BRIZO 2 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

13

"I guess that is an excuse."

Luckily for us, the water bill wasn't so strict. We had several letters when we got here, and I ran to my room as soon as I saw them. I had saved some money from my shifts at The Wreck. It was supposed to be for rent, but paying our bills seemed more urgent. I gave it to my father. He's an adult and he's back. This goes back to being his responsibility.

It was too late for our electricity, but not too late for the water bill.

You can't imagine how hard I cried while taking my first shower in months.

My hair smells so good... And it feels so soft... My curls have never looked better. I just missed my shower so much.

"Hey," Our father's voice brings me back to Earth. Still, I grab a lock of my hair, and twist it around my finger, taking it up to my nose to smell the wonderful aroma of our shampoo. "You know... You know where that diary is, right?"

My eyes find JB's immediately. I raise both of my eyebrows, questioning if he was going to answer him or not. My brother just shrugs, mostly because he doesn't seem to notice the pattern here.

"Well, we have a copy."

"But it's in the Twinkie." I add. Our Twinkie. My beautiful and lovely Twinkie. I miss her.

"Yeah, and it is probably in the impound lot with the police. Gotta figure that one out."

"Sounds like a problem for future us." I yawn, covering my mouth with the back of my hand.

We fall silent, and I close my eyes, sinking deeper in our couch. I cross my arms on my chest, and stretch out my leg as much as I can, trying not to hurt my ankle anymore.

My breath is deeping when my brother's voice wakes me up again, "Hey dad, remember the last time we were together?"

I open my eyes and I'm met with my brother's face staring into the dark horizon. Upward smile and eyes lost, he seems to be recalling everything he said the last time he saw our dad.

"We had that argument?"

"Yeah." Our dad's voice comes through. "Yeah, real knock-down-drag-out."

"I shouldn't have said that." John B mutters sadly. "You're not the worst father ever."

"We really didn't mean anything we said." I add, knowing well that I contributed to what had gone down that day.

"No shit, Sherlock." Our dad answers, and although it shouldn't, it makes me laugh.

"Love you, Pop." I say, slightly sitting up so I can catch a glimpse of my father's smiling face through the window.

He smiles deeply, and then JB says he loves him too, and our father chuckles. "I love you, kids."

I smile satisfied, and lay down again, closing my eyes ready to fall asleep after so many tiresome weeks.

"Enough of this sappy shit. Let's go to bed." JB says sniffling.

"So shut up already, Johnny."

"You're literally the human version of a headache." My brother claps back, closing his eyes with a satisfied smile.

"You literally look like something I drew with my left hand, dumbass."

"Alright, you two. Enough. Go to sleep." Our dad's laugh cuts us off before John B can come up with a reply.

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The next morning I'm awakened by a kick to my face from my brother's foot.

"Ouch!" I yell, sitting up straight holding the side of my face. "What the hell, John- Sarah?"

Blondie is here. That's if my eyes are not failing me.

I blink twice, rub them with the heels of my hands and when I open them again and see that she's still here, I squeal with joy.

"Hi, Bee." Sarah laughs with a wide grin. She hugs me, before sitting down next to my brother again.

Their hug is way longer, as expected. I try to pretend I can't hear what they're saying, although I very much can. Once they pull away, Sarah sits on the floor in front of us, saying she didn't want to turn her back on me, literally.

"They just dropped me off, I didn't even know if you'd be here."

"JJ's back?" I say, my heart skipping a beat.

"Yeah," Blondie smiles sweetly. "He is going home. You should go find him, he was really worried."

"Why? We told you guys we were fine." I frown.

"We literally couldn't hear anything on the phone."

"What?" John B shakes his head, "You couldn't hear anything?"

"No, just that we should come back to the OBX."

"So, you don't know then." I say, and then I slowly turn my head to my brother and point at Sarah, "She doesn't know."

"Know what?" She knits her eyebrows.

"Sarah, our dad's alive."

Sarah's face morphs into confusion, looking between John B and I, as if waiting for me to confirm he's delusional.

"He's telling the truth. He's right ther- Oh." I shut my mouth close when I turn around and see our couch empty.

What the hell? Did John B and I share a manic episode? He was real, right?

"Where is he?" I ask confused.

"He was just right there." John B sits up straight, clearly getting anxious, "Sarah, I swear to God, he was. He was here."

John B and I search all around our house for an hour. We check the neighbors, we check the nearest roads, and nothing. We can't even find his backpack.

I run a hand through my hair. I'm not sure if I imagined my father, but since the boat is still on our dock, the most plausible option is that for some reason he took off again. And that may be even worse.

Both John B and I are talking at the same time, spitting what we know are facts, standing next to our tree. Sarah looks as if she wants to slap both of us just to make us shut up. She's just as confused as we are, and she doesn't know what to say to-

"There he is!" I throw my hands in the air, when I notice our father walking around the house, coming our way. "Oh, big old fucker." I whisper to myself letting out a sigh of relief.

"Hell, I wouldn't believe them either." He laughs. "Hello, Sarah."

Blondie's jaw touches the floor. I must say, there haven't been many moments where I've seen her run out of words or things to say. And this was one of those moments. She looks between me and my brother, when she sees our smiles, her lower lip starts to tremble.

Silent tears stream down her face as she meets our dad, and wraps her arms around him in a big hug. Our dad welcomes her with open arms and a smile, "Come on, Sarah, or should I say Mrs. Routledge?"

"Oh, God. Don't call her that." I scrunch up my nose.

"Welcome to the family, Sarah."

"Where the hell did you go?" John B asks, and our father looks at him above his glasses with a warning look.

He ignores the question, instead lets go of Sarah, and motions for us to join in on the hug. Before we give in, John B and I share a look. Something's up. And we're not sure what it is.