Sour Patch Kids || Outer Banks

38. Kinky Bastard

Devyn awoke feeling heavy. Like the weight of her soul was crushing her and she couldn't breathe and she was sinking below the earth. She woke up with a gasp, trying to catch her breath, despite the small voice in the back of her head that told her it would be easier not to. She quickly but carefully untangled herself from JJ's iron-tight grip, examining his puffy eyes and bruised stomach, feeling sick all over again. 

Last night was a blur. She had stayed up with him for hours, holding him while he cried, listening to him talk, playing with his hair until he finally fell asleep in her shaking arms. JJ had apologized a thousand times — telling her how sorry he was for the things he said and what he did and how he acted and anything else he could think of that he had ever done wrong in his entire life.

Devyn wasn't angry. She wasn't sure if she ever truly was. She was scared —if that was even the right word— and somehow, that was worse. She felt as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, able to feel each individual planet and star and galaxy pushing her to her breaking point. There were so many things that had gone wrong in the past few weeks that it was utterly overwhelming, and her gut told her that things weren't going to get any easier for her and her friends.

The girl let out a heavy sigh as she padded quietly over to her corner of belongings, rummaging through her cardboard box to grab a long-forgotten carton of cigarettes from many months ago, picking up her yellow lighter as well, sitting on the ledge of John B's window quietly.

Leon jumped up next to her as she opened the window, rubbing his head against her legs, before curling into a ball in her lap. Devyn held a cigarette between her teeth, rubbing his back as she lit it with her other hand.

The sharp burn of nicotine in the back of her throat slightly cleared her muddled thoughts, the girl making sure to blow the smoke out of the window. She turned to look at the blonde who was sprawled across the entirety of John B's bed as she took another long pull, ignoring the unpleasant taste in her mouth and the heaviness of her lungs. She was able to see each forming bruise, painted across his skin like a mosaic of trauma that she couldn't tear her eyes away from, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Devyn couldn't quite figure out why exactly JJ decided to cope the way he did, but it wasn't like there was anything she could do about it now. She continued to smoke, flicking the ash out the window, hoping that with each pull, her worries would fade away— despite the fact that she knew they wouldn't. No matter how many cigarettes she smoked there would still be the looming threat of her brother and Barry and JJ's dad and her friends' safety. All she ever wanted in life was to protect her friends from all of the bad things, to help them prosper and grow and thrive and flourish. But lately, it seemed as though there was a dark cloud hanging over everyone that Devyn simply didn't have the strength to vanquish.