Deep End || JJ Maybank

[2] Titanic

"Well I'm either going to be at John B's or Kiara's, so there's no point in her coming, except to house sit."

"No, you aren't. You will be coming home where I know that you're safe, not with those delinquents you call friends."

I let out a breathy laugh. "No." I shook my head, as he turned his full attention to me. "Look, you haven't really been here, so you don't really get to tell me what to do. If you actually gave a single fuck about me, you wouldn't constantly leave. So no, I don't think I will be coming home!" My voice rose a bit, which doesn't happen very often. I'm not an angry person, and I try my hardest not to be when it comes to dealing with my father, but sometimes it's just too hard.

"Don't you raise your voice at me. Everything that I do is for you. I have-"

"How can you say that? You've never been there for me. Ever since mom died-"

"Don't speak of her."

"You're telling me to not speak about my mother? Why? Because you're sad she's dead? News flash, dad, I'm sad too! But you've never noticed. Never. Just leave, I'm better off without you here."

I stormed off to my room. I grabbed a backpack, shoving clothing and toiletries and everything else I could possibly need into it. Before I left, I quickly showered, trying to scrub away the memories of that conversation. I changed into a fresh pair of jean shorts, a crop top, and a light jacket to wear. Luckily my father knew better and was gone before I went back downstairs. I then began my journey back to John B's, which was extremely long. The ride from Figure Eight to the Cut wasn't easy, but I didn't mind.

Now, my friends constantly asked me why we never hung at my place, because according to them, it's a castle. While it is big, it isn't anything spectacular. It was just an empty home filled with useless antiques that had no sentimental value. There wasn't even a single picture of my mother, the only one I had left was trapped in the back of my phone case. My father thought it was best to forget about her, and apparently me as well.

As I continued my ride to the Château, the weather became worse. Gray clouds began to cover the usual clear, blue sky, causing the wind to pick up. My unzipped jacket whipped the zipper back and forth against my hip as I skated. Soon enough it was sprinkling, but with my luck, as I got closer to John B's it started to downpour, already causing the streets to flood a bit. My hair that was still wet from my shower stuck to my face.

I walked up the porch, leaving my board outside, but in a place I knew it wouldn't blow away. I looked down at my clothes, which clung tightly to my skin. I went inside to find JJ laying on the pull-out that I slept on last night.

"Have a nice ride?" The blond asked, adjusting his arms behind his neck to support his head.

"Wonderful, thank you," I sarcastically said. Looking down at my sopping clothes and JJ's vulnerable state, one side of my lips slowly upturned.

"Oh man, I am just so tired," I obnoxiously fake yawned, then jumped right onto JJ, and wrapped my wet body around his own.

"Aw gross, Bryant! Get off!" He laughed, eventually prying me off of him. "I'm sad you didn't wear a white shirt, now that would've been-" He completed his thought by blowing a chef's kiss, to which I shoved his face.

"I'm going to go change," I pointed towards the empty bedroom where I was sleeping tonight. Just as I picked up my bag, John B busted through the back door, soaking wet and out of breath.