𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃. ᵒᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵃⁿᵏˢ ²

07

07 . 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 .

  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 to explain just how Charlotte Collins felt at 11:30 a.m, Monday morning, as she sat on the blue picnic bench in the courtyard of Kildare High. There would never be enough time to explain her emotions, or her thoughts, or there wouldn't be enough ways to describe just how much a few messages impacted the rest of her life, or how much it was affecting the cacophony that was her heart in the moment everything occurred. In the moment where everything changed.

Her heart had fallen from her chest, slipped out from behind her ribcage and collided with the floor at the sight of what she'd read. It seeped into the concrete and fell somewhere below that. But not in a bad way— in the best way possible. And it was kind of an unfamiliar feeling, because for the past two months, her heart had only dropped out of fear, sadness, and dread. But in that moment, at 11:30 in the morning, it didn't palpitate for those reasons. It constricted and throbbed because John B was alive— not because he was dead, or because he was "lost at sea", or because he was in harm's danger.

It didn't matter where he was— even though he'd let out on the groupchat moments later that he was laying low in Nassau— because just the sure knowledge that he was alive, was enough. She couldn't believe that he was on the other side of that screen. She longed to see his face, to feel his skin beneath her fingers, to stare into his eyes and feel his hair, for real now. Before, she'd reminisced and yearned to see him again every day, but that was back when she thought he was dead— and dreaming for something you think is long gone is something different. Now she knew he was alive, and craving didn't seem so impossible anymore.

As she sat at the picnic table, she felt this feeling slide up from her feet and into her chest, and she could barely focus on it from all the shock coursing through her veins. But eventually it set in, as Kiara wrapped her arms around her shoulders— she felt almost whole again. When he'd gotten "lost at sea", he took a piece of her with him. And she thought he was dead for the longest time, so that little piece was thought to be gone forever and ever in the seabed. But it was somewhere in Nassau now, just waiting like they were.

Her cheeks were stained with tears when JJ brought her close, her head buried in his chest and his arms tightly wrapped around her shoulders as he laughed uncontrollably. She hadn't heard him laugh so refreshed in a while, or smile so widely and with such effortless ease. It made her happy, as did everything else in the day, to see him and Kiara and Pope genuinely happy for the first time since the middle of summer. When they all hugged one another, in the school courtyard, she felt her heart beating through her shirt with overpowering joy, her eyes foggy with tears of relief and elation, and her mind flooded with a million thoughts. Soon, the five of them would be hugging again, instead of just four, and she knew that for certain— no matter what it took.

Simply put, the four of them were emotional together, feeling every doubt and every little bit of sorrow from the last month drift away into thin air. They didn't have to stay up at night, crying because the silence felt so loud, they wouldn't have to distract themselves with other things when he came to mind, and they didn't have to laugh softly to lighten the heavy mood. The boys could wrestle on the couch under lantern light, Kiara and Charlie could play the ukulele under the stars, they could all dip their feet in the water on the docks while sipping on cold beers, and they could all stay up until daylight again. At least for a little bit. Soon.

They knew that it would all feel even more perfect when he was back— however he was going to get back. They were on their tippy-toes, on the edge, anticipating how they would clear his name and welcome him home. He was in Nassau, but he would be back soon. She knew that.