𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 - kiara carrera¹

𝒙𝒙𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔, 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄, 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔

"YOU REALLY THINK IT'S OUT THERE? LIKE, NO BULLSHIT?"

Everyone turned to look at Tatum as she stepped up onto the grass of John B's lawn. She looked a mess. Burns on her scarred arms, smudged makeup, puffy eyes. But she smiled. And it was her smile. She jumped onto JJ's hammock without a word, snuggling up into his arm just like she always used to. There wasn't a frown on anybody's face anymore. Because she was there. Tatum was there. The real Tatum. Their protective, loving, crazy friend.

"My father did," said John B as casually as he could, careful not to make a big deal out of it and scare Tatum back into being nothing but a spirit. But he was so happy. Even if she was only like this for now, he was so happy. Everyone was.

"But do you?" Pope asked him again, trying not to look behind at Tatum incase she had already gone back to moping and sulking. He never wanted this moment to end. Everything was peaceful...right. In a way they hadn't been since the summer started.

"After hearing his voice on that tape...I think I do."

"Only one way to find out," said Pope, finally feeling hope about the whole thing.

Kiara looked at Tatum for the one millionth time that week. She was expecting another well-deserved cold shoulder. She was expecting another blank stare at god knows where. But this time Tatum looked at her. In the eye. For the first time in what felt like forever. Both their stomachs twisted. Both their hearts stopped. Slowly, Tatum smiled again. Her smile. Not Leroy's. In the mess of the day, she had found herself again. On the edge of suicide, she realised she wanted to live. For her friends. Her friends whom she would love unconditionally, whether or not it was reciprocated.

"Look, we're gonna find it, you know?" said Kie, unable to shake off the grin stretching to her ears. She looked at the girl. The girl she loved. The real Tatum Quinn. And it was like time froze just for the two of them. "Even JJ believes."

"Oh, my God, JJ, do you really believe?" asked John B in mock shock. Everyone giggled. They were all high. Except Tatum; she was back to joining them, but it would take a while to get that part of herself back. They knew that. She needed time. But she was slowly getting there, and everyone, resting on the hammocks, was grateful for that. Pope wasn't high, either, but he never was.

JJ, who as usual, was more stoned than any of his friends, blinked in surprise. He looked down at the girl in his arms with a smile. His best friend. His sister. He offered her a hit of his joint. She refused. She never refused. But she was happy in this moment, and that was all that mattered. "Totally," he said. Then, looked up. "Wait. Are we talking about the five mil?"

"Five hundred mil," Kie and Pope corrected simultaneously.

"Jinx."

JJ pulled Tatum closer to him. She winced at the feeling of his skin touching her recent burns, and they were all reminded of the terrible mess she found herself in. They didn't question it. They trusted her. But that didn't mean they were worried for her mental state. "I'm gonna dream about shipwrecks," he said, adjusting his arm so he wasn't hurting hers. It was so much easier hugging her without that fat coat she always wore. She had finally shedded her skin now, and the real her was a mess; a dangerous, chaotic, beautiful mess. And the pouges loved her for it. They appreciated her. But that didn't change the fact they did it too late. "Goodnight, Bird!"

"Goodnight, Birdshit!"

"Bird?" asked Tatum, speaking up to them for the first time in days. Everyone was mesmerised at the sound of her voice. They never knew they could miss something so much. "What the fuck have I missed?"

"A lot," said Kiara, sitting up and staring at the tired girl in admiration. She blocked out her worry - she could worry about her another day. Today, she was just happy to have her back. The girl she was so helplessly in love with.

A/n: I just got no.1 in #outerbanks so I posted a soft, happy chapter for once.