Rose-Ann "Rosie" Mae Connolly is freshly emancipated and finally returning to her home in the OBX after 3 months away. 16-years-old and living alone, she's ready to have the summer of a lifetime with her friends-since-middle-school pogue crew. But w...
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For such a pleasant sleep, you'd think Rosie would have a pleasant wake-up.
Wrong.
Rosie was jolted awake by the force of an arm hitting her in the throat. Her eyes shot open in shock, and her body convulsed into a coughing fit. She instinctively threw off the arm that was cutting off her breathing. A sharp snore followed by a grunt sounded beside her.
Rosie turned her head to see JJ's face slumped against a pillow. They must have shifted at some point in the night as he was now on his stomach, and Rosie was on her back. JJ's mouth hung half open, and there was a puddle of drool on the sheets underneath.
"Ew," Rosie grumbled before pulling herself out of bed.
It was eerily quiet now in comparison to the howling wind and pelting rain beating against the shack just a few hours earlier. She padded out of the spare room and into the empty hallway. John B's door was still shut so Rosie assumed he was still sleeping. She made her way to the front room and onto the porch outside.
"Shit."
The yard was a complete disaster. Fallen branches and piles of debris littered the area. It was a miracle that John B's van and boat were still intact.
Rosie wandered through the yard and down towards the wooden dock. She cautiously put her weight on the creaky wood, making sure it was stable enough to walk on. She tiptoed along the length of the narrow dock. Rosie lowered herself down at the very end, letting her legs dangle over the edge. Her toes were inches away from the water below while her legs swung back and forth. She gazed at the calm water ahead, taking in the lingering smell of rain and the sound of chirping birds.
Rosie loved days after storms. She loved the irony of how such an ugly, chaotic thing could bring about singing birds, soft waves, and a beaming sun—as if nothing had ever happened.
She wasn't sure how long she sat there on the dock alone, but her meditative peace was cut short by the chatter of a boy a few yards back.
"Oh, man. That's not good," John B trudged outside with his hands behind his head. "That is not good."
Rosie craned her neck back to catch sight of a shirtless John B. A soft smile tugged at her chapped lips. He was yet to see her on the dock as he continued to assess the damage. Rosie turned back around to face the water.
"Agatha did some work, huh?" another voice chimed in.
Rosie could identify JJ's voice from miles away, but didn't bother turning around again. She was far too content watching her toes almost graze the surface of the water.
"Yeah, she did." John B replied.
The two boys began to clear out the fallen branches from the HMS Pogue.
"Mornin', Sunshine," John B called out to Rosie.
Rosie accepted that her moment of peace and quiet was over, and hauled herself up to her feet.
