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xvii. The Boy In The Bubble
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The Wreck was empty again; Blair Cameron was sat on a chair with one leg propped up against the burgundy cushion, the other against the wood supporting the table, keeping it upright. She had a cigarette in her hand, leaning it against the inside of her knee. Kiara Carrera didn't feel like telling her not to smoke because her parents hated the secondhand smell, not after what had just happened.
She felt so tired, like she could sell her limbs for auction and sleep forever once the verdict was up. Who would want the perfect dolled-up body even though they were only going to sell a chunk of illegally-obtained gold?
Her mouth moulded into circles, exhaling perfect smoke rings, one after the other. Sarah coughed when she inhaled the cigarette-ash, though she was used to her sister smoking around her. Everything had been flipped upside down; Blair couldn't even tell what was right and wrong anymore. Should she have followed JJ? Should she have said something back? It didn't matter, he was very clear regarding his feelings towards her. He couldn't care less if she was dead. Whatever.
John B was sitting across from her around the same table, just a little further. He shot Blair a concerned look and sighed. "Look, he'll come around, all right?" he told them, but he might as well have been saying her name after every word. "It's . . . he's doing a JJ thing."
Blair shook her head. "He's not doing a JJ thing. He's hurt and he's lost. And we just left him," she clenched her jaw.
"You think he'll go home?" Kiara wondered, sat across from them. She was concerned too, obviously, but it was almost as though she was prepared for the outcome. Like he did it often.
"There's about a zero percent change that JJ goes home," Pope replied. He was leaning against the windowpane, between two slightly-choppy wood pillars, looking out.
John B sighed and glanced at Sarah who had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time. Maybe she was concerned for the blonde boy. Maybe she was concerned for her little sister. "You okay?" he asked. She nodded tiredly.
"Yeah," she said. "Are you?"
He looked down and smiled softly. He was so enamored with the girl it was almost painful to watch. "I mean, I'm in one piece, so . . ." he trailed off, glancing at Blair. "Hey, Bee," he called. All eyes were on her. That was undoubtedly the only kind of attention she hated. "He's gonna be okay, I promise. Don't worry, he'll come back for you."
With the way he said you, he knew what he was doing. Pope sighed and pushed himself off, joining the four. "Okay. It's too dangerous to pawn this thing off piecemeal. So our best bet is to go down there and get the rest of it," he paced. He was the playmaker; he couldn't disappoint. "Bring it all up at once. Put it in─in a safe or a vault or something. I─I don't know. Just until we can find someone who won't rip us off. I can figure it out tonight, get it done, and we can be out there tomorrow morning."
