CHAPTER THREE
FORBIDDEN ZONE
"the hand you wanna
hold is a weapon"
˚✧₊⁎*⁎⁺˳✧༚
FARRAH'S desicion to steer clear of the four pogues went down the drain when the Twinkie pulled up next to her.
John B, Pope and JJ grinned at her when the car fell in pace with her. She walked alongside the road when the three boys ambushed her. Farrah couldn't possibly fathom why the three boys were so damn adamant that she join them. The girl had declined them as intended, but they were a hell of a lot more persistent than initially anticipated by her. If anyone was to question why she once again found herself sitting in the Twinkie next to the boys, she would claim kidnapping. Kiara had been unpleasantly suprised when she herself got into the van to find the girl of her nightmares already there.
She had scoffed loudly, visibly pissed off by Farrah's presence. The Montgomery girl was equally as pissed off, both because of the fact that she was there against her will and because of the Carrera girl. She practically snatched the joint from JJ's lips when he went to light it up. If she was going to get through any part of this evening with these dumbasses, she was going to need a boost. A major one at that.
"Why the hell are we at a graveyard?" Farrah questioned in disgust when the five piled out of the car. By now the sun had set, the only source of light being the flashlights securely in their grips.
"Hey, come on." John B said to Kiara as she lingered behind them, ignoring Farrah's question. The girl rolled her eyes as she hugged her body with her arms.
"I'm coming. This place is scary." Kiara sighed. "John B what are we doing?"
"Shh, shut up!" John B said. "Okay, so you know how you're trying to remember a song, but you can't remember who sings it?"
"Yeah?"
"So, Redfield. This whole time I though it was a place, right? But it's not a place. It's a person." The five halted infront of a large gravestone, John B's latern illuminating the name 'Redfield' engraved at the very top. Farrah glanced around at their eerie surroundings, the only sound being the sound of crickets.
"Voi-effing-la."
"See, my great, great grandmother Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name." John B explained. Farrah glanced at the grave—tomb— whatever the hell it was, unphased. The questioned of why they brought her along gnawed at her, but knowing that she probably wouldn't get an answer anyway, she didn't bother asking. "Help me with the door."
Farrah shook her head, taking a step back. "Looks like you all got that handled." She stated, knowing damn well she wasn't about to risk breaking one of her freshly painted nails for this. She might not have the money for an actual mani pedi, but she had a knack for doing it herself.
"Okay, one two three—" Pope and John B began pushing at the door, but it barely budged. "Are you pushing?"
"Yeah, I'm pushing."
"Come on!"
"Here, I got it." JJ said as he moved to help.
"This door is like seven hundred pounds. It's not gonna budge." Pope groaned.
"We didn't come this far just to get this far, alright?"
A loud hiss caused the three boys to jump back in surprise. A snake shot out from one of the cracks in the tomb, evidently pissed off or whatever it was that snakes got. "Woah woah woah!"
"Look, it's you." Kiara said to Farrah, pointing to the serpent as it slithered away. Farrah rolled her eyes at the weak insult.
"Rather be a snake than a rat."
"Woah— that's a moccasin, alright." JJ stated. "Ye olde Dr. Cottonmouth. Death in tall grass." The blonde pogue suddenly began barking loudly at the animal.
"JJ, shut up! Shut up!"
"You're gonna wake the freaking dead, man!" Pope exclaimed as JJ stopped barking.
"They're afraid of dogs." He defended. "Everyone knows that, man."
"Awh, then we have nothing to worry about with this bitch here." Farrah fired as she threw a look in Kiara's direction.
"Wait wait, hold on." JJ said before Kiara had the chance to snap back. "If there's one, there's probably dozens."
"Can you just stop? You're scaring me, bro." Kiara groaned as JJ began barking again.
John B grabbed JJ by the shoulder. "Stop barking at the snakes."
"I was just making sure it's clear!"
Farrah rolled her eyes at the constant bickering. At this point she was better off getting eaten by snakes.
"Shut up— just shut up." Pope interfered. "John, look. We're not gonna get in there, alright? It's not budging." He pointed out the obvious. "We should probably just go."
"Farrah could get through." The mention of her name caused Farrah to reel around in disbelief. Her eyes fell on Kiara that was shining her flashlight at the tight fitting opening that led to the inside of the tomb. Her jaw fell open when she realised all four of them were staring at her.
"You're delusional if you think I'm ruining this dress by crawling in there. No fucking way. Not happening. You do it." Farrah shook her head. No way was she crawling into a tight space, ruining her dress while risking running into another snake. It was not going to happen.
"You're the smallest one here. It could work." JJ agreed as his eyes traveled up and down her body.
"So? Am I being punished for staying fit?" The girl crossed her arms over her chest. JJ's eyes fell to the necklace dangling above her boobs, the letter 'F' staring back at him. Farrah narrowed her eyes at him when she realized he was staring at her boobs, but before she could call him out on it John B spoke up.
"Please, Farrah. Just do this one thing for us." He begged.
"Why should I? I don't owe you shit."
"Actually, you do. Remember that conversation we had at the boneyard? Yeah, you want me to do you a favor, you're going to have to do me one." John B said.
Farrah was almost flabbergasted at how easily he had defaulted to her in order to get his way, somehow she had just assumed he wouldn't tell anyone about their encounter. Her gaze fell into a withering glare. John B gulped at the murderous look, but still stood his ground. If looks could kill, John B would be dead, cold and burried by now. But alas, looks did not kill. "I hate you guys." She growled as she stepped towards the tomb.
"Yeah, yeah. What else is new."
"Here, I'll give you a boost." JJ volunteered as she went to hoist herself up. His hands gripped her upper thigh, just beneath the butt as he tried pushing her up. His rings felt cold against her bare skin as he steadily lifted her off the ground.
"You have three seconds to remove your hands from my ass, Maybank." The threat caused him to quickly pull his hands back. "What am I looking for?"
"You'll know when you see it." John B answered. She pulled herself over the ledge and into the tomb. Her feet hit the ground softly. Farrah squinted as she tried to make out something— anything, but it was no use without a flashlight.
"Okay, flashlight."
"Here!" Pope tossed the flashlight in, the girl barely managing to catch it.
"You alive? You got, like, a heartbeat and everything?"
The Montgomery ignored the question as she shone the flashlight around herself. She was too preoccupied finding whatever they were looking for so that she could get the hell out of there to bother answering the question. And that's when she saw it. "Oh my god. . ." She reached out to grab the FedEx envelope, handing it over to John B at the other side.
"That's not gold." Pope sighed in disappointment as Farrah began climbing back out.
"A little help would be greatly appreciated." JJ reached his hands out for her to jump. She did just that, his hand firmly placed on her waist to keep her from tumbling to the ground. His hand lingered for just a moment as her feet hit the ground.
"Holy shit." John B looked over at Pope. "This is from my dad." He announced.
Farrah accepted the joint JJ offered to her when the sound of a viechle approaching reached their ears. JJ eyes widened when he spotted the golf cart. "Code red, code red! Square groupers!" He exclaimed.
The five immediately took off running in the opposite direction. "It's the guys who robbed your house!" They crouched down behind the tomb, desperately moving to flicker off the flashlights. JJ struggled to switch the one attached to his head off, so Farrah grabbed the back of his head, tugging him down. She swiftly turned it off before letting go of him. He quickly crouched down next to her. "Homies got a gun."
"Screw this." Kiara scoffed, taking off running.
The four other followed hot in her heels, yelling coming from whoever was approaching. Farrah pumped her legs as hard as she could against the ground as they flew towards the gate. JJ, Kiara and John B were the first ones over, Pope and Farrah climbing after them. The dark haired girl barely managed to land on her feet as she tumbled from the gate. She stopped to see Pope still struggle to get over. "Guys, guys I'm stuck! Help, I'm stuck!"
Farrah immediately began tugging on his legs, his shorts caught on the top of the gate. Kiara grabbed his other leg, tugging just as hard. His shorts ripped loudly when the two girl pulled on him, leaving him in nothing but boxers as they began laughing. Farrah could help the laugh falling from her lips as she witnessed the boy desperately trying to cover himself up all the whilst running.
"It's a little tootsie roll." John B joked as they bolted for the car.
The sound of screeching tires and Farrah's wholehearted laugh floated through the dark night as drove away.
˚✧₊⁎*⁎⁺˳✧༚
"That's literally disgusting."
After heroically ( or hilariously ) jumping the gates of the graveyard and speeding off in the Twinkie, the five teenagers returned to the château. It was apparent that the chât had become some sort of home base for them, a common denominator if you will. The headquarters.
Farrah wouldn't admit it to them, but the adrenaline pumping in her veins had almost been addicting. Not only had Pope ran for his life pant-less, but Farrah actually genuinely laughed— laughed like she hadn't done in a very long time. At the beginning of summer Lance, Millie and Farrah vowed it would be one of their best ones yet. And though she had complete neglected her actual friends these last few days, there was no denying how much fun she was having while simultaneously absolutely loathing it. It was all too confusing.
The question remained as to why any of them even insisted on bringing her along. So far Farrah had gathered the initiator of the entire treasure hunt or whatever this was, was John B himself. He also happened to be the one who kept insisting on bringing the Montgomery girl along. In truth, he wasn't too sure himself why a part of him demanded her presence. Since that night of the hurricane, he saw a side to the otherwise mean girl that he hadn't ever seen before. And he liked it. Dressed head to toe in his clothes made her look so real, so human. Nothing like the plastic doll she usually resembled; not one hair sticking out of place. With her hair a mess and makeup smudged from the heavy rain, she looked so different. This softer look somehow brought out a more genuine side to her. John B never imagined he'd spend an entire night laughing, drinking beer and playing card games with Farrah freaking Montgomery. Yet they still had, and John B found himself wanting to cherish the small yet significant moment they had shared over numerous old stories and lighthearted jokes.
Pope and JJ kept insisting that the Routledge boy had a crush on the girl. At least that's how they were choosing to explain his suggestion of bringing her along. Not that JJ minded. Sure, she was a complete and raging bitch, but she was nice to look at. The Maybank boy had previously shot his shot with Kiara, who adamantly denied him any sort of romance. Why the hell not bring a some hot girl along as a plus one then? Not that he had any chance with her, of course. Pope kept making the joke that neither JJ or John B had a chance with the dark haired beauty, and that both of them were wasting their time if they thought this would win them any points with her.
Kiara was really freaking pissed off that the girl had managed to slither her way into the group. Her group. The two had never really interacted, so Kiara didn't have a reason per say to hate the girl as much as she did. The Carrera girl simply loathed everything Farrah stood for. She was girly evil, her deep closet single handedly knocking the environment off its feet. But her assumptions about the Montgomery girl was just that; assumptions. Not that Kiara knew any of it, but every piece of clothing was either thrifted, flipped or home made by the girl personally. Everything that made her look so god damned perfect she had done herself. Her clothes were sown into perfection by her own hands, the perfectly polished nails she did herself, every intricate hairstyle she wore she did herself. The only reason Farrah Montgomery was Farrah freaking Montgomery, is because she made it a thing. By hard work and dedication, not money and privilege.
Pope, JJ, John B, Kiara and Farrah were all currently back at the château, as previously mentioned. Farrah could still feel the thrill of fleeing the scene of the graveyard rushing through her bloodstream. But she didn't let it show. Instead, she wore a blank and somewhat bored expression, not allowing them to know how much fun she'd really had today. The Montgomery girl had to return to her life of glitz and glamour with her actual friends soon, and when she did, she wouldn't allow these four to think they actually made an impact on her. Especially not Kiara.
"What? A man needs to eat." JJ defended as Farrah stared at him in utter disgust. He was making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a side of moldy bread. She could smell the earthy scent all the way from across the room where she was standing, the whiff of mildew enough to make her gag.
"That bread had mold on it three days ago." Pope announced as he walked past the Maybank boy.
JJ shrugged, slapping the two slices of bread together to form a sandwich. "I'll just pull off the bad parts. Plus, mold is good for you. It's just a natural organism." He explained in a matter of factly tone.
"That's not true." Farrah debunked, her nose scrunched up as she watched him take a bite. He gagged loudly, spitting the chunk back into his hand, resulting in an eyeroll and snort from the Montgomery girl.
John B went to open the FedEx package Farrah had retrieved from inside the tomb, but before he could, Kiara's held her hand out to stop him. John B glanced up at her in confusion, finding her glaring at Farrah uneasily.
"Oh you can't be serious." Farrah groaned in annoyance. "So you don't have a problem with me risking my life climbing into the tomb to get that thing, but you draw the line at opening it infront of me?"
Kiara was skeptical of the girl, and rightfully so. She was a complete and raging bitch who cared about no one but herself. "Yeah thanks for that." Kiara sarcastically said with a fake smile plastered on her lips. "But we've got it from here."
The room fell silence as the two girls held the eye contact, both glaring wildly at the other. John B broke the silence. "C'mon Kie, she helped—"
"No it's okay, John B." Farrah cut him off, holding her hand up. "I'll leave. But the next time you pathetic losers need any help, don't come crawling to me."
"We won't." Kiara shot back.
Farrah turned on her heel and marched out of the chateau. John B shot Kiara a look of annoyance, but quickly moved on to opening the package. None of them bothered protesting to her absence, too preoccupied to find out what the hell was in the package.
Farrah was pretty much fuming by the time she got home. She tried her best to remain quiet as she snuck into the dark house. Hopefully she'd be able to slink into her room without waking her dads. She didn't need them asking questions where she had been. All she wanted was to go to bed and sleep this weird day off.
"A little late, don't you think?" Bryan's voice filled the room as Farrah snuck past the livingroom, staring wide eyed at her dad.
"Dad, you're still up? Why are you sitting by yourself in the dark?" Farrah questioned, shifting on her feet as she looked at him.
"You've been out day— we were worried. You know we don't care if you're out all day, just as long as you let us know where you are and what you're up to." He sighed. The only source of light was the candle lit on the coffee table next to the couch. The power was still out on The Cut.
"I'm sorry, I lost track of time and forgot to shoot you a text." She apologized.
Bryan stood up from his seat on the couch, blowing the candle out before approaching her. He pulled her into a hug, one she gladly accepted. "We just worry about you. Lance came by asking for you. Anything you want to tell me?"
Farrah's eyes widened when she realized she couldn't use Lance as her alibi. The girl wracked her brain for a plausible excuse as to why she had gone out early that morning to bring the Scrubbs woman muffins only to return late at night. "Nope, nothing to share."
Bryan arched an eyebrow at his daughter, but refrained from questioning her any further. Phillip and Bryan believed in gentle parenting, and that if she had something to tell them, she would. They trusted her enough to share the importan parts of her life with them. The mutual respect and trust is what kept their relationship healthy, safe.
"It's late, you should get to bed."
"I will."
With that she disappeared into her small bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her. The event of the day whirled in her mind as she climbed into her bed, sleep taking over.
Hopefully tomorrow wouldn't be as stressful and confusing as today had been.
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Loving Farrah Montgomery was a difficult task; a loosing game.
Few had attempted to love her, like truly love her, and none of them had succeeded. Her love was special: Farrah loved with her entire being, her soul utterly submerged. But holding her hand was like holding a weapon— it was unpredictable and possibly dangerous. Her harsh words like stab wounds to the heart, the only trace of the once special feeling now replaced with a nasty scar. She didn't mean to hurt anyone, she never did. Her love was a curse, her soul soaked in poison, blessed with beauty and rage. Mayhaps she finally met her match in Rafe Cameron.
Rafe Cameron was complicated, almost as complicated as whatever was going on between him and Farrah. The connection shared between them had yet to defined as anything, but it could not be denied. Perhaps it was destined to happen; like polar ends inevitably meeting. Who else was capable of loving someone as damaged as Rafe than Farrah, and who else strong enough to remain at her side than Rafe himself? They weren't dating, that much was clear. But they had an unspoken mutual agreement than neither one of them was allowed to hold another hand or kiss other lips than each others. Maybe they were both equally as possessive of what was theirs, or maybe they just needed someone in that moment. Either way, the world stopped spinning for a moment when their eyes met for the first time.
Both grew up in the same island, they had known about one another for years. But the first times their eyes met, like really met, was six months ago exactly. It was at one of many kook parties at Figured Eight. She looked up, her tawny brown eyes were deeper than any ocean yet she found herself drowning in his cerulean ones. It was like— for the first time ever —someone saw him. Like truly, actually saw him. And she felt the same way.
Rafe and Farrah was like a match made in hell. All the yelling, kissing and fighting quickly became the norm for them, but both insisted to themselves that they weren't limited to the insults they would hurl back and forth, nor the soft kisses planted on places no one could see but them. Farrah knew how hard loving her could really be. It was simple luck that allowed her two dads who loved her unconditionally, and a best friend like Lance.
Sitting across the room from Rafe was like torture. Neither one wanted to go public with whatever was going on between them, both believed it would simply complicate things further. But watching those girls with their arms all around him while he sat surrounded by the drugs splayed out on the glass table in front of him made her see red.
A sly smirk was plastered on his face when his eyes found hers. He knew just how much this would piss her off, which why was he didn't bother pushing the girls aside. Instead he watched her closely, intrigued. His amusement was short lived when she did something unexpected.
Farrah disappeared from his eyes sight and over to the first boy she found. "Kelce, dance with me." The dark skinned boy was helping himself to a beer when she approached him. He looked up in suprise, shocked the Montgomery girl wanted to dance with him. Maybe he would have pieced two and two together if it hadn't been to the haziness provided by the alcohol in his system, but he wasn't about to turn the girl down.
She grabbed a hold of his hand, leading him over to the crowd of people moving to the sound of the music. Her eyes found Rafe's as she placed Kelce's hands firmly on her hips. She knew it would set him off, the same way he had ticked her off. Even more so considering Kelce and Rafe were friends. And she was right. When his eyes fell on the hands firmly clenching her hips, her body moving with his, Rafe clicked his jaw in rage. He could feel the anger burn as it ran like kerosene through his bloodstreams.
But he wasn't about to back down. So, he placed his hand on the girl next to him, his hand caressing her exposed upper thigh. Farrah wasn't dumb. His hand on the girl's thigh meant that he was fighting back. It only fuelled her more, causing her to grab a hold of Kelce's neck to bring her lips to his ear.
"It's so hot in here, let's cool down."
Rafe's eyes stayed glued to the girl as she began making her way outside, discarding layers of clothes carelessly behind her. The alcohol was definitely to blame for her boldness. Had she been sober, she would have settled for an eyeroll and left Rafe to his drugs and girls. In her hazy state of mind only one thing was on her mind; she was getting back at the Cameron boy.
Okay, so maybe keeping their relationship secret was more his idea than hers. Quite frankly, it bothered her tremendously. It was very obvious he wanted to keep it lowkey because he was embarrassed of her living situation. No matter how much of a kook she looked like, she would always be a pogue. And no matter how many times he said he didn't care, it was evident that he did. Farrah had agreed to it for two reasons, and two reasons only. Number one, Lance had long ago made the claim that anyone capable of hooking up with the eldest Cameron sibling had to either have zero self respect or had to hate themselves. And though he already knew of her relations with Rafe, Farrah was not about to be judge by Millie of all people, or anyone else for that matter, for hooking up the Cameron boy. And number two, she didn't want him to think she cared enough about him that she wanted them to go official. She was stupid like that, her ego too big to allow him to know that she cared.
The trail of crumbs was left behind the girl like breadcrumbs, leading up all the way to the pool until she was left in nothing but a black bikini. She stepped into the water, letting the cool feeling hug her as she got in deep. If Rafe didn't want anyone to know they were hooking up because he was ashamed of her, she was going to show him she was nothing to ashamed off. In fact, she was to be desired, cherished. Farrah Montgomery was the kind of girl one flaunted, not the kind of girl to be hidden. Kelce tore off his Hawaiian shirt as he followed after her. He went to jump into the pool when a harsh hand pulled him back.
Rafe was fuming when he pulled his friend out of the way. His glare burned into her skin so harshly that she didn't even need to turn around to note his presence. A smirk fell on her lips as she noticed the attention she had harboured, eyes glued to her wet skin.
"Farrah, get out of the pool."
His tone was low and demanding. Rafe was clearly fed up with their games, but Farrah wasn't down quite yet.
"Awh, don't be such a bore, Rafe. I'm just having a good time." She chuckled as she finally turned to face him. Her arms were folded in front of her at the edge of the pool while she stared up at him through her eyelashes.
"I'm not going to tell you again, Farrah." His voice was threatening. Anyone else would have had the senses to actually be intimated by him, but she wasn't.
"What does a girl have to do to get some company?" She questioned loudly, gaining the attention of several boys.
"That's it."
His hand wrapped around her upper arm and with one swift motion he hauled her out of the pool. A gasp fell from her lips at the tight grip he had on her, but he ignored her protest as he began dragging her inside. People watched as the soaking wet girl got dragged across the living room and thrown into the first room available. Rafe slammed the door shut before aggressively pinning her against it.
"What the fuck was that, huh?" He yelled, glaring wildly at the dark haired girl.
She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from her chest. "What happened to keeping things lowkey, Rafe?" She laughed, obviously seeing the humour in it.
He did not.
"Oh, you think that shit was funny?" Rage burned in his eyes as he yelled at the girl.
"Yeah, actually I do." She admitted.
Her laughter, however, died down the second his fingers wrapped around her neck, pressing painfully on her windpipe. Her hand flew up, clenching his wrist in an attempt to pull him off, but he was too strong. The look in his once bright eyes had darkened, replaced by something much, much scarier. She barely recognised him as she stared back at him.
"Don't ever fucking do that again, bitch." He demanded before pulling his arm away from her neck. She fell to the floor clenching her neck as she gasped for air. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at the Cameron boy.
His eyes were a darker shade of blue, red rimmed to the point she realised he was not only drunk, but high. He sniffled, wiping his nose instinctively as her eyes fell on it. That's when she realised; he was high as a fucking kite on cocaine. A dry, humourless laughter filled the room, causing him to look down at her in confusion.
"If you ever put a hand on me again, I'll fucking stab you." She threatened as she got to her feet. "Give me a call when you're done being a piece of shit coke head."
Farrah left the room before he had the chance to protest. The door slammed shut behind her as she made a beeline through the house, collecting her clothes before bolting out the door. But not before snatching a fancy looking bottle of tequila, a little sombrero decorating the top.
By the time she reached the road and headed homewards, she had tugged on her short skirt and top, the latter soaked to the point of being see-through. Her hand brought the bottle of liquor to her lips, chugging to the point she winced from the burning sensation. The girl probably looked pathetic walking down the side of the road like that, drunk and alone. She couldn't find it in herself to care. The only thing on her mind was getting home. As soon as she did that, she would pass out and hopefully not wake up again till end of summer.
By chance encounter the familiar brown van whizzed past her after she had reached the south side of town. When his eyes landed on her, the Twinkie braked hastily, coming to a halt. "Farrah?" His voice called out for the drunken girl. Her head reeled in his direction as she desperately tried to see who had called out for her. She squinted in attempt to make out his face, a frown growing when she realised who it was.
"Leave me alone, Maybank."
Had it been anyone else, JJ would have listened. He would have left her to walk all the way home by herself. The boy cursed under his breath when he saw the state the girl was in. She was too drunk to possible make her way all the way home safely. He couldn't leave her to her drunken self. So he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car.
"Farrah, wait up. What's going on?" He called out to her.
"Isn't it obvious? I've been to a party, I'm partying." She waved the bottle of tequila in the air before taking yet another swing. JJ reached forward and pulled it out of her hand. "Hey! Give that back."
"I think you've had enough." He sighed, holding the bottle out of her reach.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "You're not the boss of me."
"I am tonight. I'm taking you home." He decided. Farrah opened her mouth to protest, but before she could he hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her to the car. She climbed into the passenger seat begrudgingly, arms crossed like a child with a pout on her lips. The blonde leaned over to buckle her seatbelt, the scent of cheap cologne, weed and salt water reaching her nostrils. "Let's get you home then." JJ went to close the door but her hands shot out to grab onto his arm.
"Please don't take me home." She rushed out, her words slurred. Confusion fell over the boy at her request. "I just don't want to face my dads and explain to them why you're driving me home drunk off my ass and soaked." She explained. That, and because she didn't want to be alone. She refrained from mentioning the last part.
And so he agreed, taking her to the one place he knew to. Fortunately the three others were elsewhere, so he drove them to the château and helped the drunk girl inside. He made sure to leave the bottle of tequila behind. She fell back on the bed as soon as they entered the room ( JJ crashed enough at the chât that he had his own room there ). Her eyes were droopy, giving away the fact that she was about to fall asleep.
"Hey, hey, hey. Don't fall asleep— you need to change out of these wet clothes." JJ instructed, tugging off his own shirt to offer to her. The dark haired girl groaned in exhaustion as she accepted the shirt, carelessly pulling off her wet one and pulling on the one he had offered her. Then, she pulled the bikini top off from underneath the shirt, tossing it aside mindlessly. JJ had made sure to turn around to give her some privacy.
"I need to text my dad that I'm staying at Lance's." She mumbled, pulling the device out. She squinted while holding the phone close to her face in an attempt to form a coherent sentence. JJ rolled his eyes when he watched her write and delete the same sentence over and over. He snatched the phone from her phone. "Hey, give that back!"
"Hey dad, crashing at Lance's tonight. I'll be home tomorrow. And send." JJ read out loud as he sent the text, placing her phone on the nightstand. "You're gonna be fine on your own?" He questioned. He would hate for her to throw up on the bed.
"I'll be fine." She nodded. "Where will you sleep?" Her tone was soft compared to her usual self. It took JJ by surprise.
"I'll just crash on the couch or something." He shrugged.
"You can stay here. I don't mind." She spoke after a moment of silence. His eyes widened at her suggestion.
"I don't know—"
"We can share a bed without fucking. Don't cream your pants, Maybank." She rolled her eyes, her usual tone of voice back. "Just stay on your side."
JJ debated his options as he watched her shuffle to the opposite end of the bed. After a few moments he gave in with a sigh, climbing into the other side of the bed.
The sound of the waves lapping against the shore alongside her soft snores lulled him to sleep, unable to shake how odd this entire ordeal really was. . .
word count; 5886
a/n
wii, so excited for this chapter to be read by you guys! have been having the best time writing this chapter, and really hope you guys enjoyed it as well ! this book is currently really helping me through some writers block. these last few chapters have been pre written which is why my updating schedule is on point. i have a horrible habit of sporadically writing and posting chapters, so hopefully this'll help me get chapters out more routinely ! see you at chapter four !
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