Catching Sunshine | JJ Maybank

6 // Prayers

"Is this a game of tag?"

"I don't know."

My ears perked at the sound of my friends' voices and I looked up from the pages of the history textbook I had been lazily perusing over for the last twenty minutes, trying to muster up the motivation to finish Mr. Sunn's homework. Through the stacks of shelves, I spotted Pope leading Kie and JJ hastily into the library. His eyes searched for a moment before finding mine and weaving his way over to my table.

JJ hissed again as they grew closer, "Am I going to have to beat you with your protractor? What's going on?"

Our librarian shushed him harshly, to which he waved her off in half-hearted apology. Kie followed with, "Seriously Pope, you're driving me insane."

Pope barely even afforded me a hello before sweeping most of my school things to the side so he could place a nondescript envelope down on the table. I muttered under my breath as I straightened my stack of things in irritation, "Oh hello Meggers, how are you? Just fine Pope, thanks for asking..."

JJ sniggered quietly. But Pope wasted no time in launching into an explanation, "Okay so that guy was from the scholarship committee-"

"What guy?" I inquired, sitting up a little straighter.

"Some suit-and-tie pulled him out of algebra," JJ explained quickly.

Pope pushed the letter towards him. "Take a look at this. Read it."

JJ snatched the letter off the table and unfolded the paper, only to stare at it blankly for a few seconds. "Out loud," Kie requested.

"I can't read cursive," he confessed at a whisper. Kie pursed her lips in disbelief.

"Oh for shit's sake," I groaned, taking the letter from him before scanning over the words jotted down in elegant, swooping writing. "Dear Mr. Heyward, I am reaching out because I have material evidence that can exonerate John B. Routledge. It is of vital importance that you come and meet with me in person at my office at 27 King Street, Charleston at 8 PM sharp tonight. Please come alone...regards, C. Limbrey."

Kie's face scrunched at that last line and JJ repeated, "Charleston?"

"I know, it's like an eight hour drive plus the ferry," Pope said. "How will we get there tonight?"

"We'd have to leave right now."

"I have a free period?"

"Material evidence..." JJ mused. "What does that even mean, material evidence?"

"It means he can clear John B," Kie replied.

"Oh shit, then we're going to Charleston."

"Woah, woah, time out," I cut in, making a T with my hands. Everyone paused to look at me. "We're just gonna drop everything to meet up with some rando who just happens to have evidence in a case that's been ongoing for months now? Not to mention, they want you to come alone. That's hella sketch."

"Of all the shady shit we've had to do this past year, but this is where you draw the line?" JJ said. My eyes narrowed; I still hadn't quite forgiven his cheekiness the other night.

"Yes," I grit out, attempting to remain civil, "I mean, we don't even know a C. Limbrey. This could all be some twisted joke."

While we talked, Pope had been typing something up in the Google search bar at the computer next to us and his sigh drew our attention. "What?" Kie asked, looking over his shoulder.

"I'm not sure but I think whoever this Limbrey person is..." he explained, eyes glued to the screen, "they might be related to the captain of the Royal Merchant."