically kicking me out. "See you next time kid," I shout over my shoulder, smiling as her face grovels at the word 'kid'.

Basking at my long journey home, I give up attempting to balance the light box in my arms. I place it on the sidewalk, unzipping my waist bag wanting to tuck the brown envelope, that I was struggling to hold, away.

The clattering of glass pauses my actions. Reaching in, I pick out a small piece, watching as the setting sun danced across the surface, shining every colour of the rainbow onto the tarmac.

'S.G'

Chapter Three: FIN!

I really enjoyed writing this chapter, even though it’s kind of filler. Kie would be proud of Mason for beach combing, her tendencies are rubbing off on her.

I choose for Mason not to go to the motel because that’s just what I choose, I don’t really have a reason why. Well I do, but I can’t tell you yet. You’ll find out eventually, if my idea goes to plan...

So we learned about Mason very perfessional babysitting service. Also I know that Rafe is, y’know bad, but I’m excited to explore Mason’s relationship with him. It will be interesting to write!

What did you think?

I’m really excited to write the next chapter. Mason is going to get buzzed.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3

Also, if anyone would like to be tagged in future chapters, just let me know and I’ll for sure do that!

*TAGLIST*

@xshinytrashcanx @prejudic3 @annoylinglyaries

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