wasteland | outer banks (obx)

PART II | LEAP OF FAITH

dakota had only recently been educated on the whereabouts of the boneyard and its purpose, but when she arrived with kiara, john b, jj, and pope, it felt like something was calling out to her from the desolate shoreline.

dakota was infatuated with abandoned places, and the boneyard was the epicenter of everything barren and dismal. in california, her father would carry her around deserted houses and complexes, careful not to step on exposed glass or contaminated needles. peculiarly enough, it was her dreamscape.

jj and pope had their hands clutching a keg each, and john b and kiara were toting red solo cups packages. dakota was left with nothing to assist them, which made her uncomfortable—her origin was aiding people in their time of need, perhaps most especially when they didn't acknowledge that they needed it. nevertheless, she persevered on, jj and kiara bantering, and pope raving about a new space comic book series he had discovered to john b.

dakota, determined to assimilate, asked, "is this where you always come for keggers?"

"there's nowhere else to go," john b replied, scoping out a perfect spot to settle in amongst the deadwood splayed out in the sand like blood spatter.

"don't you get caught?" dakota questioned indignantly, an eyebrow arched. john b nodded at a space up ahead to kiara, and she pointed to it to signal jj and pope, the veins in their arms protruding from the weight of the kegs in their hands.

"the cops on the beat in this town are useless," jj huffed, setting the keg down with a slosh and a thud. "underage drinking ain't on their radar."

"besides, we don't bother them, they don't bother us," pope concurred, following suit in jj's actions.

john b went to labor on tapping the keg, and kiara pulled dakota aside as she unwrapped the solo cups from their flimsy plastic packaging.

"you can leave at any time; don't feel obligated to stay," kiara reassured dakota, her curls flowing in the breeze from the ocean.

"why would i?" dakota queried, her intonation peaking.

"these parties can get big, and i wasn't—i didn't know if you would feel anxious being around new people," kiara shifted on her feet.

"do you want me to go?" dakota responded, narrowing her chestnut eyes.

"not at all," kiara shook her head, abruptly recognizing how she may have been perceived.

"then hand me a damn cup and let's get this thing started," dakota smirked, and kiara laughed, loudly, but electrifyingly—from that moment, dakota knew that this night would alter something inside of her.

for the ensuing half an hour, the crew devoted their time to filling solo cups with beer as the crowd began to trickle in like water droplets out of faucet.

john b's repeated line was, "hey, do you want a beer?" to the myriad of social groups approaching, congregating around the keg and john b like hyenas around a carcass. by midnight, dakota had downed four beers, and was seated alongside jj, who was laughing at pope's attempts to make conversation with a jet black-haired girl.

suddenly, he twisted himself around toward dakota, the bark of the deadwood clawing through their shorts, and admitted, "y'know, kody, i've never seen kie warm up to somebody this quickly."

dakota, her head orbiting in outer space from the buzz of the booze, replied, "what do you mean?"

"she's a nice girl, don't get me wrong – but she's comfortable with us pogues. doesn't like to let anybody in unless they're something different," jj answered, his brilliant cerulean eyes sparkling under the moonshine.