CHAPTER ONE
[1]
song: crystalised by the xx
It was hard for JJ Maybank to be happy that his sister was back home. It was hard for everyone. Putting on smiles and acting like everything was as it used to be, painting 'welcome home!' on an old white sheet, hanging it up on the front porch of John B's home.
John B was dead. Sarah Cameron too.
There was a reluctance to celebrate, a stillness in the air that lingered as no one was quite sure enough as to whether or not it was an appropriate time to or not. On one hand, their friend was home, back to the OBX after spending an entire year doing wilderness therapy, recovering, getting healthy again. On the other hand, their other friends were presumed dead only a week ago, a fatal drowning as the two were caught at sea during a storm.
Cassie knew things were off as soon as her brother picked her up on her final day at Kitty Hawk. He hadn't greeted her with a big smile, or a hug, or any sort of expression that she usually expected from him. Instead, he frowned, told her that he missed her, and that everything was gonna be okay.
She wasn't quite sure what JJ was referring to. The fact that their father was back in jail. The fact that their friends were killed, or the fact that those friends were also accused of a murder they never committed.
JJ had tried his best to write to Cassie every week. There were no phone calls allowed at Kitty Hawk, unless for emergencies. He kept her up to date on all of his adventures with the rest of the crew, which is promptly what he described them as. Adventures. JJ's way of saying: breaking and entering, theft, gunfights, scaling a well, finding four hundred million dollars worth of gold, losing four hundred million dollars worth of gold, stalling a plane from taking off with said gold, getting accused of killing a Sheriff.
It was hard for Cassie to keep up. JJ's handwriting was questionable, his vocabulary even more so. And there were bits and pieces he was leaving out, unintentional, but he forgot how out of the loop she really was at Kitty Hawk. He forgot how long she'd been gone.
She wrote him back every time, asking questions to try and understand, to try and feel the same adrenaline he was feeling when he was experiencing it all first hand. But every time he responded, there was a new adventure that he had to tell her about, leaving all of her previous questions unanswered, and only prompting new ones.
The only time JJ had called, was to tell her John B was dead.
Was it perfect, or horrible timing? No one really knew. She had five days left at Kitty Hawk after she got the call. She needed to be there for her brother, he had lost his best friend and she knew his ways of dealing with these sorts of things weren't very remarkable. Not that she had many better options, her own ways of dealing got her wound up at Kitty Hawk in the first place. So maybe her advice wasn't needed.
JJ pulled the car to a stop, it's breaks squeaking with a high pitched screech. Cassie peered through the front window of the car, waving to Kiara Carerra, and Pope Heyward, who were making their way over to the car, waving back.
The crew looked sad without John B standing there. She hadn't even said a word to them, and already she could feel his absence.
"Kie, Kie—" Pope puts his hand out, stopping the brunette from walking any further. He squints forward, gesturing to Cassie as she gets out of the van. "Is that? Is that Cassie Maybank?" He smiles.
Kiara pushes past Pope so she could be the first to hug her. The girl about knocks Cassie over with the embrace. "Holy shit, man. I feel like It's been ten years." Her voice almost cracks.
Cassie felt a knot grow in her throat, smelling the sea salt in Kiara's curly hair, the sunscreen on her arms. She smiles to Pope over her shoulder, then gestures for him to join in.
She felt the love in their touch, the safety in their arms. Her friends, her only friends. She'd almost forgotten the sound of Kiara's voice, and laughed at the significant drop in Pope's.
When they pulled away, everyone turned to see JJ getting Cassie's suitcase from the back of the car, and she felt her heart drop a little.
He was quiet, trying to seem tough, unbothered, but she knew he was hurting.
"I can get it." Cassie says, walking over to her brother and reaching for the single, plastic suitcase she brought with her a year ago.
When you're woken up in the middle of the night by strangers telling you they're taking you somewhere to get help, and you only get half an hour before you leave, you don't really have much time to pack for a years stay.
"Nah, it's alright." JJ shrugs it off, shutting the car door and pulling her suitcase through the dirt.
Cassie swallows a bit, watching JJ as he walks past them, before returning her focus to Kiara and Pope, who wore her same uneasy expression.
She cleared her throat, trying to keep the morale up for as long as she could, trying to savor every minute of it. She points up to the handmade sign that hung on the house. "Wow, you could've bought that from the party store and I wouldn't have even noticed." She spoke sarcastically, eyeing the suspiciously stained white sheet, that was tattered from moth holes.
"Yeah, we thought if we left your name off of it we could reuse it." Pope says, walking beside her as they followed JJ toward the small house.
"Smart thinking." Cassie says. "Very environmentally friendly of you."
"Kie's been rubbing off on us, I guess." Pope jokes.
"You've gotten so tall." Kiara comments, glancing behind her at Cassie. "Like, model tall." She turns back towards JJ and raises her voice. "Guys, stand back to back I wanna see who's taller."
"Fuck no." JJ snorts, as he begins to hall Cassie's suitcase up the stairs to the front porch.
"Just leave it." Cassie waves it off, "I've gotta take it to—"
"You're not staying here?" JJ asks.
Everyone exchanges glances, tense and unsure. Cassie swallows, "Well— I'll probably stay at my grandma's. For a little bit, and when—" she didn't know what to say, didn't know if she'd upset him. "Well, are you staying at Dad's still?"
Kiara glances at Pope, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.
JJ shrugs. "I don't know. I'm back and fourth. I've been kind of manning the Routledge ship for the past few days."
Cassie nods slowly. "Yeah, yeah. Okay." She puts on a smile. "I'll just— see how everything is, you know?"
JJ and Cassie were half siblings, sharing the same dad. Cassie's mother, Michelle, got pregnant with her six months after JJ's mother, Becky, got pregnant with him. They were born into a messy situation. And it seemed to want to stay that way.
"For sure, yeah." JJ nods, pushing down the handle on Cassie's suitcase and leaving it by the steps. "You hungry?"
She felt the corners of her lips twist into a smile, then nodded.
He started leading the crew to the front yard, where a small bonfire burned in the center of a couple stray lawn chairs. Hot dogs, buns, chocolate, graham crackers, marshmallows, all lined up on the top of a cooler ready to go.
Her eyes trailed over to the dock, the same one she'd dove off a million times before, or, been pushed off, depending on how obnoxious of a mood the boys were in that night. Then she glanced over to the massive oak tree that sat at the edge of the yard. Carved in the trunk was a large heart, and inside the shape, a message that read: '2003-2020. John B Routledge. P4L.'
Her heart sank, and she remembered that she'd never see him again, never hear his voice, never have him drive her to school, or pick her up from work, or push her off that stupid dock ever again. She felt sick. She couldn't believe he was really gone.
Expectedly, everyone seemed like they were walking on eggshells with her. When they were cooking the hot dogs over the fire, no one mentioned John B's name, no one really mentioned any thing of that nature at all. Only asked Cassie about Kitty Hawk.
"Did you make any friends?"
"A few. But most of them left long before I did. Everyone was in and out pretty quick."
"So what did you do every day?"
"Lots of chores, honestly. Which was actually kinda nice. Kept us distracted, I guess. We all did schoolwork together, all ate together, went to therapy together. It really wasn't too bad. Got used to it after a while."
Deep down Cassie knew her time at Kitty Hawk was something she was more than eager to forget. She learned to survive, if anything. Certainly a valuable skill, but she was miserable. And completely alone. Missing out on a year of her life, of her brother's life, of her friend's lives.
Getting JJ's letters on all of the messes they'd gotten themselves into only made it worse. She read them on a six-inch thick cheap plastic mattress, hunched over on the top of a bunk bed, which was too close to the ceiling for her to sit up all the way. Fueled on flavorless food, exhausted from mopping floors and gardening in the heat all day, from going to bed late and waking up early, from spending hours sat in a circle talking about her feelings.
She wanted to be out there with them.
"Was the food good?"
"Disgusting."
"Did you get to swim much?"
"Yeah, sometimes on the weekends they gave us 'days-off', and— we're right off the beach so I usually spent my time there. There's a small library on the campus so I got to read a ton too."
"And... How are you feeling?"
There it was, the question everyone's been so hesitant about. Kiara shoots Pope a look like; seriously? But Cassie shakes her head. "Honestly, I feel really good."
JJ smiles, patting Cassie's back with a little bit too much force than the scrawny girl was used to. "You look good, Cas. Really."
Cassie takes a breath. "I've been good for a while, they just— wanted to really make sure before I went back. I'm ready to get my shit together now." She ended her sentence with a laugh, sending JJ a confident nod.
Cassie was eleven when she first started taking codeine. She was thirteen when she first liked how it made her feel.
What first started as a prescribed medication to help with the pain of a broken collarbone and leg— a result of the drunk-driving incident that killed Cassie's mom— soon turned into a medication that helped with the grief.
Sneaking whatever she could from her grandma's cabinets, taking it from her father's bedside tables. She relished in the feeling, liking the way it cooled her mind down, made the constant knot in her throat go away, even just for a couple hours.
She was fifteen when she first started taking too much. And she was sixteen when she was hauled off to wilderness therapy.
It was the Pogues who realized first she needed help. It had gotten bad, and fast. It wasn't just recreation anymore. It was dangerous.
It was JJ's idea for the wilderness camp, but he'd never tell Cassie that.
He first brought it up to Kiara, Pope, and John B. Telling them that he's worried she's gonna end up accidentally killing herself. Or that she'll get herself into some deep, deep shit.
Pope had suggested buprenorphine. A medication that reduces cravings by activating the same parts of the brain as opioids, but doesn't trigger the same 'high' or side effects. JJ had told him he wasn't sure she even had the health insurance to get all that. He sure didn't.
Kiara's parents had mentioned Kitty Hawk before, an all-girls wilderness camp for 'troubled-teens'. A place where they're monitored, and matched with the right team that will help them recover from all sorts of different situations.
So JJ told Cassie's grandma about it. Who seemed clueless to it all, unsurprisingly. And Cassie's grandma made the call to Kitty Hawk, taking the blame for JJ.
"I'll cheers to that." JJ says, cracking open a beer, then, realizing what he's done, let's out an "Oh, shit."
Cassie realizes his reaction was stemmed from her sitting right beside him. "Chill out." She snorts. "It was opioids not cheap beer."
JJ looks over to Pope hesitantly, who gives him the nod of approval, before taking a swig from the can. He leans forward and passes one to Kiara, then to Pope, then, raising his eyebrows at her to make sure it was really okay, hands one to Cassie.
"To my little sister being back where she belongs—" JJ would always hang that six month difference over her head. "To John B, and to Sarah." He holds the can up, and everyone does the same.
—
Her grandma's house was quiet, besides the sound of the TV in the living room. It was small, two floors, painted a pale yellow on the outside, and was a good mile walk from the beach. Creaking open the front door, which was almost always left unlocked, Cassie inhaled the smell of cigarettes and leftover dinner.
She glanced around, taking in all of the sights she had grown so unaccustomed to. The dated floral wallpaper in the front entry, the tacky fake plants that sat in every corner, the empty bird cage that stood by the stairs, the bird that once inhabited it being long-dead.
Most of the lights were off, despite it being night, and the AC, too. She peaks into the living room, rolling her suitcase onto the wooden floor.
"Grandma?" She speaks, seeing the fake-red hair of her grandma over the couch. Cassie shut the door, then raised her voice slightly. "Grandma?"
Her grandma startled, then turned around in her old leather chair. She took in Cassie, then rose to her feet quickly. "You scared the shit out of me, honey." She says, her arms out ready for an embrace.
Cassie smiled, pulling her in for a hug. "Sorry, the TV was loud. Didn't know if you could hear me."
Her grandma pulled away. "I can't hear shit anymore. You're gonna have to get used to yelling." She nods, then looks Cassie up and down. "Well, Jesus Christ— did they feed you there? You look like skin and bones."
Cassie clenched her jaw, trying to remember how to react to her grandma's absent minded comments. "Yes, yeah. They did."
Her grandma squeezed her forearms. "I've got a dinner in the fridge, for you. If you want it. Just heat it up in the microwave for a minute." She says, then slowly wanders back over to her chair.
And that was the extent of their relationship. Her grandma was someone to feed her, to give her a room, to sign her permission slips, and that was about it. There was love there, maybe, but only the kind you put aside for family members you're expected to love.
On the TV in front of her, she watched the news. John B's picture flashed across the screen. Though he was presumed dead, he was still wanted for the murder of Sheriff Peterkin.
A murder that Cassie was told, he did not commit.
Rafe Cameron did it. He shot her, he killed her.
"We'll go to that funeral, tomorrow morning. Your grandpa worked for the Cameron's for a long time before he died, so— I don't know. Feel like we should." Her grandma said. "Shame about that girl. Did you know her?"
Cassie stood in the archway to the living room, watching the TV, Sarah's picture appearing on screen next. She shook her head no as she spoke. "Not really. Never got a chance to."
Upstairs was Cassie's room, pretty much as she left it. Rarely did she sleep here. Most of her nights were spent at her dad's place, or on John B's couch with the rest of the crew. Or in The Twinkie, or in the midst of a construction zone for a new house on Figure Eight.
None of them really had much of a home when they weren't all together, so when they were, wherever they were, that's where they'd call home for the night.
Though the girl had only been in the crew for a few years, JJ was determined in making up for the ten years Cassie lived in Texas with her mom. So wherever he went, she followed.
There was a single black dress that hung in Cassie's closet. One that she bought for a presentation for a business class her freshman year. It was looser on her now, but she filled it out in the right places much better than she did back then.
The next morning, she went to Sarah Cameron's funeral.
It was strange to be out and about in the OBX again. It was strange to be around so many people mourning. At least a hundred people attended the burial alone. An empty casket.
From what she gathered from JJ's letters, Sarah got herself involved with the Pogues only a few weeks ago. Or more specifically, John B. She'd helped them find this gold they keep talking about.
And It was her father who stole it from them. It was her brother that killed Sheriff Peterkin, and it was her brother that got John B falsely accused. There's no laws against defamation for a dead man.
She didn't know Sarah well, even less so Rafe. But she knew the Cameron's. Everyone did. Their children walked around the island like owned the place because they practically did.
Sarah, at least, tried to be humble. Which was assumedly difficult given the family's wealth. She always seemed fairly kind, she had once even offered Cassie a sober ride home from a party.
Rafe, however, had always seemed very off. He played up this daddy's money persona like he was hiding something else. Which was, knowing things now, apparently a desire to kill someone and blame it on someone else. But he'd always been difficult to read. Cassie prided herself on her ability to understand a person, but she could never grasp Rafe Cameron.
Now, he stood across the way, by the empty casket as it lowers to the ground. Besides Ward and Rose Cameron, behind his littlest sister.
His gaze was focused on the ground, his bottom lip split and dried with blood. Cassie peaked over the crowd to get a better look at him, curious to see how he mourned knowing what he had done.
But he didn't. There was no guilt, no remorse, none that she could see. His hair hung slightly over his eyes, parted down the middle. He was unmoving, his body stoic and still like a statue, and she wasn't sure if he'd even blinked.
She tried to remember if they'd ever spoken. In passing, maybe. She thought maybe he'd made a comment about her to JJ at a party, an attempt to egg him on, but that could have very well been Topper Thornton instead. She couldn't remember.
But he knew who she was. Everyone knew who everyone was. There was no escaping that. So when Cassie disappeared for a year, he noticed. And when she returned, he noticed.
Rafe lifts his head slightly, sniffling, but not from crying, like some sort of anger-fueled response to his environment. He clenched his jaw, eyes darting around the crowd, until he meets eyes with Cassie, who quickly looks away.
She was confident Rafe Cameron was a narcissist, but a killer? She never thought things could get that bad in the OBX. Never thought things would be this different after a year.
She was attending a funeral for a girl she'd barely spoken to, who died trying to help her friends steal away some gold that was rightfully theirs. John B was dead, but somehow still wanted for murder. JJ was pretending to be okay. Rafe was a killer standing free. Kiara and Pope were treating her like she was a porcelain doll.
Cassie had only called The Outerbanks her home for a few years before she left for Kitty Hawk. But she'd grown very accustomed to its ways, to her friend's ways. Never did she think this is what she'd be coming home to.
a/n
phew i'm sorry if this was totally boring. it felt more like a prologue to me but whatever ! had to do some character intros first !! this will pick up soon i promise
but i hope u enjoyed the first chapter
<3
- jane