039
michael and his best girl
The jingle of keys and soft laughter was what made Bianca hesitate.
The noise startled her, causing the lighter to slip from her hand and clatter to the whiskey-soaked desk below. A gasp fell from her lips as she noticed, through blurry eyes, that the flame had died after she let go.
Bianca stared at the lighter while her racing heart began to slow. The laughter was louder now, from downstairs, like they were attempting to be quiet but failing. She could recognize her mother's footsteps padding up the staircase, signaling her and Reginald's return from the party.
Bianca's chest heaved with shallow breaths, unable to tear her gaze away from the lighter. The smell of whiskey made her swallow thickly, surrounded by the mess she made. Her hands still trembled, thinking back to what she almost did.
Bianca blinked slowly, unsure how long she stood there for. It could've been a few minutes, or maybe a couple of hours, she didn't know. Only that by the time she regained feeling in her legs, her cheeks were dry and the house had gone silent again.
Bianca stepped back, trying not to dwell on the mess she created, and instead, tip-toed toward the door again. Her steps were soft, carefully avoiding the glass shards and memories broken across the ground.
But there was one she could not avoid— the fractured frame of her and her father. Bianca crouched down to pick it up, brushing away the glass fragments. It was beyond repair but the picture itself remained untouched.
Bianca's throat tightened. Slowly, she slipped the picture out from the broken frame and folded it into the palm of her hand. Then, she stood up again and stepped toward the doorway.
Bianca clicked her father's office door shut, closing off the destruction she caused from the rest of the world. Each step back downstairs felt heavier than the last as if anchored down by lead.
By the time she passed her mother's bedroom door, the weight had gotten too much to bear. She couldn't shoulder it any longer. Even more so, she couldn't stand the thought of her mother hating her more than she hated herself.
Bianca brought her hand up to knock against the bedroom door before her mind could tell her to keep walking. Whether it be the alcohol or the exhaustion, she wasn't thinking straight. She just needed her mom.
A soft 'come in' was the final push for Bianca to twist the door knob and step inside, "Sorry," She mumbled, trying to peer through the darkness. "Did I wake you?"
Lydia cleared her throat, reaching over to flick on her bedside lamp, "No. No, I was awake," The room lit up in an amber hue. "Bianca, have you been drinking? I can smell it from here."
"Sorry," Bianca sniffled, the picture still tightly folded in her hand.
Only when Lydia's eyes finally adjusted to the light did she notice her daughter's bloodshot eyes and disheveled clothes. The sight made whatever motherly instinct was left in her to kick in, "Oh, baby," She shuffled over on the bed, lifting the blanket. "Come here."
Bianca hesitated, watching her mother sit up on the headboard, and wondered if this was some kind of trap. But the ache in her heart outweighed those thoughts and she slowly stepped toward the bed.
Lydia shifted over onto the side of the bed her husband used to sleep on and allowed Bianca refuge beneath the blanket. Her arms wrapped around her daughter's shoulders, drawing the girl closer. With everything going on, she neglected the one person who needed her the most.
The two remained in silence for a few beats, only broken by the younger girl's occasional sniffles. Lydia knew, that if it weren't for the alcohol wafting off of her pajamas, Bianca wouldn't be here at all.
"Today was hard," Lydia acknowledged, nodding to herself.
"Hm?" Bianca leaned her head against the woman's shoulder.
"Watching Mike and Anna," She needed her daughter to know she wasn't alone in her feelings.
"I'm sorry," Bianca began immediately.
"Don't be sorry," She shook her head. "Your father and I got married so young. And we were so naive. We wouldn't have made it to fifteen anyway. Besides, that man... He wasn't the one I married."
Bianca pursed her lips, "Did you cry for him?"
"No," Lydia let out a sigh. "The man I loved died years ago. I cried when I mourned the death of my marriage but I'm through shedding tears for him."
Bianca stared at a loose thread in the comforter, her chest tight, "Do you hate me?" She tried to keep her voice steady but it broke anyway.
Lydia's eyebrows drew together, "Hate you? Is that what you think I've been doing?"
Bianca shrugged a shoulder, "I mean... I'm the reason he's dead."
"Baby, I could never hate you," Lydia's tone turned stern, forcing the girl to glance up at her. "I- I just needed a second to process everything and- and figure out how to get you out of this mess."
"But how can you forgive me?" Bianca inhaled sharply, squeezing her eyes shut. She thought she was all out of tears, "After what I did-"
"Because I spoke to Ward and he apologized for Rafe's part in it all... You have to understand, it wasn't your fault, Bianca," Lydia tightened her arms around the girl. "Okay? Ward, he gave me the CCTV footage, the only copy-"
"You watched it?" Bianca's eyes widened.
"No, I destroyed it but even so, I didn't need to. Do you know why?" Her stare was sharp. It left no room for argument, "Because I know you. And I know you would never do something like that on purpose or- or unless you had to."
Bianca's chest rose and fell with shallow breaths at her words. She didn't know what to make of them— Ward didn't trust her with the footage. But he trusted her mother. And Lydia didn't hesitate to get rid of it. All of them were protecting her. Every single one of them.
"You're just a child. None of this is your fault, do you hear me?" Lydia's voice grew firmer. "Your father and I didn't always get along about everything but on this? We would. I knew him better than anyone else and he would never want you to believe this was you because it wasn't. It was an accident. A tragic, terrible accident that couldn't be helped."
Bianca gave a timid nod, although she didn't believe her. It would be a while till she believed it wasn't her fault or if she ever would. Even if her mother didn't blame her, some part of Bianca would always blame herself.
"You know..." Lydia shifted, placing her chin on the girl's head. "After everything, I sort of suspected. I knew there was only a matter of time before he went 'missing.' Your father was a very powerful man with equally as powerful enemies. When I heard he disappeared too, I thought 'What if Bianca was the one who finally did it?' His favorite girl."
Bianca's eyebrows drew together, "What do you mean?"
A bittersweet smile formed on Lydia's face, "I don't like admitting it but sometimes... sometimes, I was a little jealous of you two."
"What?"
"I mean, the relationship you two had," Lydia hummed, reminiscing to when they were younger and her only daughter would get starry-eyed every time her father would return from a business trip. "I always knew he loved you more than he loved me. It was always Michael and his best girl. I was just afraid that the same was true with you... that you loved him more than you loved me."
"No," Bianca shook her head. "After all he did, Daddy infuriated me. I hated him so much. Even when- when he was-" She choked on her breath, burying her head further into the woman. "I didn't forgive him, Mom. He was apologizing, saying how sorry he was and I- I didn't get to tell him- I didn't even-"
"Baby, he knew," Lydia whispered, shushing her. She kissed the crown of her daughter's head, "He knew."
Lydia held her, all the while, even as she cried herself to sleep. She whispered nothing but soft reassurances and promises that they were going to be a family again. A happy one. Like the ones they saw in commercials. Or at the very least, they'd try.
That night, Bianca fell asleep wrapped in her mother's arms. Exhausted, but not alone.
Bianca thought she had nothing left but that was far from the truth. There were so many people on her side, she could see that now. People who loved her. The truth was, she had a long way to go before she had nothing left.
Bianca was reminded of that once again when her grandparents arrived in the early hours of the morning to go to church. So, she didn't complain, allowing herself to have a moment of reprieve from the guilt wracking her mind.
For once, Bianca felt like she could breathe. It gave her a second to think. Of everything.
Of how long it had been since she spoke to Pope. Of John B's violent outburst yesterday. Of what was going to happen with Topper, Sarah, and even Kiara. She knew the Carrera's were bound to be furious after what was supposed to be a momentous occasion was ruined for some petty high school drama. Not only that but Big John was still missing, Singh having whisked him off somewhere in South America.
Bianca's list was growing longer by the minute. When she wasn't so wrapped up in her drama, everyone else's seemed to take up the forefront of her mind. So, she decided to busy herself with another list.
A grocery list.
Bianca's muscles grew sore the longer she held the paper bags in her arms. She kicked the car door closed, refusing to make two trips back to Reginald's Rolls Royce. Instead, she peered over the bags as she fiddled with the car keys.
After finally locking the car doors, she headed toward the Chateau, half expecting John B and JJ to come out. But as she trekked up the porch steps, she quickly realized no one was coming to help her because no one was home.
"John B?" Bianca called, pushing the door open with the toe of her shoe and almost tripping over an empty beer can in the process. "JJ?"
She was met with nothing but the echoes of her voice reverberating off the wooden halls. Bianca blew the hair out of her face and dumped the brown paper bags on the kitchen island. Then, she got to work with restocking the pantry.
Bianca bought a mixture of easy-to-make, microwaveable food, and actual ingredients, promising herself she'd cook for the boys one day. She stuck to non-perishables, considering the Pogues tended to be gone for days at a time. It would be wasteful to have moldy bread, curdled milk, and rotting fruits when she opened the fridge again.
Bianca just refilled the cabinet under the bathroom with soaps, shampoo, and other essentials when she heard tires screech to a halt outside. With a sigh, she stood up, glad the boys were finally back so they could talk about what the hell happened yesterday and their game plan for South America.
But when Bianca stepped onto the front porch, her eyebrows drew together, "Kie? Cleo?"
"Hey, girl," Cleo nodded, closing the passenger side door of Heyward's truck. "Good. You're here."
"B!" Kiara exhaled in relief, jogging up to the porch steps. "Thank God. Where's John B?"
"Uh, not here," Bianca hugged her friend briefly. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Pope get out of the truck but made no move to greet her, "Why?"
"Shit," Cleo threw her head back, joining the two girls. "It's about El Dorado. We found something. Something that could find Big John."
"Well, he's probably trying to figure out a way to help his dad," Bianca's frown deepened. "I haven't heard from JJ since last night either."
"Do you think the cops already found him?" Kiara's widened eyes snapped over to Cleo.
"The cops?" Bianca gaped.
"They've got a warrant out for him," Kiara explained in a rushed breath. "Topper's pressing charges."
"Wait, what?!"
"I mean, like, even after he was down, John B was still hitting him," Kiara's eyes flickered to Cleo, considering she wasn't there last night. "I've never seen him like that. I actually think he's gonna get arrested."
"No, he can't get arrested," Bianca shook her head. "Not now. If he's locked up, he can't help his dad."
"I know- I know," Kiara wiped her sweaty palms on her denim shorts before wringing them in front of her. "I dropped Sarah off this morning- she's going to meet Topper and his mom at the station right now. She told them she'd testify but I think she's going to try and buy us some time-"
"You don't think this plan could make things worse?" Pope deadpanned from the bottom of the porch steps, his hands shoved into his pockets. It was the first thing he said since they arrived.
"It's going to make things a million times worse," Bianca interjected. "You guys haven't met Cynthia. She's like, the definition of a helicopter parent, and Topper's ego is too big to let it go."
"Well hopefully, we'll be halfway to South America by then. Look, Sarah's handling it," Kiara blew out a breath. "She just said to wait for them at the Chateau."
Bianca ran a hand over her face in exasperation, "Fine. Okay, so what's this thing that's going to help find Big John?"
"Right- yeah," Cleo breathed out, nudging the curly-haired girl. "Go on- show 'er."
Kiara whipped out her phone and scrolled through it briefly before turning it to face Bianca. On it was a picture of a framed artwork depicting a man with an explorer's hat, kneeling in a forest while staring at a city of gold. Beside him was a stone piece marked in glyphs, one that looked eerily similar to what John B described he and Big John brought back from Barbados.
"This is a picture of a painting I took at Singh's," Kiara zoomed in.
"Pope- give it here," Cleo ordered, causing the boy to roll his eyes but pull out a piece of paper from his back pocket and make his way up the steps. When he handed it over, the girl resumed her explanation, "And this is a letter Denmark Tanny wrote to his daughter. We found it last night. Family heirlooms and thingums."
Cleo's eyes flickered to Pope briefly, sharing a small smile with him. Kiara watched them, her heart swelling. After everything he'd been through, he deserved to be happy.
"We think we found a connection to the idol. Look, check this out," Cleo pointed to the small drawing along the old piece of paper while Kiara put the phone side-by-side. "See the king sun glyph here? It matches the one in the painting at Singh's house."
Bianca's nose wrinkled, "Couldn't that just mean it's pretty common?"
"Actually, no," Kiara interrupted. "These glyphs are Kalinago, which has never been deciphered."
"Never?" Bianca glanced over at Pope, waiting for him to take over. But he never did.
Instead, Kiara and Cleo chimed in at the same time, "Never ever."
"See, this is the sun, and that's the glyph for sun," Cleo pointed out. "And this is gold. And that's the glyph for gold but it's not like a dictionary. Don't you get the feeling, like, if you were to put this together in the right order it'd mean something specific? This man had one opportunity to send a letter to his daughter, and he sends this mishmash? T'ink about it. A translation of Kalinago? There must've been a reason."
"It's inheritance," Bianca's lips parted in awe. "He wanted her to find El Dorado."
Cleo nodded frantically, "Some people believe that the captain of the San Jose actually found somebody who knew how to translate these glyphs because he found El Dorado."
"The priest that talked to Denmark Tanny that was on the Royal Merchant," Bianca's frown deepened as she took the letter from her hands.
"Exactly!" Kiara burst, practically bouncing on the heels of her foot. "Every glyph that is in this letter is in the artifact," She swiped through her phone again to reveal a photo of the idol Big John had. "This isn't just some random Rosetta Stone for Kalinago. This... this is a direct translation key for the idol."
"And we can use this to save Big John," Cleo grinned. "Right, Pope? ...Pope?"
"Yeah," Pope muttered, brushing past the girls to head inside the Chateau. "Sure."
"Pope, is everything alright?" Bianca whirled around to face him when he reached the doorway.
"I wouldn't if I were you," Cleo whistled under her breath.
"Cleo said he's going through something right now," Kiara ducked her head down to whisper. "Ever since he found out the cross was melted down he quit school and everything-"
"What? Pope- you dropped out of school?" Bianca's blurted out before she could stop herself. Ever since she met him, all he aspired to be was a coroner and it was her who encouraged him even when he didn't believe in himself, "You can't do that-"
"Save it. I didn't drop out of school," The muscle in Pope's jaw ticked, glancing over his shoulder. "Not that you would care."
Bianca reared her head back, "What?"
"I mean, I don't blame you," Pope turned around to face her and cocked his head to the side mockingly. "All that sneaking around with Rafe- I'd be surprised if you even still knew anything about our lives."
Bianca's heart wrenched behind her ribs, taking a step back as if his words had physically hurt her. Which, they kind of did.
Pope, her best friend and in some instances, her brother, had never spoken to her this way before. She didn't even register the fact that he knew she'd been meeting with Rafe.
Bianca's eyes flickered to Kiara and Cleo who was watching wearily, "What are you- talking about?"
"I'm talking about you going behind all of our backs," The boy's eyes narrowed into a glare. "I'm talking about you lying to our faces!"
"Pope!" Cleo warned, stepping forward.
"No, B-" Pope's chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. His eyes were clouded over, "Were you even going to tell me you knew about the cross? That Rafe melted it down?!"
Bianca struggled to form words, "I forgot, I'm sorry, I-"
"You forgot?" Pope threw his arms up in exasperation. "My family relic- the thing we've been chasing after for so long, you forgot?"
Bianca stepped forward, ignoring the way her stomach twisted at his taunting words, "Yes, and I'm sorry-"
"No, you know what, B? I don't want to hear it," He lifted his hand between him to stop her. His lips curled into a sneer, "I trusted you. I thought you were on our side- the good side!"
"No one's switching sides, Pope!" Kiara's eyebrows furrowed. She didn't know what the boy saw but she didn't like hearing him speak to their best friend like that.
"Well, that's what it feels like," Pope chuckled humourlessly. "Tell me, does JJ know you've been seeing Rafe behind his back?"
"Excuse me?" Bianca scoffed harshly. She knew what he was accusing her of and she didn't appreciate it.
"Does. He. Know?" Pope demanded again, muscles bunched up beneath his orange t-shirt. Each word was punctuated by fury.
"He does," Bianca's nails dug into the palms of her hands.
"Right. Sure, you're telling me JJ knows about your little late-night visits with Rafe on the Cat?" He snorted. "And he's okay with it?"
"Pope, you have no idea what you're talking about," Bianca tried desperately to keep the waver out of her voice. She had never fought with him like this before.
"I saw you, Bianca!" Pope stepped forward this time, gritting his teeth. "Cleo and I both saw you-"
"I would never do that to JJ," Bianca crossed her arms over her chest, her voice low.
"Then tell me! Tell me why you're having secret rendezvous with the guy who melted down the cross- my family's cross!" Pope ground out, his glare set. "The guy who tried to kill Kie- and Sarah and who actually killed Peterkin! Who terrorized us time and time again because I'm just trying to understand why you didn't come to me! I-" He corrected himself and his voice fell short. "We have always been there for you, B. Just tell me why."
Bianca's throat was too tight to speak, her skin growing hotter and hotter by the second. She could feel the girl's gazes on her, waiting for an answer or some kind of explanation but she couldn't give it to them. Not like this.
Bianca pursed her lips, staring down at her feet. She couldn't look them in the eyes. Not when she lied to them for so long. When all they ever showed her was kindness.
Pope seemed to realize she wasn't going to say more because he let out another mocking scoff, "Then I have nothing left to say to you," He turned back to go inside. "Let me know when you're ready to finally tell the truth, Bianca."
The moment the front door slammed shut behind him, a deafening silence encompassed the girls. Bianca shifted on her feet, electricity singeing her skin, begging her to run out of there.
"B..." Kiara trailed off. Although, she too kind of wanted an explanation for her friend's strange behavior.
"It's fine," Bianca dismissed quickly, taking a step down the porch steps. "I'm just- I'll be in the surf shack if you guys need me-"
"B, wait-" Cleo tried but she was already walking away from them.
author's note. fun fact, as a daughter i hate lydia so much but as a writer i am forced to give her character development. she's the kind of parent who you're always walking on eggshells around bc u can't tell if they're going to scream at you or ask you how ur day was and its traumatising lol. anywayz, i hope all of you are doing soso great! also what do we think about pope's little outburst?? i love you all so much and pleasee lmk what you though of this chapter, it makes my week!! <3333 cyu guys!