Together

90. I'm not okay

Don't doubt me, babe, you make me wanna change
Break my bed, don't make me wanna stay, I can't
Bite me, babe, you mane me love the pain
Break my bed, don't make me wanna stay, I can't
When say it like that oh, oh, oh, oh
Got me falling right back oh, oh, oh, oh
-Flume and Tove Lo

Kie doesn't even try to hold back the tears that come as she makes her way down the beaten dirt drive way. It's a little hard to make out her path, both being a little drunk and trying to see through the haze of her tears and growing darkness at the same time. She rubs her eyes and blinks harshly to get a good sense of where she's going. So many freaking cars. People need to bike more.

The night air is biting against her skin. She didn't bring a jacket, so the breeze just makes her shudder. She breathes deep, hoping the cold air in her lungs will ground her, make her feel like she's attached to the earth rather than floating above it.

The last ten minutes roll through her memory in agonizing detail. God. She shouldn't have even said anything.

It was just so hard to see Riley and his friends goading JJ on and thinking this was some amazing tale that they could laugh through instead of the absolute crisis it really was. Like it was just another JJ Maybank near death story that they could cheer about because he was sitting right in front of them.

Truth was she was sick of people treating him like nothing but a good time. Tired of people not valuing him for the person he was and thinking that he was only around for their enjoyment. Everybody used him like that.

Guys liked to see him be reckless in hopes he'd get injured. Girls, before they were dating, liked to use him to make daddy mad or to test the waters on the other side of the island before making their way back to their real lives and not giving him a second thought. They treated him like he was nothing.

He isn't worthless, his life fucking matters. She couldn't tolerate people treating him like it didn't. Like his life was expendable because he was Maybank Cut trash. He isn't.

He is everything.

He has joy and dreams and ambition. He is loving and loyal and fiercely protective. And yes, he could be reckless and impulsive, but she knew where that came from. How it almost always revolved around wanting other people to be happy. Other people to be protected and safe. He'd throw himself into the fire if it meant the people he loved wouldn't get burned.

How could people not see that? Why couldn't that be what they valued?

She finally gets to the Jeep, she thinks, and goes to pull out the keys, huffing out a breath as she forces in the key to the driver door to unlock it. She pulls it open, only to have it slammed shut immediately. It makes her jump, spinning around to see who's stopping her departure.

"No fucking way," JJ says decidedly, and a little out of breath from his dead sprint. "Give me the keys," he demands, arm boxing her in as he keeps his hand on the door frame, preventing her entry.

She squares her eyes at him. "Why?"

His brows raises in obviousness. "You're drunk, give me the keys, Kie."

"What, so you're allowed to do stupid stuff, but no one else is?" she challenges, internally cringing because she knows that's not fair.

JJ's not taking that bait anyway. One, it's not even comparable and two, there is no way he is going to let her kill herself to prove a point to him. Although, he'd really love to capitalize on the fact that she's giving way to her true feelings, but at the moment there are more pressing issues. "Give me the keys," he repeats, tone growing impatient.