PROM QUEEN:
CARRIED BY THE CURRENT.
FOR THE LONGEST TIME, Annabelle had been convinced that the mystery behind the true meaning of life was something that could easily be unraveled with the simple touch of her dainty fingers. With the chaos that the universe always seemed to hurl at the vulnerable population of human beings that resided on the so-called beautiful planet of earth, which had singlehandedly been destroyed by its very own inhabitants, she assumed that it was all about survival—not, like, in some weird epidemic type way where a zombie apocalypse wiped out a majority of the human population. Well, actually, it was still somewhat about the survival of the fittest where you were forced to follow the path that the universe sees fit and if you were unable to handle the constant pressure that weighed you down...well...you'd die, basically. Through Annabelle's eyes, that's how the world was constructed. Freedom of choice had never really existed for her, so she had stupidly assumed that everyone else viewed life as one huge torment that you endured until your body was placed into a casket and buried underground, six feet under where your flesh would be torn to shreds by the hungry critters.
She had lived her life surrounded by the worst of the worst. Sandra and Sebastian Monroe had raised her in the toxic environment they'd created, teaching her that marriage was not in the slightest bit something she wanted. It was this entrapping, emotionally draining concept that was invented for the sole purpose of driving one mad (at least that's the way Annabelle viewed it). Most of the moments that the couple spent together consisted of unnecessary arguing that only drove them further away from one another, no sort of love detected within the awful words that the pair screamed at each other at night when they assumed their children were sleeping. There was this noticeable hatred that reeked from the two whenever they were in the presence of one another. It only made Annabelle question why they were even together at this point. Surely it had to be because of the foundation they'd built, but perhaps there was more to the story that had yet to be revealed.
It wasn't just the arguing that had led Annabelle to draw the conclusion that marriage was just one huge step that people leaped at to fit in with the standard that society had implemented.
There was also a lot of dishonesty.
See, it was no secret that her parents' relationship lacked honesty. With the lack of communication in their marriage, cheating was bound to happen at some point, and that it did...multiple times, actually. It had gotten to the point where Annabelle didn't have a sufficient amount of fingers to count the faces that ever so casually strolled in and out of her home every few months (disgusting, right?). I mean, you'd think that the Monroe's would, at the very least, have the decency to book some hotel room and arrange their not-so-secret affairs to take place there, but no, that was far too much work apparently. Instead, they dragged their dirty little 'secrets' through the front doors of the Monroe Estate, staining the floorboards with these cowardly acts. It wasn't like the mansion provided any sort of comfort, but still, it was wrong in so many ways.
In all the years that Annabelle had spent alive, she had very few good memories that she reminisced about whenever she was feeling down. None of those memories involved her mother, but her father...he wasn't equally as bad as Sandra Monroe. Now, don't get it twisted, he didn't exactly have any of the qualities required to be a qualified father of the year, but he had his moments. Rarely, but he could be a decent guy whenever he wanted to take on the role of a father, instead of the classist multi-millionaire that everyone knew him as.
Even though Sebastian had hardly been present in Annabelle's life when she was growing up, due to the fact that he was still in the process of completing his residency at the time, he would still make the times they spent worth remembering. She was convinced that if he, and only he, had raised her, he might've actually developed a relationship with his youngest child, or any of his two children for that matter.
The thing about Sebastian Monroe was that despite him being absent for most of Annabelle's life, he still treated her like a daughter whereas Sandra went through great measures to ensure that the youngest child of the Monroe Clan endured this never-ending pain that would stay with the girl for a lifetime, which left the idea of never being good enough engraved in Annabelle's mind, playing in an endless loop that would surely drive her mad at some period in her life. The sixteen-year-old had never understood why her mother resented her to such a great extent. She'd absolutely demolished most of the humility that her body obtained and even then, it wasn't enough for her to be painted as that picture-perfect daughter.
And, boy, did it fucking suck.
"This is cute. Where'd you get it?" Genevieve suddenly spoke up, stepping out from the walk-in closet with a pink, backless top that hardly covered up anything.
With her entire world quite literally flipped upside down due to the fact that her body was hanging from the queen-sized bed, Annabelle raised her eyebrows. She couldn't exactly tell what clothing item her friend was holding up, so she quickly pulled her body upwards, squirming at the sudden blood flow that seeped from her head and into the rest of her body. Her head immediately began pounding at the sudden motion, but she tried to shake it off, parting her lips to speak. "Uh, Zara?" She took a wild guess, not knowing where she'd purchased half of the clothing items that were lying around in her ginormous closet. Buying clothes was an obsession of hers and the emotional attachment that she'd managed to develop towards certain pieces didn't make it any easier. "It's all yours . . . if you want it." She made sure to add, not at all caring whose hands that shirt landed in next. It wasn't her style anyway.
Grinning widely, Genevieve gave her a grateful look, already beginning to picture all the outfits she could make with that single top. "Cool. Thanks."
At that, Annabelle threw her body back into her comfortable bed, relief taking over at the warmth that her blankets provided her with. All she wanted to do was take the longest nap of her life to try and shake off the tiredness that she'd been having to deal with for the past week, but she knew that the possibility of that happening was slim because, in exactly two hours from now, she, Genevieve, and Janet-who was on the verge of falling asleep as well-would have to vacate the premises to head down to the Island club to set up for Genevieve's party that was taking place that night.
Meanwhile, body sprawled out on the large beanbag placed in one of the corners of Annabelle's large bedroom, Janet's droopy eyelids grew heavier with every second that passed, forcing her phone to slip from her grasp, landing on the ground with a loud thud that quickly caused her to jolt up. She looked around, hoping that neither of her two friends had witnessed that, but the two girls looked towards her. Quickly, she cleared her throat, sitting up. "So, how many people did you invite to your extravaganza?" She looked towards Genevieve, slightly cringing at the name that the newly turned, sixteen-year-old girl had stuck with.
Momentarily peeking her head out from behind the large closet doors, Genevieve shrugged her shoulders. "Uh, just the guys, Sarah, Rafe, Topper, Kelce, and a few other people from school, why?"
"You invited Topper Thornton? Why the hell would you do that?" Annabelle muttered into one of her pillows, hugging it close to her body as she shut her eyes. She couldn't even begin to put it into words, but she absolutely loathed the blonde-haired boy. Sure the two had one quality in common, and that happened to be treating the working class like trash, but Annabelle had observed the way that the boy belittled women and that had never sat right with her. She prayed that he'd change his ways at some point in his life, but that was unlikely and she knew it.
With a weird look tugging at her face, Genevieve slowly nodded her head. The way she stared at Annabelle made it seem like her next few words were common knowledge at this point. "Cause he and Sarah are like together now." She spoke slowly so that Annabelle could process this news.
Eyes widening at the revelation, Annabelle's mouth dropped open, forming an 'o' shape. She'd always been up-to-date with the gossip that was muttered inside of the thick walls at the academy, but she'd been far too tangled in her own little world the past two weeks that she'd actually managed to fall behind. "Sarah's dating Topper? Pineapple-looking hair Topper?" She asked, complete disbelief washing over her face because she'd always assumed that Sarah would rebel against her father and date someone from The Cut. For some odd reason, the blonde had always struck her as the type of girl who wanted to recreate the modern-day Romeo and Juliet...without the whole dying portion of it all, of course. "Geez, how low are her standards?" She continued to speak after Genevieve sent a nod in her direction, confirming her previous questions.
"Who the hell even names a kid Topper?" Janet intervened, laughing slightly at the thought of the doctor's face when they saw the name Topper scribbled onto the birth certificate. She'd pay millions to be able to witness that moment. "Like, how much do you have to hate your kid to name them that?"
"Cynthia Thornton is a cruel, cruel woman." Genevieve's voice grew distorted as she walked towards the opposite end of the closet to obtain another clothing item that had caught her eye. "People say that Mrs. Crain is the scariest bitch on this island, but those people have clearly never met the wicked witch of figure eight."
"Uh, didn't Crain like murder her own husband in cold blood?" Annabelle pressed her head further into her pillow, completely dumbfounded at the thought of Genevieve thinking that the woman was actually worse than an alleged murderer. "That bitch is scary." She muttered.
"You actually believe that urban legend?" Janet loudly snorted.
"Duh." Annabelle defensively said, quickly sitting back up to look towards Janet. "Don't you remember when we would play hide and seek around her house when we were younger? She came out one day and gave us one of the evilest looks in existence. All these years later and I still have nightmares about it." She shivered slightly, the image of Crain's cold eyes staring deep into hers still imprinted into her mind. No amount of effort would ever allow her to forget the complete terror that struck her that day.
"Isn't she blind?" Genevieve called out, her voice growing stronger. She stepped out of the enclosed area, a pair of Levi jeans in her hands. She held them up, receiving a nod in return from Annabelle which let her know that she could have them.
"Is she?" Annabelle inquired, her face scrunched up. That made a lot of sense now that she thought about it. "Huh, well that would explain the whole glass eye thing."
Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door, forcing Annabelle to snap her head towards the wooden panel. She stared at it for a couple of seconds, silence consuming the room. A hesitant look tugged at her face, knowing that the only person home at the moment was her father, and she did not want to engage in any conversation of the sort with him, but she also knew that she didn't have a choice.
"Come in!" Annabelle finally shouted, lacking the energy she required to get up herself.
The doorknob turned slightly and in stepped Sebastian Monroe. He looked around the room until his eyes landed on his daughter who was already staring back at him with an annoyed look lingering in her eyes. "Anne, a word?" He cleared his throat, motioning out towards the hallway.
Annabelle furrowed her brows. "Yeah, okay."
"Hello, Mr. Monroe." Genevieve suddenly spoke up again, looking the older man up and down, making him and his daughter severely uncomfortable.
"I'll wait in the hallway." Sebastian tried to hide the deep discomfort that was a result of the freshly turned sixteen-year-old girl hitting on him.
Annabelle waited for the door to shut before flinging a pillow in Genevieve's direction, watching it slam into her face which immediately caught the girl off guard. "Stop hitting on my dad." She scolded the girl, a grossed-out look adorning her face.
"First of all, ow!" Genevieve whisper-shouted, taking the time to reach down to grab ahold of the pillow that had smacked her. She used all her strength to aim it at Annabelle's face, but missed, resulting in a slight grumble leaving her lips. "And second of all, tell him to stop being so hot. Like, it should be illegal to be that good-looking. I mean, how old is he? Thirty-eight?" She licked her lips in a seductive way, making the girl even more uncomfortable than she'd been before.
Annabelle blinked slowly, deciding it'd be best to not even say anything else because knowing Genevieve, she'd end up saying something that would scar her for life. Instead, she held up her middle finger, earning one back in return, but she didn't get to see it because she was already out of the room by that time.
The sound of the bedroom door shutting caused Sebastian's ears to perk up, forcing his attention towards his youngest daughter who was now stood across from him with her arms crossed over her chest. Normally, Annabelle was aware of the topics of their brief conversations beforehand, but this time, she had no clue. And they hardly even communicated as is, so that also managed to throw her completely off guard.
"Hey, kid." Sebastian began, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet, hands tucked into the pockets of the navy blue suit he wore. It was clear that whatever he had to say was about to upset Annabelle.
"Hey?" Annabelle raised a single brow upwards. He was being overly nice, and that on its own didn't sit right with her.
"So, your mom changed her mind and she wants you at that charity event she's hosting tomorrow." Sebastian blurted out, lips pursed into a thin line as he waited for his daughter to process the words.
When Annabelle fully processed what he was saying, she shook her head in disbelief. This was so typical of her mother that it didn't even shock her anymore, if anything, it just flat-out annoyed her. "Are you kidding? I specifically didn't go dress shopping with mom this past week because she made it extremely clear that my presence wasn't necessary at this event!" She clenched her jaw, scoffing.
"Well, that was before she found out that she was gonna be headlining the upcoming issue of Forbes magazine," Sebastian informed her, a scoff of his own leaving his lips. Truth is, he too, detested the idea.
"Of course she is." Annabelle clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, the loud clicking sound echoing through the hallway. "What's her plan? She wants to paint some sort of picture-perfect family so that people will applaud her, bow down to her...like some sort of Greek goddess?" The tone she used was mocking because she found it hilarious that celebrities used the same tactics as her mother. They manipulated their supporters, feeding them lies about their lives—when in reality, it was in shambles. Constructing the facade was easy, but gathering up every tiny piece when it slowly began to fall apart? Not equally as easy. The truth would see the light of day one day and Annabelle couldn't wait for her mother to get her own slice of karma. "I can already picture it. Sandra Monroe, a cardiothoracic surgeon by day, mother by night. How the hell does she do it...oh, no, that's right, she doesn't." She added, using her hands to add a more dramatic effect.
Defensively holding his hands up, Sebastian parted his lips to speak. "Hey, your mom's rules, not mine." He clarified, letting Annabelle know that he had no part in this. "And you should appreciate that we agreed to let you spend the night somewhere that isn't home even after that stunt you pulled."
Annabelle rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but when Athena trashed a yacht with her friends last summer, you acted as if it didn't happen and completely let her off the hook." She pointed out the unfairness and evident favoritism that had taken a major role in all of this. "Excuse my language, but that's absolute bullshit." She emphasized, tired of the way she was getting treated for committing an error.
"I agree." Sebastian's response surprised Annabelle, forcing a shocked expression to paint itself onto her face. She was definitely not expecting that. "I was in an entirely different continent when that happened, so the matter was completely out of my hands. I can't go back in time to enforce some sort of punishment on your sister, so what do you want me to do, Annabelle?"
"I want you to cut me some slack." Annabelle almost felt the need to shout, but she restrained herself from doing so and remained calm. It was difficult, but she managed. " I messed up and I'm perfectly capable of admitting that, but completely cutting me off financially? It sucks. Having a job freaking sucks." She admitted, running her hands through her hair in frustration.
Over the past two weeks, Annabelle had realized two things. Number one, she was not in the slightest cut out for a world where money wasn't always a snap of a finger away. She had been completely oblivious to the number of times she would insert the chip of her debit card into the chip reader whenever she'd go out to make unnecessary purchases, so you could already imagine how difficult it'd been for her to try to adjust to this. Nothing could've prepared her for any of this. And then there was number two...customers...god, were they a pain in the ass. Like, she literally wanted to strangle them, which was hypocritical of her considering how she'd treated workers in the past. Oh, and who the hell was FICA? More importantly, why the hell were they taking her money?
"Welcome to the real world." Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't about to admit it out loud, but he actually liked the idea of one of his daughters getting an insight into the reality that a lot of people lived, and had it been up to him, the two teenage girls wouldn't have been equally as spoiled as they had been growing up. "A lot of teenagers your age have jobs. I had a job when I was your age."
"Yeah, normal teenagers." Annabelle didn't mean to come off as some sort of self-righteous bitch, but there was no other way to phrase it, really. She'd been drowned in wealth her entire life and not everyone got to say that. Others were drowned in poverty, unable to ever really get a shot at living life to its fullest potential because their constant worry was whether they'd still have a roof over their heads by the time a bill was placed into their mailboxes the first of every month. "Look, is that all you wanted to discuss with me? I gotta get back in there before Genevieve empties out my entire closet." She gestured towards her room, ready for this short conversation to be done with.
Sebastian nodded.
Clapping her hands together, Annabelle sucked in a deep breath. "Great." She tried her best to sound enthusiastic, miserably failing. Before even turning back around to walk into her room, she allowed the next words to escape from her mouth. "And while you're out delivering messages, can you tell mom that I'm not a pawn that she can use at her own convenience? Pretty please?"
"Aren't you quite the comedian today." He stared at his daughter in amusement.
"Well, someone's gotta keep this family afloat."
Sebastian shook his head at her. "Hey, uh, I'd prefer to not have to head down to the sheriff's station later, so stay out of trouble and be home tomorrow by ten in the morning."
"You got it."
｡･:*:ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹
HOURS LATER, Annabelle found herself lying on an outdoor chaise lounge chair, her head pounding from the sound of the music that traveled through the cold air. Right now, she was realizing just about how stupid she'd been to believe Genevieve when the Atkins girl told her that she'd only invited a few people to her birthday celebration that was currently taking place. Partying, drugs, alcohol. She was accustomed to that lifestyle, but she was tired of it. Tired of being surrounded by all these people who she saw every single day at school. All she wanted was a single weekend alone. She wanted to watch crappy romcoms while stuffing her face with junk food that would surely make her sick after a while. Instead, she spent her time at high school parties, the pressure to consume alcohol always weighing her down.
Annabelle had her eyes set on the ocean that was visible from where she sat. Watching the waves crash against one another simultaneously was almost comforting. She knew that her newfound fascination towards the sea was most likely due to the alcohol in her system that was slowly beginning to pump throughout her veins and up into her brain, but she enjoyed it nonetheless.
If she really put her mind to it, she was able to escape from reality and into her own little world where music wasn't vigorously flowing through her ears. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't easily distracted, so the slightest noise was enough to snap her from the thoughts that would often threaten to consume her.
"Not having fun?" A familiar voice pulled Annabelle away from her short-lived reverie.
The smallest of smiles formed on Annabelle's glossed lips when she noticed Nate stood behind her. Though she hardly ever spent one on one time with him, he was always there and she appreciated that. She wasn't gonna deny that he annoyed the living crap out of her at first, but over time, he slowly became the older brother she wished she had. "Just tired." She shrugged her shoulders.
"Not drinking tonight?" Nate questioned, taking a seat on the chair beside Annabelle.
Annabelle almost wheezed at that. When the hell didn't she drink? "Nope, I am one hundred percent sober." She grinned widely, holding up the three empty cans of Caribbean rum and then proceeding to point towards the tin bucket on the table beside her that contained a $400 bottle of Dom Perignon champagne that had yet to be opened.
Nate shook his head slightly, laughing. "Stupid of me to assume."
"Incredibly." Annabelle chuckled, leaning back into the chair with her attention focused on Nate. "How about you? What's your excuse?"
"Rafe pulled out the coke," Nate informed the tipsy girl.
He didn't have to say anything else for Annabelle to nod her head in understanding. "Well, it's not really a party until kooks are sniffing white powder off of the table with a hundred dollar bill, right?"
"Right." Nate agreed, looking towards the drunk teenagers who scattered the suite and then back at Annabelle. "So, what's on your mind? You look completely drained." He noticed the absence of energy that usually consumed the raven-haired girl.
"Just tired," Annabelle repeated, knowing he wouldn't believe it, but she didn't want to talk about her feelings right now.
"Is it Xavier? Did he do something to you? I'll knock some sense into him if I have to." Nate stared at the Danvers boy who was occupied, doing body shots with some random girl.
"God, why does everyone think that I'm like obsessed with him?" Annabelle groaned, slightly annoyed with all these assumptions that she and Xavier would ever date. It wasn't happening...ever! "I don't want a relationship with him—or anyone, for that matter."
"You know, he thinks you've got something going on with that Maybank guy."
"I don't." Annabelle grew defensive at that, sitting up to snap her head in Xavier's direction, her stomach twisting in disgust the sight of his mouth pressed up against a girl's belly button. Whoever the hell invented body shots deserved a special place in hell and she stood by that. "And even if I did, he's in no position to have any sort of opinion on what I do with my life." She continued, rolling her eyes.
"You'd get with a pogue?" Nate teased her, receiving a deadpan look in return.
"I never said that." Annabelle shook her head in denial.
"You implied it."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"No."
"Yeah, Anne, you kind of did."
Standing up to her full height, Annabelle pulled down the bottom of the tan ruched drawstring mini dress that was hugging her body. "You know what, I'm tired of this." She referred to the birthday celebration that was taking place inside of the suite. "I'm gonna take a walk." She turned on the heels of the faux leather knee-high boots that were doing a horrible job at keeping her legs warm.
"C'mon, I was just messing with you," Nate called out, his laughter getting the best of him at that moment which further vexed Annabelle.
Deciding to ignore him, Annabelle began making her way towards the French doors, but she didn't get far. She was quick to turn back around, heading straight for the table that was placed adjacent to where she'd previously been sat. Without uttering a word, she grabbed ahold of the cold bottle of champagne from the bucket, tensing up at how cold the thick glass was.
"Anne, lighten up!" Nate shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the loud music that filled Annabelle's ears the second she stepped foot into the living room area.
Eyeing her surroundings, Annabelle let out a sigh, focusing her attention on the door that led out into the hallway. She began to navigate her way towards it, finding that it was much further than it appeared. Of course, it probably only felt that way because of the amount of drunk teenagers who managed to bump into her as she tried her hardest to get the hell out of there before the thick air could suffocate her. The feeling of their sweaty skin sticking to the faux leather jacket that she wore was enough for her to speed up her pace, wanting nothing more than to be out of there before the salad she'd eaten earlier rose up from her stomach and spluttered from her mouth.
"Hey, where are you going?" Genevieve, who wasn't anywhere close to being sober, grabbed Annabelle's hand before the raven-haired girl could make it to the door. "This party's just getting started!" She slurred on her words, tripping over her own feet in the process which nearly caused the two to tumble down.
Luckily, Annabelle gripped onto Genevieve's right shoulder before the intoxicated, birthday girl could fall to the ground. Her conscience wouldn't allow her to vacate the premises without knowing that Genevieve was out of harm's way, so she placed the champagne bottle on a nearby table in order to be able to wrap her right arm around her friend's waist to help her keep a steady balance. That action nearly resulted in the two falling, again.
The four inches that Genevieve had over Annabelle made it almost impossible for them to come up with a secure plan that wouldn't result in someone face-planting. "Here, hold this." Annabelle handed the bottle to Genevieve once they'd worked out a solution to transport the Atkins girl to the nearby bedroom.
Genevieve made a face, eyes slightly widened. "You're gonna drink this whole thing?"
"Not the whole thing." Annabelle recoiled slightly. The thought of drinking the entire thing and having a massive hangover tomorrow morning almost made her not want to have any of the champagne. "Just a really good portion of it."
"Are you gonna go hook up with like a really, really hot dude? Because I think that you should definitely do that." A drunken Genevieve giggled loudly, a huge grin on her face.
Choosing to avoid the question, Annabelle weaved her way through the small crowd of people until they made it to the door that led into the bedroom. When it came down to turning the knob, her brain nearly crumbled to pieces. She looked towards Genevieve, taking in a deep breath as she removed the one arm that was supporting her. How she managed to catch the brown-eyed girl before she could fall? Who the hell knows, but they somehow managed to make it into the room.
Annabelle released Genevieve from her grasp once there was enough space for her to fall comfortably onto the bed. She took the bottle away from her first, of course.
"Mmm, I feel like I'm floating on a cloud," Genevieve mumbled into the soft mattress, moving around slightly to get comfortable.
Annabelle walked towards the small trashcan placed behind the nightstand. She picked it up and then placed it beside Genevieve so that the girl could use it at her convenience when the alcohol floated towards her throat. "How much did you drink?" She quietly asked, gathering up enough strength to flip the girl onto her side. She didn't need her to choke on her own vomit.
"I stopped counting after my sixth drink." Genevieve's eyelids began to grow heavy, her voice weakening.
"I'll be right back," Annabelle assured her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before grabbing the bottle once again.
Genevieve didn't respond, already fast asleep.
A hearty laugh left Annabelle's lips. She flipped the light switch off and opened the door, making sure to lock it behind her so that no one else could get in while she was out.
Once she was back in the living room area, she nearly sprinted towards the door that allowed her access to the hallway. This time, she made it out of the suite, heaving a sigh of relief when no one stopped her.
Something she quickly realized was that the music could still be heard through the thin walls, causing her to furrow her brows in confusion. How come no one had called to file a noise complaint?
Nonetheless, she continued her journey towards the staircase that led downstairs. They felt steeper than they had when she was first going up them, but she blamed that on her current state. Being cautious to not tumble downwards, she leaned her body up against the railing, earning strange stairs from an elderly couple who was making their way upstairs while the tipsy sixteen-year-old was making her way towards the main lobby.
When the sound of people chatting amongst themselves emitted through the warm air, she realized she'd reached the main area. It was almost relieving to be out of that suite that held a bunch of intoxicated teenagers. Unfortunately for Annabelle, that relief came to an immediate end when one of the doors collided with her face, sending her towards the ground as she hissed in pain, applying pressure to her forehead. That was definitely gonna result in a knot.
"Fucking dipshit!" Annabelle loudly cussed before she could even get a good look at the person who'd been responsible for smacking her with the door. "You almost made me drop my damn champagne—"
"Shit, are you okay?" The familiar voice only caused her incoming headache to intensify. And the laughter following that question only managed to piss her off.
Annabelle groaned. "Of course I'm not okay, you ass. You literally just smacked me with that stupid door." She grumbled. This night literally had some sort of personal vendetta against her or something. "I think you just damaged my brain."
"Cheer up, I don't think that brain of yours was of any use, to begin with." JJ teased her, tossing his apron over his shoulder.
A sarcastic laugh left Annabelle's lips, her face falling into a deadpan look immediately. Clearly, she did not find this equally as entertaining as the blonde-haired boy. "Well, can you at least help me up?"
JJ reached his hand out, feeling her smaller one tighten around his as she used all the strength in her body to pull herself up. When she nearly fell...again, he used his other arm to support her, an amused look coating his face. "How drunk are you right now? On a scale of 1-10?"
"Not drunk enough." Annabelle huffed, tearing away from his grasp. "I seriously cannot believe that I'm even about to ask this, especially considering the fact that you nearly killed me with that door, but care for a drink? I don't like drinking alone." Her lips formed into a line, the bottle in her hand coming into view.
Flashing her a weird stare, JJ crossed his arms over his chest. He searched for some sort of clue that would allow him to draw the conclusion that this was some sort of sick trap that Annabelle was leading him towards, but he had zero luck. For the first time ever, he was witnessing the Monroe girl being genuine, and honestly, it was quite terrifying. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Annabelle Monroe?" He squinted his eyes, a suspicious look being sent in her direction.
Rolling her eyes, Annabelle dryly chuckled. "Haha. Real funny, Maybank." She shook her head. "So, what do ya say?"
JJ tapped his index finger against his chin, humming. "Sure. It's not like I've got anything better to do."
"I don't doubt that." Annabelle bluntly said.
An idea suddenly popped into the blonde's mind, causing him to hold up that same finger. "Wait here." He instructed, a grin tugging at his lips. "I've got something in my locker that'll make this even better."
"Wha—" Annabelle began, quickly cutting herself off when JJ disappeared into the hallway that he'd previously made his way out of. "And he's gone. Great." She quietly muttered to herself, letting out a quiet whine when she felt a throbbing pain on her forehead from the harsh encounter she'd had with the door.
Without a second thought, she brought the bottle in her hand towards her skin, firmly pressing it against the aching area to help relieve the pain. It earned her a few weird stares from the people around, but she didn't care. The cold touch from the alcoholic beverage took away a small portion of the discomfort she was going through and that's all that mattered to her right now.
Though she soon realized that they weren't staring at her because of how ridiculous she looked It was because she was a minor in possession of an alcoholic potent.
At the sudden realization, she slowly lowered the champagne, tucking it behind her jacket so that it could no longer be seen by the public. It wasn't enough to stop the staring, which made her severely anxious, resulting in her awkwardly swaying back and forth as she waited for JJ to come back out. And for some god-forsaken reason, time seemed to slow in that moment because the blonde took his sweet time to retrieve whatever he'd gone to fetch from his locker.
So, you could imagine the relief that Annabelle felt when JJ reappeared. For a few seconds, she stared at him in confusion—that is until he showed her the palm of his hand, revealing the green cannabis that was rolled to perfection.
She wasn't all that surprised when she spotted the joint—considering that it was JJ, one of the biggest stoners on the island. What did confuse her was why he even kept the narcotic stored away in his locker. "You keep that in there?" She raised a thin eyebrow up at him. "Isn't that like...not allowed?"
JJ shrugged his shoulders in response, tucking the joint behind his ear for safe-keeping, of course. "I live life on the edge, Belle." He tried to refrain from using the shortened version of her name, but he couldn't help it. "You should try it sometime."
Far too uninterested in continuing this conversation, Annabelle signaled for JJ to follow her. He wasn't exactly sure where she was leading him, but he followed close behind her nonetheless until she took a sharp turn into one of the several hallways that the large building appeared to contain. When the particular door she was searching for came into view, she wrapped her hand around the knob, pushing it open so that the pair could get inside.
JJ looked around, perplexed. He tried to develop some sort of liking towards the plain, boring, storage room that he'd been dragged into, but failed. "Are you about to slaughter me in cold blood?"
A half-smile formed on Annabelle's face at his stupidity. "Yes."
She proceeded to grab his hand, amazed at the fact that he'd failed to notice the metal railing that led to a steep flight of stairs. It was gonna be a pain in the ass to get down them once the alcohol took control, and that was certain, but she pushed that thought to the side, making her way upstairs and towards the spot she was actually taking the blonde to.
He was surprised, to say the very least, at this gem that was hidden away. "Wow, since when does this place have an attic?" He looked towards Annabelle.
"Seriously? I share my secret spot with you and you're more amazed at the fact that there's an attic?" Annabelle narrowed her eyes.
"Oh, yeah, I guess this place is cool." JJ looked down at her, realizing that her hand was still interlocked with his. At the sight of that, he couldn't help the smug look that painted itself onto his face. "Your hand warm there, Monroe?"
Knitting her eyebrows together, Annabelle looked at him in confusion. That is until she realized what he was referring to, which resulted in her pulling her hand away from his, rubbing the palm of it against the soft material of her dress.
To avoid the stench of cockiness that JJ reeked of, she walked away from him, and instead, walked towards the window seat that had a perfect view of the ocean. Once she'd gotten the window open, plus the bottle of champagne, she patted the spot across from her.
As soon as everything was situated, silence fell between the two teenagers, the calming sound of the waves crashing against one another filling the thick air. Had it been up to her, Annabelle would've gladly kept it that way until they parted ways because truth is, her serotonin levels were at their highest whenever she was at peace with her own mind. And the howling of the gentle breeze coinciding with the waves, brought her just that.
"How'd you find this place, anyway?"
Annabelle tore her gaze away from the window, taking a swig from the champagne because god knows she needed it. "My parents have been dragging me to countless business dinners since I was able to walk. I wandered off all the time and winded up in here one day." She briefly explained, handing the bottle off to the boy seated across from her.
"Daughter to world-class surgeons. What's that shit like?" JJ took a swig of his own, prepared for some arrogant response in return, but what he received was the exact opposite of that.
"I wouldn't know." Annabelle shrugged her shoulders. "I've never actually developed a relationship with my parents these past sixteen years. I'm nothing more than an accessory to them that they can flaunt whenever it benefits them." She swallowed thickly, not entirely sure why she was saying any of this to someone who could probably give less of a shit. This was the alcohol talking, not her. A sober version of herself wouldn't even be here right now.
JJ didn't know how to respond to that. He'd always pictured the arrogant kooks having the best time of their lives with the infinite money that they had stashed away in their bank accounts. That's all someone like him could ever actually see. Not once had it occurred to him that it was all an act. The simplest of thoughts never crossed his mind because of how great actors the rich seemed to be.
At his lack of response, Annabelle cleared her throat. "It's boring." She quietly said, referring to the part about being a kook. "There's no room for me to speak for everyone, but it's exhausting having to go over the same exact routine over and over. All we teenagers around here do is party like there's no tomorrow, but then tomorrow actually comes and we're hit with instant regret from the actions we stupidly decided to make the previous night. It's actually kinda funny, though, cause we just end up placing ourselves in that same position the week after. It's an endless cycle of torment that you don't wanna put yourself through...trust me."
"Partying without any consequences? Sounds like paradise." JJ handed the bottle back to her, making sure to wipe the rim.
"If that were the case, I wouldn't be here right now, drinking this crap with you, of all people." Annabelle held the bottle up, shrugging her shoulders. She knew that her wording probably made that sound more offensive than originally intended, but the words were just pouring out of her mouth right now without being processed by her mind. "I mean, it was fun at first, but over time, it began to feel like some sort of punishment."
"Then why do it?" He asked, moving around slightly to grab the lighter from the pocket of his jeans.
"When I figure out the answer, you'll be the first to know."
The Maybank boy looked up at her, his expression softening when he locked eyes with her sad ones. It was a shocking sight to take in, because for the first time ever, he could actually see the side of Annabelle that she tried hard to hide. It was like he was realizing that she was an actual human who was capable of feeling human emotions. He was staring right at the version of herself that she could've been if it hadn't been for the pressure to be perfect weighing her down her entire life.
Without another word, he placed the joint in between his lips, cupping his hand around it in order to be able to light it with the lighter in his other hand. He took the first hit, inhaling the herb, joy taking over his face before he exhaled the thick smoke. Then, he reached his arm out towards Annabelle, offering her that same euphoric feeling that he was bound to feel after taking a couple more hits that would surely increase the dopamine levels in his body.
"No thanks." Annabelle refused, shaking her head.
"C'mon, don't tell me you've never smoked weed before." He slightly tilted his head to the side, pushing the joint further towards her.
Annabelle stayed silent, grazing the top row of her teeth against her bottom lip.
JJ's eyes widened in shock. "Shit, you've never smoked weed before?" He quickly realized.
"I've only ever popped molly." She sheepishly admitted, not too proud of that moment of hers that landed her a ten-day suspension. "I'm not big on drugs."
"You've done Molly, but you've never smoked weed?" JJ questioned, earning a head nod in return. "You never fail to amaze me, you know that?"
"I have that effect on people." A smug smirk met Annabelle's lips. "Here, hand it over. If I suffer through some sort of lung failure, I'm blaming you." She pointed a finger directly at him, slipping the rolled-up joint in between her very index and middle finger with a hesitant look on her face.
"Just take it slow, or else you'll-"
Loud coughs emitted through the small space, the smoke spilling from Annabelle's mouth after she inhaled far too quickly, sending it towards the wrong pipe. She could feel a burning sensation scratching at her throat as she coughed loudly, trying to get rid of the clouded substance that had managed to betray her.
"Choke." JJ finished his sentence.
After a couple more seconds of trying to gain control of her breath, Annabelle let out a short gasp. She was sure that her life was going to come to an abrupt end after that, but man, was she grateful that it hadn't. "Holy fuck." Her voice was raspy as she cleared her stuffy airway.
Once he was certain that Annabelle was through with her coughing fit, JJ loudly shorted. He took this time to lean forward, taking the joint from her grasp. "Well, you weren't lying." Amusement trailed in his tone.
"Well, no shit, I wasn't lying." Annabelle scoffed, taking another swig of her champagne bottle to get rid of the clumpy feeling in her throat. Seeing that there was a ton of carbon dioxide lingering at the top of the bubbly liquid, it didn't help in the slightest, but she didn't mind. After all, it was simply about the thrill that it brought her.
Taking yet another hit of the joint that was now in his possession, JJ tilted his head back, allowing it to rest on the wall behind him. His tongue swirled around his mouth for a couple of seconds before he handed the small intoxicant back to her, a look of determination settled on his face. He wasn't like trying to peer pressure her or whatever. If anything, he was trying to show her how life-changing your first high could be. He still remembered his and how that small herb had slowly turned into the solution to all his problems whenever life decided to be a pain in the ass. "Focus on your breathing, inhale slowly, and then breathe out. It's all about timing, Monroe." He instructed.
Uncertain, and slightly scared, Annabelle looked down at the burning rolling paper that held that intoxicating herb. "How will I know if it actually worked?"
"Trust me, you'll know."
｡･:*:ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹
THE MOON BEAMED DOWN on the two sixteen-year-old teenagers who were undergoing the after-effects that came with being high off weed. Pushing aside the evident hunger that was mocking Annabelle, she was doing a great job at dealing with her first high. It was actually slightly relieving, even. Definitely better than the molly. Her first encounter with drugs hadn't ended well, so a small part of her feared that this might result in a similar outcome.
Despite the relief that was going through Annabelle's mind, she was still having a difficult time adjusting to the silence right now. Normally, she'd be completely fine with it, because truth be told, the silence was the one thing that managed to comfort her (strange, right?), but in her current state, the ringing in her ears was intensifying with every second that passed by. It was almost maddening.
It went on like that for a couple more minutes until Annabelle couldn't take it anymore. "Can I ask you something?" Her voice tore through the uncomfortable silence that rested upon them, relief washing over her at the barrier she'd successfully jumped over.
"Ask away, your Royal highness." JJ bowed his head, the palm of his hand pressed firmly against his chest in a teasing manner.
Had it not been for the seriousness that was her question, Annabelle would've replied with a snarky remark. Instead, she stared at him for a few seconds, the luminescent sphere in the sky shining brightly against the Maybank boy's clear complexion. She hadn't failed to realize that he looked remarkably different than he had since she last saw him the previous day. The various amount of contusions hadn't been there yesterday which could only mean that they'd recently been placed there. "What happened to your face?" She pursed her lips into a thin line, eyeing the noticeable marks on his cheeks and below his eyes that were a mixture of yellow and purple, slowly beginning to gather a reddish tint around. She winced slightly at the simple thought of the pain he must've been going through.
"Oh, these?" JJ pointed towards his bruised face, a short laugh falling from his lips. "This was all my dad."
Annabelle went silent for a couple of seconds. She had heard about Luke Maybank and the pain he inflicted upon his two kids, but she'd always crossed her fingers, hoping that it was all one huge lie. Because she didn't want to believe that a human being could be so messed up to the point where their only resort was to beat their own children. It made her stomach twist, and the noticeable pain that lingered in JJ's eyes almost, almost, made her heart ache. "I'm sorry." She offered him a smile.
JJ shook his head, looking anywhere besides in her direction. "Don't be. It's not your fault."
"Parents suck." Annabelle blew out a loud sigh, gently throwing her head back to look up at the plain roof that was painted a boring, cream color.
"Can't disagree with that."
Momentarily shutting her eye due to how heavy her eyelids were beginning to feel, Annabelle moved around, reaching into one of the pockets of her jacket to retrieve her phone. When the lock screen lit up, her eyes went wide at the number of text messages that her friends had sent her within the past hour. "Crap, I've gotta go." She mumbled, briefly scanning the time displayed on the small screen. There were approximately two minutes until the clock struck midnight, and she wanted to be out of here before that could happen. Plus, if she stayed any longer, her friends would question her whereabouts. There were several reactions that she would receive if she told them who she was with, and that wasn't a situation she planned on placing herself in.
JJ retrieved his own phone to check the time, chuckling at the similarities that Annabelle's sudden rush to leave had with a particular Disney princess needing to get away the ball ASAP. He'd watched that movie several times whenever he babysat his five-year-old niece, and though he'd never admit it out loud (because his friends wouldn't allow him to live it down), it'd become one of his favorites. "What? Is your carriage about to turn into a rotten pumpkin?" He seemed quite proud of his small joke.
Carefully moving her legs to the side to prevent her dress from going up, Annabelle slid out from the window seat, collecting her phone and the empty champagne bottle. The bubbles from the alcoholic beverage had done an amazing job at leading her towards the finish line that could now qualify her as drunk. Luckily, she'd never been a loud drunk. If anything, she always tried her hardest to pretend that she wasn't highly intoxicated, but in this case, the whites of her eyes were red from the smoke which was a dead giveaway that she wasn't sober. "Something like that." She scrunched her nose up, shrugging her shoulders. "You heading down?"
JJ shook his head in response. He wasn't in a rush to get home. "Nah, I kinda like it up here."
Tangling her fingers through her hair, Annabelle awkwardly began to walk away, not entirely sure if she was supposed to be like nice or whatever, and say bye like a decent human being. It's not like this sudden get-together was arranged or anything, and it's not like she enjoyed his company...right? Yeah, no. Of course, she didn't like his company. That'd be stupid.
Annabelle Monroe did not enjoy being in the presence of those below her. Period!
Yet, for some damn reason, she just sorta stood by the staircase railing, trying to think of anything to say. She wasn't about to admit that this hadn't been equally as bad as she originally thought it would be because god knows she held too much pride for all that bullshit.
"Aloe Vera and ice therapy." Annabelle blurted out before even getting the opportunity to process her words. They just slipped from her mouth, causing her to mentally slap herself. Stupid alcohol!
"What?" JJ looked at her, confused. He began to wonder just how hard the weed had actually hit her.
"Helps with bruises. I—I just thought you should know that." Annabelle waved her hand around her face as if it was his very own. How did she know that? Well, she had done a lot of googling when bruises of her own began popping up on her skin after certain events. It'd worked for her in the past, so she felt nice enough to share this piece of information with someone in need. Only because it felt like the right thing to do...not because she cared or anything. Psst, that would be stupid. Like...really fucking stupid.
JJ allowed himself to smile at how flushed she was right now. He'd only ever seen her treat people like complete trash, so this was quite a sight to take in. He liked this version of her. "Right...thanks." He trailed off, sending her a grateful look.
"Mhm, yeah," Annabelle mumbled. She needed to get the hell out of there before she began to blurt out a bunch of nonsense that would surely haunt her for the rest of her life—no, wait, that's a tad dramatic. Maybe it would only haunt her tomorrow morning, but still. She needed out of this place. "Uh, don't like die or anything on your way home. Cause that'd be like really unfortunate."
"Careful there. You're almost sounding like you care, sweetheart."
With a swift roll of her eyes, Annabelle shook her head in denial. "I don't."
"Yeah, uh-huh." JJ didn't have to look in her direction to see how agitated she was. Her tone was a dead giveaway.
And with that, Annabelle began to make her way down the stairs, unable to witness JJ smiling stupidly to himself because he wouldn't admit it out loud, but Annabelle Monroe was not half as bad as she painted herself to be.
She was just a girl who was trying desperately to make her way out of the bubble wrap that embraced her.
And JJ Maybank was going to help set her loose.
authors note:
before I say anything else, I wanted to thank all of you for 2k reads!! I can't believe that there are actually people reading this book (I hope you're enjoying it so far).
These upcoming chapters include a lot of Annabelle & JJ content, and btw, I did decide to give JJ a sister in this book in case you haven't checked the updated cast.
And before I forget, I'm thinking about including some graphics in this book, so if you'd like to make anything AT ALL that correlates with the story, just pm me!
Remember to vote and comment!
MUAHH, love you all. Thank you for reading! <3