a/n: my first public writing piece ever! please be nice, i’m sensitive :) let me know what you think and if i should publish the entire thing. this is a small part of a bigger series that i want to do and also this is not the first part, just the first part that i wrote! i’ve been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a long time, please let me know what you think! this is a snippet of a rewrite of ep 6 of s2.
Series Summary: Rafe Cameron and Josephine Whittaker. The couple of the Outer Banks. Nobody knew how they made it work. He was brash, arrogant, and viewed pogues as nothing more than the scum on the bottom of his shoe. She was soft-spoken, kind, and despised the social and financial hierarchy. Polar opposites who somehow fell in love. But when the two are caught up in a whirlwind of events surrounding half-a-billion dollars in gold and a historic cross, their love will be tested to the fullest extent.
Preview Summary: Jo goes to make a deal with an unexpected ally.
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x OC (*Rafe isn’t in this snippet, though)
Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs (weed), Barry being a little creepy, not edited
Leaves crunch under her feet after every step. She already sees the beginnings of the mud that caked the bottom of her white Steve Maddens making their way to the sides, becoming more visible the more they trekked through it. She cringes, thinking about how much of a bitch they’re going to be to clean. Her mom was going to have a whole fit if she caught sight of them. She briefly wonders why she wore sneakers, but remembers it’s because her only other options were her sandals and it’s better her shoes be caked in mud rather than her feet.
Y’know what, I’ll just buy a new pair, she thinks as she steps in a particularly deep patch of mud, effectively ruining her current pair. She never stops walking though, her end destination being worth more than ruining a $75 dollar pair of shoes.
She finally stumbles upon the rundown trailer, a place she’d only ever been once before, but had never set foot in. She remembers seeing it through the passenger window of Rafe’s truck, but only for a short moment before he was grabbing what he needed and pulling out of there faster than he had pulled in.
She knew he didn’t want her there longer than she had to be.
She hesitates going up to the front door, realising how out of place she must look. Her stark white jeans, crop top, and (formerly) white shoes are a stark contrast to her surroundings. She’s grateful she didn’t drive because she’s sure her all-white BMW convertible would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb even more than herself.
Climbing the few steps up to the porch, she hesitates again. What was she even going to say? She had rehearsed it over and over again on the way but suddenly couldn’t remember anything she was going to say
Fuck it, she thinks before raising her fist and knocking on the screen door three times.
“Who is it?” a gruff voice shouts from within the house.
“Um, I’m looking for Barry,” she shouts back, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible.
She hears footsteps approaching and she takes a couple seconds to take in her surroundings. The wood is rotten and the floor beneath her creaks with every movement, the off-white, gray-ish color the house had faded into making the house seem dingier than it probably once was.
Not dingy, no, that’s rude, she thinks. Old, just old, She decides.
The screen door swings open, startling her out of her own thoughts. She has to move back quickly to avoid it hitting her, the floorboard beneath her letting out a discouraging squeak.
She comes face to face with Barry, or so she assumes. She hadn’t formally met him, only heard his name from around town and from Rafe a couple of times, but it wasn’t hard to tell. His black hair is pulled back in a ponytail and his outfit consists of a worker’s jumpsuit stained in what looks like grease. He leans against the doorframe with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, eying Jo with curiosity.
“Now, what’s a pretty lil’ thing like you doing out here?” he asks, eyes raking down her body.
Everything she practiced goes out the window and the only thing she can manage is, “I need your help.”
He tongues the inside of his cheek and chuckles.
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” he says with a smirk. He opens the door a little wider and beckons her inside, the smell of weed becoming so strong Jo has to resist the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust. She knows he’s got the wrong idea of what she wants from him, so she figures she has to say something else quick.
“Now, I usually save my good shit for the regulars, but for a pretty lil’ thing like yourself I could–”
“It’s about Rafe.”
Even though his back is turned, she can see him visibly tense at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. She doesn’t know whether or not to take this as a good sign, so she takes a tentative step inside the house. He turns around slowly to face her, making her regret the step she just took. Then he starts to laugh.
Wait, what?
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Barry chuckles, cracking himself up even more, “If it isn’t Mrs. Country Club herself. A pleasure to finally meet you, princess. ”
She cringes internally at both the nicknames he’d given her.
“You two are quite the talk of the town, y’know? Kook prince and kook princess. Try to bring you up around Country Club but he goes apeshit. Said he doesn’t want you involved in this shit,” he smirks. “If only he could see you now.”
“Can I explain or are you just going to keep making fun of me?” she says with a sudden burst of bravery. The frustration and lack of sleep from worrying had manifested itself into a short temper these last few days and her patience was wearing thin.
Barry’s face doesn’t falter, only throwing his hands up in mock surrender before taking a seat on the couch.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mrs. Cameron?” he jabs, kicking his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. “What’s your name again, sweetheart? Jessica? Jenny? Julia?”
“Josephine.”
He snaps his fingers in the air as if he finally remembered even though she knew he couldn’t give less of a fuck.
She takes a deep breath before speaking, afraid that if she doesn’t start now she’ll lose her courage.
“Rafe needs help. Like actual, real help. The longer Ward is able to tell him what to do, the worse he’s going to get and I’m afraid of what’s going to happen when worse comes to worst,” she starts, willing herself not to cry in front of Barry. She has a gut feeling that he wouldn’t be the most sympathetic.
“Rose isn’t going to do anything about it as long as Ward’s involved. I don’t want Wheezie to be involved any more than she is. He doesn’t trust Sarah. He doesn’t trust anyone right now except for me and, for some reason, you,” she states as she crosses her arms defensively. She wishes she could do this on her own but she knows deep down that Rafe opens up more to Barry than he does to her. She ignores the pit in her stomach that forms at that thought.
“We’re his best shot at getting the help that he needs.”
Barry’s face has dropped from the amused grin he had before, his jaw now clenched with a scowl. He kisses his teeth before scoffing, “What makes you think I want to help him, let alone you?”
“Because I know you’ve noticed. And I know you’ve been letting him stay here from time to time,” she challenges. Though they never crossed paths often, Jo knew Barry had been Rafe’s first point of contact with this whole Ward-John B-Sarah situation. Another blow to her chest.
“As for me,” she says, reaching into her crossbody slowly just in case he thinks she has a weapon, “I have this.”
Barry’s eyes lock on the wad of cash between her fingers and she knows she’s got him. If she’d learn anything from being a kook, it’s that everyone has a price. Wildly unethical, but necessary when you lived in a place like the Outer Banks. She throws the wad towards him, watching as he catches it and begins to inspect it.
“And how do I know you won’t fuck me over like your lil’ boyfriend did?” he asks, never taking his eyes off the cash.
“Because there’s more where that came from,” she promises. “And I know you’ll be able to do it.”
Barry ponders for a moment before his amused grin returns.
All the fics I read and loved in the month of April!
I feel like it’s mostly JJ Maybank this month…I feel like every time April hits I start looking forward to summer and that just automatically puts me in an OBX kinda mood.
“This is kind of a lame party, huh?” You chanced asking, feeling a little awkward as you stood in the large kitchen at Tanney Hill. There was some background music that you didn’t recognise, no doubt whatever Rose found on Spotify when she typed in ‘graduation party playlist’. In an effort to get away from the suffocating afternoon affair you’d slipped into the kitchen, hoping to find a few extra desserts left behind or a good bottle of vodka that Rose wouldn’t notice anyone pilfering.
Instead you found a Pogue, one you recognised almost immediately as Sarah’s boyfriend’s friend Pope…a little long winded but at least you had some information. You’d been surprised but also relieved when you’d seen Sarah’s less than savoury friends show up for the party. Maybe it wouldn’t be so dull after all. It was a pipe dream though because an hour into the afternoon and you realized that no look could escape the inevitable graduation party of stuffy family and friends doing their best interpretation of coastal grandmother, chatting about vacation spots and college studies and eating hor d’oeuvres.
“More than kind of,” Pope laughed, tapping the steamless plastic wine glass against his chin before taking a sip. He’d filled it with lemonade that JJ had tried to top off with alcohol and almost succeeded in actually doing. The slightly sour taste of the lemons offset the entire afternoon and even surrounded by his friends he’d needed an escape from feeling out of place.
“So who are you hiding from?” You asked, looking around as if someone might enter the kitchen and interrupt your time together.
“No one in particular,” Pope replied, unsure how to accurately explain that he felt like he wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place. He tried so hard, aware that his friends didn’t recognise the effort he made to fit in with them, but it never felt like enough. He never felt outgoing enough or funny enough or cool enough. If he mentioned it, he was sure it would be followed with a chorus of reassuring ‘you’re a pogue, through and through’ that he’d have to accept and pretend changed anything about how he was feeling.
“Well since we’re both hiding from ‘no one in particular’, want to go outside?” You asked, looking back toward the double doors that led out to the veranda. The garden and pool area, unoccupied, we’re decorated in twinkle lights that looks like stars through the glass.
“What’s outside?” Pope asked, watching as you grabbed a bottle of white wine that had been chilling on ice.
“A good hiding spot,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders.
Pope followed you to the glass French doors, slipping out into the warm night with you and wondering if this was all really a good idea. He had seen you around and, if he had seen you, surely you had seen him before. You had to know who his friends were, who his parents were, where he lived. You had to know he wasn’t a kook. So what were you doing entertaining your time with him. He wanted to ask, the question was right there on the tip of his tongue, but then he was afraid he wouldn’t like the answer. That maybe this was just that, entertainment. A funny past time of watching a pogue like Pope trip over themselves to say something intelligible or interesting so you could laugh later with your friends over lunch at the Island Club.
“I heard you’re going to med school in the fall?” You asked, taking a sip of the wine as you sat down on a bench along the garden path.
“Uh, yeah…yeah I am. I’m studying pathology,” he replied, the subject matter comforting him enough that he took a seat beside you, beginning in the way he always did to explain what it was he loved about the practice. Talking interests was like Pope’s own form of drug, it could relax him immediately and he usually went off on tangents that were unintentional and, according to his friends, boring.
You didn’t look bored though, Pope thought. He could hear himself running over all the facts that he found so interesting and talking about someday working at Mayo Clinic or NIH or somewhere just as prestigious. He could hear himself but he couldn’t stop himself, his calm had transformed into nervous rambling and his tangents had woven through all the things he found most fascinating about the work. But you didn’t look annoyed or like you were planning an escape. You listened and you offered short commentary and asked questions, you looked like maybe you actually found him interesting.
“Sorry,” he finally apologized when he felt like he’d run of things to say. “I’m monopolizing the conversation.”
“It’s okay,” you angled more towards him, “I don’t mind. I like listening to you.”
Before Pope could reply to you, JJ’s voice cut out through the garden, calling for his best friend. He could almost imagine JJ hanging out the back door, hands on either side of the frame, leaning almost dangerously into the evening and shouting that they were heading to Hawk’s Nest to finish the party. Pope thought that, if JJ had shown up thirty minutes ago, he would’ve been thrilled to leave but now he was sitting here talking to you and he wished he could push JJ back inside and lock the French doors.
“Sounds like your friends are ready to go,” you mused, smiling at him.
Pope nodded, somewhat distracted. All he could think was that if he left now would the spell be broken? Would you see him the next time around the island and pretend you didn’t know him? Would you laugh with your friends about the pogue who was practically falling in love with you just sitting there drinking white wine at a graduation party?
“Maybe we could…uh,” Pope hesitated, standing up, unsure what he really wanted to say or could, “maybe we could hang out sometime?” He almost wanted to cringe at his own question. It sounded so awkward.
“Give me your phone,” you held your hand out, setting down the wine bottle and taking his phone so you could put your number in and text yourself. “There.” You concluded.
“Sorry,” he apologized as JJ called his name again, “I wish we could just…keep talking.”
“I’ll see you soon Pope.” You promised, leaning forward to kiss his cheek in a moment of boldness, or maybe you were just tipsy enough to be a little more outgoing than usual.
“See you soon.” He felt like he was floating on a cloud as he backed away from you, clumsily tripping over a large flower pot on the path and righting himself, before turning and leaving. You couldn’t help the wide smile on your face as you watched him, entirely mesmerized by Pope and eager already for the next time that the two of you would see each other.
Request:Okay this might be a stupid request but I dreamed about this and I would love an imagine or something about it. So JJ is working at a restaurant and reader (his gf) is having dinner there with her little sister and JJ is just really excited that he can serve you and he gives your sister like coloring stuff so she can color and JJ tells all his colleagues that your his girlfriend and just pure fluff idk
A/N:So this originally started as part of another request and then just became it’s own fic. Sorry it took so long to actually post!
Birthday dinners in your family were always a major deal. While your mom and dad usually chose the Wreck or the 24hr diner over near the pawn shop for their respective birthdays but your sister always went all in. She’d spend weeks before her birthday talking about where she wanted to go but always ended up choosing the same place, The Island Club.
“I’m gonna get lobster,” she insisted on the car ride over. Your parents were on the mainland for a funeral but you’d promised to take her without them, almost grateful that you wouldn’t have to sit through your dad talking about the value difference of everything on the menu or your mom read each price out loud as if she was somehow shocked that a restaurant for kooks cost so much money.
“Lobster?” You asked, pulling into a parking space between a tesla and a benz. You thought of JJ immediately, joking that at least you knew your car wouldn’t be stolen. “Do you like lobster?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, the taffeta sleeves of her dress brushing her cheeks. In your opinion, though you’d appropriately ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed when she came out of her room in her birthday outfit, the dress looked like cotton candy on her gangly eight-year-old self. She had a pink tiara to match, feathery and covered in glitter, proclaiming that today was her birthday. “That’s the point of trying things.”
“Touché,“ you replied, pushing the door of the Island Club open so she could pass before you. A couple of expensively dressed, middle-aged, kooks looked your way as you were led to your table. Your sister looking like an 80’s pageant queen and you, in the satin, strappy, light blue dress you’d worn to prom. It was the nicest thing you owned and she had insisted that it was the only dress that fit her idea of ‘dressed up’.
“JJ told me he’s working tonight.” Your sister mentioned, looking up at the host as they seated you at a table near the wall of sliding glass doors, “do you know JJ?”
“…Maybank?” The guy asked, handing over two menus.
“Yeah,” she smiled, “he’s my best friend.”
You almost wanted to laugh when she said it. When JJ had asked you out two summers earlier, your sister had been far from thrilled. While your mom was just happy that you had a boyfriend, asking to meet him the first time you ever even mentioned his name, all your sister could think was that you dating meant someone else was going to occupy your time. Before JJ you’d been something of a second mother to your little sister, stepping in while your parents worked. Now that you were dating and he was around the house all the time, he’d practically adopted the title of honorary older brother to your sister. She was completely convinced that he was the best person she ever met.
Your sister had told JJ weeks before that she was going to the Island Club for her birthday and had asked if he would be there that night, hopeful that she could see him if he couldn’t actually come to dinner.
“Oh man,” JJ’s voice came from behind your sister, his hands landing on the back of the chair as he leaned over her, “I better hide all the ice cream.”
“JJ!” She twisted in her seat to see him, smile so wide it practically reached her ears as she looked up at him. “Are you coming over tonight to have cake with us?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.” He replied. A glance back toward the double doors of the kitchen were enough to tell JJ that socialising on the clock was not going to fly with his boss. He sheepishly backed up from the table, sending your sister an apologetic smile, “I’ll be back out to see you, okay? I gotta get back to work.”
The minute JJ was back through the double doors he was apologizing, grabbing the bus bin off the cart, and announcing to everyone in the kitchen that his girlfriend’s sister was turning eight today. The calendar hanging on the wall near the kitchen office had her birthday circled, as if it was some sort of holiday for the whole staff to celebrate.
“Hey,” JJ leaned against the counter near the stove, plastering his nicest smile on for the woman who ran the kitchen. “Remember how you said I could work on my waitering skills the other day. You were like ‘JJ you should have just as much opportunity to move up as anyone else, you’re such a hard worker and a great kid-“
“I don’t think I said all that.” She remarked, looking at him pointedly, waiting for him to get where he was going with the conversation.
“Well anyway…you think I could wait a table tonight?”
“Let me guess,” her face remained blank as she stared at him, “you wanna wait your girlfriend’s table so you can impress her and the little sister by doing something that isn’t cleaning up dirty dishes?”
JJ nodded, trying to offer whatever compromise he could think of, “look, whoever’s table it’s supposed to be, they can keep the tip.”
“You got a girlfriend that tips?”
“Whats that suppose to mean?”
“I work with you JJ, I know what a cheapskate you are.” She replied, almost cracking a smile when he scoffed.
“I’m not a cheapskate I’m fucking broke all the time.”
“And this girlfriend of yours is rolling in it?”
JJ groaned, annoyed that the conversation was going so off course, “can I wait the table or not?”
“Fine.” She finally agreed, quick to tack on rules, “But only one free dessert for the kid’s birthday…I don’t want you clearing out the fridge over some little kid.”
“Okay,” JJ was grinning was ear to ear, already on his way to the small office area where aprons hung to grab a new, clean one for himself. The prospect of waiting your table wasn’t just exciting because he would get to actually see you all night but because he couldn’t help feeling more than a little impressed with himself and hoped you did too. Just a busboy was fine, he made a decent pay check, but he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life busing tables. He didn’t even want to spend the rest of the summer cleaning up after kooks. Serving them might be worse but if it meant that he could impress you, show off a little in the process, that was well worth it.
The host brought drinks to the table, a Shirley Temple for your sister and a water for you, and then JJ was in the dining room, walking straight for your table.
“Are you waiting on us?” You asked, your sister smiling eagerly as she clutched the menu in her hands, she didn’t even need to look but she had anyway, trying to be as fancy as possible.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “they’re letting me wait this table. I’m in training.”
“Glad to be your Guinea pig then.”
“JJ,” your sister cut you off, “I’m gonna get lobster.”
“Whoa, pulling out all the stops for your birthday huh?” JJ asked, checking the menu for the actual order and scribbling it down on the his notepad.
“Only the best,” you replied, JJ laughing at the sarcastic undertone in your voice. He knew birthday dinner was on you this time and, while you had been saving up as much as you could, lobster at the island club wasn’t cheap.
“And for you?” JJ asked, turning toward you and trying to act professional as another waiter passed by the table.
“The salmon and the house salad,” you replied, “Kie and I are trying to do like…a no fried food diet or whatever,” you explained, almost laughing when JJ made a face and rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with your dumb “you don’t need a diet” crap JJ, we’re trying to be healthy!”
“French fries are potatoes. Potatoes are healthy.” He argued, taking the menus from you when you held them out.
“Next you’ll tell me beer is healthy cause it’s just wheat and water.”
“I mean-“ he shrugged and you laughed.
“Go get our food.”
“I‘ll be right back.” He huffed, leaning over to whisper to your sister as he passed her. She laughed and he looked back at you conspiratorially, just so you would know for sure that they were gossiping about you.
JJ wasn’t gone long, reappearing in a few minutes with a thin colouring book and a pack of crayons that the club usually provided for kids dining in. The book had line drawings of different animals that were native to the OBX and your sister flipped first to the page of dolphins, “I’m gonna do one for Kiara, she’s coming over tomorrow.”
“What about me?” JJ asked, lingering at the table when he knew that technically he still needed to be busing others.
“I already drew you a picture, it’s at home.” She explained, full concentration on the picture in front of her needing to be colored in.
“Wow,” JJ drew the word out, as if truly impressed, “what is it?”
“You and me surfing!” She replied, finally looking up at him. “Cause we’re gonna go surf on the weekend…right?” Your boyfriend had agreed to teach your sister how to surf as a birthday present, promising your parents that he wouldn’t let her drown or get eaten by a shark.
“Yeah, we’re totally gonna go surf on the weekend.” As JJ spoke, Andrew passed him, nudging him and pointing out a few tables that had finished and needed to be cleaned off. JJ gave a small sigh, “I’ll be back with your birthday food, I gotta go clear off some tables.”
Request: yes. Not sure where it is cause I lost it but the general request was the song Lover by Taylor Swift with JJ Maybank.
A/N: I didn’t want it to be like a word-for-word interpretation of the song more so the feeling of the song so that’s what I tried to do. Hopefully it worked.
“Let’s get our own place,” JJ whispered, his shoulder digging gently into your back as you leaned toward him, as if you couldn’t hear what he said.
You could’ve just as easily pretended that you were still sleeping, undisturbed by the shrill ringing of your cousin’s alarm from the other room or the soft patter of footsteps as your dad moved around the kitchen. But you’d been up for the last half hour, your sleep interrupted by your niece crying, the sound not even slightly muted by the door that concealed her room.
“How?” You whispered back. Two sixteen year olds with limited income weren’t exactly promising homeowners.
“I don’t know,” he tilted his head to the side, letting it rest against the back of yours as he pulled the blanket further up on his side and feigned sleep.
You and JJ were in kindergarten when you met, first day in and you were already best friends. In third grade there was a lull, he met John B and your parents house was foreclosed on, moving you a little further into the Cut. Your grandparents modest three bedroom was old, built way back during WWI, “it used to be a farm” is what your granddad always said, as if it still was.
By fourth grade, when you and JJ started hanging out again, your aunt had moved in too. Her and her two kids, your parents and your three siblings. JJ would ride his bike down to your house and play with you and your family until it was too dark out to ride home and then your dad was throwing a sheet over the couch and offering him the last surface in the house to sleep on. The house, with its two bathrooms and three bedrooms, was almost always crowded. JJ was the only friend you let through the threshold, at eleven you already knew that most kids had bedrooms and their own clothes. Even JJ had his own room, his own bed.
By sixteen, if he wasn’t sleeping on the sofa in John B’s house then he was at yours, sharing a mattress with you on the living room floor because your sister had moved back home and one of her kids always took the couch.
“We could have our own room,” JJ proposed, still a whisper in the dark room as he thought more about the imagined place. Just above his head, at the top of your mattress, the branches of the family Christmas tree reached out, threatening to drop pine needles if you shifted the wrong way. At twelve, JJ had succeeded in taking the tree all the way down to the ground when a clap of thunder had woken him up two days before Christmas.
“Just the one?” you almost laughed.
“Why do we need two rooms?” He seemed genuinely unsure why you wouldn’t want to share a room.
For as long as you two had been friends, privacy hadn’t really been a thing that existed between you. And while neither of you had ever actually ‘made the first move’ it was generally accepted that you were together. Mostly because you were rarely apart.
“So we can be those bourgeoise kooks with ‘home offices’.” You joked, shifting around on your mattress to face him. “Or guest rooms that we decorate in white and blue nautical crap.”
“Two bedrooms then.”
You squinted in the dark, whether because you were trying to see him better or somehow see through him, you weren’t entirely sure. There wasn’t much to see in the dark, just the general shadow of JJ’s face close to yours, but you knew what he looked like enough that if you never saw him again you could’ve still sketched a fairly accurate picture.
“What if you get bored living with me everyday? I’m not as adventurous as John B,” you posed, “you could move into the Chateau.”
The question was a fair one, JJ had been spending a lot of time at the Chateau lately and you couldn’t help feeling a little jealous. Maybe it was stupid, to be bothered by something so trivial as where someone decided to lay their head at night but you couldn’t help it. JJ was supposed to stay at your house, in your cramped living room on a mattress that was lumpy and tired from being dragged back and forth every morning. He was supposed to sleep next to you and stay up too late and make you laugh at stupid jokes.
“Why would I wanna do that?” He asked, propping himself up on his elbow as if it would help him see you better.
“I don’t know,” you can’t shrug laying down but your voice carries the same uncertainty, a sort of embarrassment you can’t shake. “Would we live on the Cut?”
“Anywhere we wanted,” he replied. “We could live right on the beach, like those houses on stilts. We could surf everyday and lay out in the sun.”
“Sounds amazing.”
It was all just a sleep-deprived dream that the two of you had. You knew that real life things would creep back in once the day started and dreams of living on the beach and surfing all day weren’t dreams that you or JJ could afford to have. Still, it was a nice thought, one where you could live in a haze of happiness and sun and JJ.
“I wanna spend the rest of my life with you,” JJ admitted, shifting closer to you again and wrapping his arms around you. His breath fanned out over your shoulder and you felt him leave a kiss to the skin on your arm, where your shirt sleeve rode up. “Sitting on the beach, smoking weed, watching the sunset or whatever you and Kie like to do when you get up at the ass-crack of dawn.”
“That’s the sunrise you moron,” you laughed quietly, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.
“Whatever, we’ll watch it together.” He replied. “And drive around listening to all that old shit your dad likes and we’ll have a big porch with those giant couches and we’ll sleep until noon every day.”
“How are we watching the sunrise if we sleep till noon?” You asked, leaving a kiss against the base of his neck. He was warm and you were finally starting to fall asleep.
“We’ll wake up and then go back to sleep.” He said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. You could hear the soft slur in his voice as he spoke and felt his lips press against your temple.
You closed your eyes in the dark. “I think you might need that sleep now,” you replied.
“Yeah,” he was drowsy and clingy, a side of him you saw often and never tired of experiencing, “we’ll make plans in the morning, for our house.”
“Okay.”
“And don’t forget…a Christmas tree all year long.”
“Okay,” you repeated. “I promise not to forget. Go to sleep.”
He hummed and you thought for a minute he might actually take your advice and let himself doze off but then he pressed another kiss to your forehead and you could hear him repeating, “don’t forget” but the end of the sentence trailed off before he could finish it.
“What?” You whispered, curious if it was anything actually important or simply another feature of your future home.
JJ tilted his head back, half-lidded eyes searching for yours in the dark, “I said I love you.” He replied then settled back in.
“Hey. I heard you come in late last night. You go out with a friend after work?” My Grams immediately badgers me as I stumble down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“No. Just biked around for a while,” Technically true.
“Sounds fun,” I can tell she’s judging, but in silence. “Do you have work today?”
“No.”
“Well, you’ve been working almost every day since you got here. So maybe today’s a good day to explore the town. Meet some kids your age.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I turn to go upstairs.
“No.” She has a very stern voice that makes me turn around. “No hanging out in the house today. You’re going to go out and meet people. You need to be a normal teenager for just a day.”
“But…”
“No buts. I’ll give you ten minutes to get ready, then you must leave. I expect you to be gone until the sun goes.”
“Grams…”
“What?” She’s getting testy.
“Thanks.” She just smiles.
“You’ve got nine minutes now.”
At first, I started to breathe randomly. I thought I’d just end up where I’d end up. But then I found myself somewhere I recognized. Somewhere by the water. Somewhere by a dock that a certain person has a boat.
I find myself staring at the dock. Part of me knows that I should just go in the opposite direction and move on. Another part of me wants to rush up to the boat and hope to god he’s there and beat him to a bloody pulp. But in the end, I find myself just standing there. Not too close. Not too far. Just close enough to see as that same boy walks out of the boat, but not close enough that he can see me.
I watch as this boy walks around without a shirt. He’s on his phone. He’s smiling. His hair is a little messy. Something about him draws me in. But then, just as I find myself getting hard once again, a girl with fake blonde hair walks out of the boat and wraps her arms around him. He turns around and they kiss. For some reason, even though I hate this boy, something deep down inside me breaks. I quickly get on my bike, but just before I go off, I see that girl go down to her knees. I stop, and for some reason, am drawn back in. I know it’s wrong. I do. But I can’t stop staring at them. The boy just holds her head and smiles. I can see him bite his lower lip.
“Shit,” I shout as the boy suddenly looks over and makes eye contact with me.
But he doesn’t do anything. Just as I’m ready to make a run for it, he stares back at me, smiling. He looks at me directly in the eyes as his mouth opens. I find myself staring, direct eye contact, for minutes. When the girl comes up to her feet, that’s when the boy finally looks away. It’s like I suddenly get out of a weird trance. I find myself energized and weirdly hot.
I jump on my bike and speed away before I can see any more.
For a while, I bike around without any direction. All that’s on my mind is that boy. His slicked-back hair. That smirk. His body. Even those stupid preppy rich kid clothes. Something about him just makes me want to hurt him, but also makes me want to do other things. Other things that I am desperately trying to shove out of my head.
I am so focused on trying to forget that boy that I guess my body moved in a way it’s used to and biked to the club. When I come up I see Taylor in the back on a break.
“Hey, busboy.”
“Actually it’s bar back boy now.”
“Ooooh fancy.” I find it weird that I’m comfortable around her.
“Yeah, I’m moving up. You better watch your back.”
“I’m scared.” We laugh as I lock my bike up. “So what you doin’ here? You don’t work today.”
“How do you know that?”
“I may or may not have asked.”
“Awww, you actually like me. You really really like me.”
“A little less now.” She punches me in the arm. “Jk. Now really, what’s up?”
“Well…” So I begin. I begin telling her everything. Well, everything from the first time I met the boy at the bar, to my Grams being extra, and to the boy on his boat.
“First of all… I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!”
“Knew what?”
“That you were gay. I have excellent gaydar and saw it on you the second you biked up to me.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Second, who the fuck’s this boy? Sounds like you’ve got yourself a crush on a nasty Kook.”
“Kook? Crush?” I’m confused and offended for some reason.
“Kook’s are the upper crust people of the OBX. Pogue’s are what you’d call us, the working class folk.” “Folk?”
“Oh shut it. From the sounds of it, you were dealing with a Grade A Kook.”
“And he was just so…” I can’t help but lick my lips.
“Damn. You’ve got it bad.”
“Shut up. No, I don’t.”
“It’s real bad. Like stalking him online and jerking off to his Insta.”
“Taylor!”
“What? You didn’t deny it.”
“I don’t even know his name. So I couldn’t do any of that if I wanted to.”
“Well if you ever spot him again, take a pic. I know everyone.”
“Thanks.”
“So you’ve got to fill up the rest of your day, right?” I nod. “Well I’m off in 30 and there’s a party on this private beach I was gonna stop at. Wanna come?” “Do I have a choice?”
“No, not really.”
“Fine.”
“Great. Wait here. I’ll be back.”
ALMOST AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER…
“Please say we’re close.”
“It’s just beyond this line of trees loser.”
“What’s so good about these parties that we have to drive 30 minutes then hike through the woods for another 30?”
“Not much. Just kids our age, alcohol, music, and usually a good fight to watch.”
“Oh… fun.”
“Trust me. It is. You may even see your Kook.”
“My Kook? And I thought you said it’s a Pogue party.”
“He has no name, what else can I call him? And yeah, Kook’s know we throw the best parties and always crash.”
“I feel like I need to take notes.”
“Yeah. Welcome to Taylor Teaches.” She laughs as we walk onto the beach and see dozens of teens, a buttload of solo cups, and very little clothing that makes me feel like I’m ready for a Minnesota winter.
“So… do any of the guys here wear shirts?” That makes Taylor laugh. “But seriously. Not a single boy is wearing a shirt.”
“It’s too hot for shirts. And are you really complaining about seeing that?” She tilts her head for me to see these two really hot boys wearing just bathing suits and that each have these amazing heads of hair.
“Ok… I guess…” I can’t stop smiling… or starring at those boys.
“Hey!” Taylor’s voice goes up a few octaves as she walks up to this beautiful girl with dark wavy hair.
“What’s up? It’s been too long!” They hug before the girl notices me. “Is this your…?”
“No.” Taylor and I both laugh. “This is Parker. Parker, this is Kiara.”
“Hey. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“Parker’s new here. He’s been working at the Club with me.”
“Oh… fun.”
“No. Not really.” That makes her laugh.
“Well it’s good you’ve made friends with Taylor here, she’s a great teacher. You’ll be a pro of The Banks in no time.”
“I haven’t decided yet if I want to be though.”
“Trust me, you will.” Kiara smiles and we follow her towards the party. “Anything to drink?”
“Nah. I’m good.”
“Hey! JJ!” Kiara suddenly shouts and I turn to see her shouting at one of the boys I saw before, who’s now throwing a knife up in the air. “Don’t be an idiot! If you get blood over my knife you’re dead!”
“Shut up! I’m amazing at this!” His voice gives me a little shiver.
“That boy’s gonna drive me to an early grave.” She looks back at us. “Sorry. I’ll be back.” She runs off to him.
“That’s JJ. He’s a total shitshow of a kid, but he’s truly kind at heart.” Taylor then points to that other boy I saw before with JJ, he’s similar-looking but with long brown hair. “That’s John B. He and Kiara had a thing for a while, but they’re really just best friends along with JJ and Pope.” We look over to the boy running up to help JJ and Kiara now that JJ was cut his palm a little. “He’s the smart one of their good, very kind, but he’s the mother of the group.”
“Okayyy… and what about the thirty or so other people here.”
“Later. I’ll need a few drinks before getting into them.”
With a few drinks and thirty minutes, Taylor goes through each person at the party. I only really remember the first few and the weird ones. There’s Christian, the boy who sleeps with any girl he meets. Then Meredith, the girl who’s dad is a police officer and not so secretly hooking up with a married man. And of course, I remember Chris, the girl, who hooked up with Christian, then realized she was gay and is dating the sheriff’s closeted daughter.
Other than that, most of the others were pretty basic. But Kiara and her friends were the ones that really stuck out to me, specifically JJ. Something about JJ hits me. I can’t stop watching him. He does all this crazy stuff for attention, but I can see something damaged about him. Something in him is hurting, and he’ll do anything to forget about it. Or… I may just be reading into everything… I ended up having some drinks and am pretty lit at the moment.
It’s getting late. The sun is going down. The drinks have been flowing. The music hasn’t stopped. The people just keep on coming. And… I’m actually having fun. For the first time in months, my mind has turned off. I’m just living in the moment and enjoying it. I’ve been sitting with Taylor, Kiara, JJ, John B, and Pope. They’ve been telling me these crazy stories about their adventures around the OBX. Some involve treasure. Others involve sharks, fireworks, drinking too much, and even one that involved multiple squirrels and a jar of peanut butter. That one confused me… and scared me a little.
“Where’s Sarah?” Taylor pops to her feet out of nowhere.
“Yeah. I thought she was coming!” Kiara jumps up with Taylor and they both begin laughing.
“She said she was having some family problems, as always.”
“Bummer.” They both say together before plopping back down into the sand.
“Sarah… your girlfriend? Right?”
“Right.” John B’s smile is cute.
“You’ve got a cute smile.” It spits out of my mouth.
“Thanks.” He smiles yet again.
I see Kiara whisper into Taylor’s ear.
“What?” I look to them, at this point losing any fucks.
“Nothing.” Kiara is smiling.
“What? I won’t be mad.” Everyone just laughs.
“I just said that I thought you’re nice. And a bit drunk.”
“Awwww…. I really am drunk.” Everyone just starts laughing. “Oh shit.” I quickly notice three boys walking onto the beach, one of which is the boy.
“What?” Taylor looks at me, worried. “You good?”
“It’s him.”
“Who?”
“Him.” “Wait. What? Where?” She starts looking around.
“The one with the hair.”
“Well, that’s quite descriptive.”
“Oh shit. Rafe and the rest of the boy band are here.” JJ says, him and the others all looking over to the boys walking in.
“Oh shit.” Taylor looks to me. “Oh shit!”
“You good?” Kiara looks at her.
“Um… yeah. Yeah.” Taylor gets close to me. “The boy you’re talking about. Is it the one with the brown hair?”
“Oh yeah…” My mind is starting to think of some very dirty things and I can’t control them.
“No. No. No. Not allowed.”
“What?” I look at her, getting quickly confused, the alcohol not helping with that.
“That’s Rafe Cameron. Aka the psycho of The Banks. Aka Sarah’s brother. Aka the boy who killed someone and who’s rich daddy got him off. Aka…”
“Hey! Wake up! You’ve gotta be at work in 20!” Her shouts annoy me as they do every morning.
“I’m awake!” I shout back, already dressed for work and sitting in my bed, staring at the small crack on the wall.
After a minute I finally force myself to my feet and walk downstairs. I quickly try to pass the kitchen and out the side door, but Grams sees me and gives me a look.
“Love you.” I walk over and hug her as she chops her herbs.
“Love you too. Have a good day at work.”
I walk out and immediately hop onto my bike. As I do the same ride I’ve been doing every day for the past two weeks, I continue watching the people of this town. There are those people who are running around like mad dogs, just trying to stay afloat. Then the people walking around like they know something no one else does. Then my favorite people of the OBX, those who own it and know it. They intrigue me more than the rest. They put their noses up at the rest of us, yet if you look close enough you realize that their lives are just as fucked up as ours.
“Hey. New kid!” The shout distracts me as I bike up to the country club and I fall off my bike. “Damn!”
“Fuck!” I shove the bike off my legs, noticing the scraps and blood beginning to drip.
“Dude, you okay?” The same girl that shouted my name before runs up to me, offering a hand.
“I’m fine.” I get up and notice her, she’s my age, shorter than me, and wearing an apron.
“You sure? You’re bleeding.”
“Yeah. I’ve had worse.” I pick my bike up and start walking it to the bike rack with her.
“Sure. Okay. I’m Taylor. I work with the pastry chef.”
“Parker. Busboy.” I lock my bike in. “Why were you yelling for me?”
“Oh. Yeah. You’re needed to help at the bar today.”
“Okay.”
“It’s a busy weekend. You’ll probably be there till Monday.”
“Okay.” We walk in together.
“Is that the only word you know?” She steps in front of me, smiling a weird amount.
“No.”
“Okay.” I laugh at that and she smiles.
“Sorry. I’m just not a morning person. Or a person person.”
“Well, that’s fine. I’m sure I’ll be your type of person soon enough.”
“Really? You think so?”
“I know so.” She smiles and turns down another hall. “See you later Busboy.”
“How was work?” Grams is hovering by the backdoor when I arrive. “Make any friends today?”
“Nope.” I go over to the fridge and grab a water bottle before I notice she’s dressed up. “What’s going on?”
“My friend’s throwing a little game night. I’ll be gone pretty late. There’s money in that jar for pizza or whatever.” The Winnie the Pooh cookie jar just stares at me.
“Sure. Have fun.”
“You too.” She says as I walk upstairs.
I didn’t sleep a minute last night. Well, I actually did, but maybe forty minutes tops. I had fallen asleep until I had the worst dream. I dream that brought me back to one of the worst moments in my life. It just kept repeating. The scream. The grab. The Fire. The beeping. Over and over. Over and over. Over and over.
Then I snapped out of it. Sat straight up in my bed, sweating. The sad thing is… I wish I could say it was the first time or even the tenth. And as I did the other times, I sat and played sudoku on my phone. I played it over and over until the sun rose. Once the sun was up I took a quick shower and left the house on my bike.
I’ve been biking for nearly two hours and am pretty sure I’m lost. I’m somewhere next to the water. There are a few boats tied up, but not much else around. It’s quite beautiful though. I’ve never taken a real moment to notice how nice the water looks. And how perfect the sun shines on it. And for just a second my mind goes blank. The sound of the wave goes through my head.
“Hey. What the fuck are you doing on this dock?” I nearly fall on my ass when I hear the voice and turn to see someone on a nearby boat.
“What?” I just starting to snap out of my daze.
“Private. Property.” I can’t really see the guy with the light in my eye, but I take the note and start walking back.
I got to the club early for my shift so they let me get some extra hours. The bar has been crowded all afternoon. I’ve realized the bar area is filled with four different types of people since I first started. The first are the men who sit at the counter and drink for hours. They’re harmless, but really like to talk. The second type are the group of men that come after they’ve played golf and now want to discuss business. They’re usually quite rude, but they tip a darn good amount. The third type are the men that bring women far younger than them who are clearly not their wives. They are the type that prefers very little attention to them, but really want to impress the women they’re with. The fourth and final type of people that come to this bar is the group of teenage boys who think they are entitled to drinks because their daddy’s pay far too much to get them in. They are the type that truly drives me insane. They try over and over to get what they want, then threaten to get my boss or their parents.
Speaking of which… just about five minutes ago this group of four teenage boys walked in and took a table. They’ve been chatting, laughing, and looking over at the bar.
And now one of the boys, one with slicked-back brown hair and wearing a bright-colored shit with cache shorts. He’s smirking and looking way too confident.
“Hey.” He takes a seat on a stool.
“Hey. What would you like?”
“Just four rum and cokes.”
“Four cokes?”
“Umm… no. Rum and cokes.”
“I.D.?”
“Well I left it in my office, but ask anyone, I’m a regular here.”
“Well… “ He smiles, thinking he’s about to get what he wants. “No I.D., no drinks.” I walk over to another person and top off their drink.
I start cleaning up and the boy is still sitting there, watching me. He seems intent on me. Watching. Smiling. Then looking back at his friends and laughing every once and a while. He waits a few minutes before he speaks again.
“It’s you!” He snaps like he knows something.
“What?”
“You’re the kid that was on our docks this morning.” Wait… that was him? “You were standing there like some kind of idiot.”
“Anything else you need sir?” I can feel my blood starting to heat up.
“I should’ve realized you we’re some poor Pogue. You probably live in some shithole with your alcoholic mother and father who beats you around for the fun of it.”
It hits me. Hits me hard. I can feel my blood going from zero to a hundred. My fists tighten, nails digging into my palms. I being picturing the things I could do to him. I could grab a glass and shove it in his face. I could grab him by his hair and shove his head into the counter. But my favorite thought right now is grabbing him by his hair and dragging him across the bar and throwing him into the hundreds of bottles before stomping my foot into his ribs and shattering a large bottle of tequila in his face.
But I don’t do any of that. I stare him straight in the eyes. I put all my anger into my eyes and let him feel it. At first, he stares back, but after thirty incredibly long seconds, he blinks. He puts on this fake laughter and steps off his stool.
“Come on guys, let’s go. It’s boring here.” They all walk out together.
I quickly walk to the main bartender.
“I’m taking my break. Be back.” I speed out of the bar.
I make my way down the halls of the club. Through the back exit and where most of the workers hang. I step through the few workers hanging out and around the corner. I immediately face the wall and punch it. I regret it the second I swing my arm, but at that point, there’s no going back. I immediately want to scream, but hold it in.
“Parker?” I jump out of my skin as Taylor turns the corner. “Oh shit!” She runs up to me as she sees the blood dripping down my fist.
“I…I…” I begin finding it hard to breathe. “It’s… it’s… al…”
“It’s okay. Shhhh.” She takes the apron off and wraps it around my hand.
“But… I can’t… I can’t breathe!” My chest is tightening and everything begins to get a bit hazy.
“Parker,” Taylor grabs my face and looks me in the eyes. “Focus on my eyes.”
“But…”
“Focus on them,” She’s stern. “What color are they?”
“Blue.”
“What’s my name?”
“Taylor.” Things begin to loosen.
“Where are we?”
“Hell.” That makes Taylor laugh, then I do as well.
“Not technically wrong.”
“Thanks.” I start to feel normal, if I was ever normal to begin with.
“No problem.” She helps me to my feet.
“It’s just not my day. This kid came in…”
“You don’t need to tell me. I understand.” I take a look at my hand. “I’ll go and get some bandages.” She turns to walk away.
“Taylor. Thank you. Really.”
“What else are friends that you’ve known for 24 hours for?”
“I don’t know, depends if they happen to bring me back a cookie.”
“Oh, really?” We both laugh as she walks away.
I turn around and lean against the wall. I take a deep breath in and run my hands through my hair. Then I look forward and that kid from the bar is standing in the parking lot. He notices me and smiles. Then he waves before hopping onto his motorbike. He looks to me once more, that grin digging into my skull. I flip him off and that only seems to make him smile more. He rides off and before I know it I find myself getting hard as I watch him ride off.
All the fics I read and loved in the month of April!
I feel like it’s mostly JJ Maybank this month…I feel like every time April hits I start looking forward to summer and that just automatically puts me in an OBX kinda mood.
