━ 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁.
𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 I was going, but I didn't stop.
With the compass in hand, I ran as fast as I could, in the first direction possible. The wind was blowing through my hair with every movement, the sun blazed down and poured over my skin, causing drips of sweat to slip down my cheeks, and my shoes pounded so hard on the ground that clouds of dust from the gravel followed behind me. I didn't know how I was going so fast.
When the cop car pulled up, I thought, immediately that we were busted, that my grandparents would be called, and I would inevitably get sent back to New York and never see any of those teenagers again. But as I ran and ran, farther and farther, not looking back, the cop didn't seem to noticed I was even there.
The farther I got, the heavier my breathing became. I ran away from the lighthouse in a speed I didn't know I had, through the trees, and on long deserted roads. I had no clue where I was, until the big beach houses were visible in the distance over the tops of everything, which gave me a reassurance. By the time my stomach was aching with cramps, I figured it was far enough— my legs paining with exhaustion, and my heart rate dangerously high.
I immediately found myself on the richer side of the island, or Figure Eight, as John B had said it. My face was as red as a fresh tomato, partially from the running, but mostly in embarrassment from the stares I was getting from the rich people as I walked by myself along the perfectly paved streets. Feeling the burning sensation in my cheeks, along with my body full of sweat and my clothes full of dirt, I looked like a circus clown in their perfect town of sweater vests and expensive cars.
The older women looked at my rosy face, then to my hair tangled in untameable knots, and finally down to my clothes which cried of pity and my white shoes stained with spots of brown. The teenage girls did the same, but adding quiet snickers when I passed small groups of them. We were wearing the same clothes, our jewelry generally the same, but unlike them, I was covered with dirty spots from sitting on the ground and crawling in the chicken coop.
The boys my age stared at me weirdly, as if I had three eyes. They were wearing buttoned-up collared shirts— and contrasting from John B who wore his completely open, theirs were fully done with each button, right up to their necks. I was beginning to see the differences— more than what John B had told me on the beach. None of the men were really wearing baseball caps like I see Daryl wearing, unable to because their hair was perfectly slicked back and combed to perfection.
I was simply walking along the sidewalks, trying to smile at those I passed, and ended up walking for many long minutes, pretending to others and myself that I had a destination. The small boutiques slowly disappeared. I wandered.
Then suddenly, a sweet voice called out, "Hey, Charlotte!"
Hearing the name, I turned my head to the side to lay eyes on Kook Princess, pulling her car up to the sidewalk next to me. Her Range Rover stopped smoothly on the side of the road at the same time I stopped walking, her window still rolling down.
I didn't want to talk to her, or for her to even look at me. I was talking to the richest girl on the island, as John B had said it, and I looked like a fat tomato wearing stained clothing, who was out of breath and panting like a dog.
"Hi," was all I said, forcing a smile back.
"What are you doing here," she spoke, as she propped her elbow on the rim of her car window, adjusting the glasses that rested on the top of her head. Her plump lips turned up into a soft smile.
"Oh, you know," I laughed awkwardly, folding my hands together in front of my stomach, "Just taking a stroll, seeing more of the island," I smiled a tight smile.
"Here, hop in and I'll drive you," she said casually, as she turned her head away and clicked on a button, unlocking the doors.
"No, it's okay," I put my hand out delicately, indicating a metaphorical stop sign. "I'm already heading gonna head home anyways."
"It's, like, a hundred degrees out," she laughed softly, looking at me in a joking way. "I'll drive you home,"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," I lied. My cheeks were so warm that it hurt to speak.
"Come on, it'll be my way of apologizing for, you know," she laughed again, referring to when her and her boyfriend nearly ran me over.
I thought to myself for a second, taking into consideration my tired legs, cramping stomach, and overheated-body. I didn't want to ruin her perfect seats with my dirty clothes, or get sweat on them, but she looked like she didn't mind. I was scared to tell her where I lived, but experiencing a little bit more of embarrassment, was worth getting to sit in an air-conditioned car and away from the heat.
"Okay," I agreed, nodding slowly and stepping off the sidewalk. The sun burned on my bare shoulders as I walked around the front of her car, while she watched me mindlessly from her spot.
I pulled open the heavy door, instantly hit with a breeze of cold air. She was smiling at me as I slid myself onto the seat of the large vehicle, feeling my legs relax from its comfortable cushion, and my body cooling off in the cold air. Right after I closed the door with a slight thud, she rolled up her window to keep the breeze inside, and pressed down on the gas. Sarah drove peacefully, unlike the Pogues who were used to swerving around street corners. She didn't comment about my dirty clothes or my slightly foul smell.
"So, where do live, Charlotte?" Sarah asked calmly, while driving slowly down the road.
I swallowed, "Off Kingsley street," I said, a little bit quieter than expected. "My grandparents are Caroline and Daryl Collins, if that helps," I didn't know why I told her.
I figured that she was so rich that she didn't bother with people, especially people like my grandparents, who live on the tougher side of the island. But, when she spoke, I was corrected.
"Oh yeah, my dad knows them, I think," she smiled over at me, "they own that motel off the marsh, right? I pass it all the time on the boat," she said, quite normally.
"Yeah," I laughed lightly, glancing over at her for only a moment.
She was wearing a white tube top, same as me, and yellow shorts. We were dressed the almost same, had the same style, except my clothes were covered with dirt, unlike hers. I then realized what John B and his friends meant by, "she looks like a Kook" when they'd been talking about me.
"How come I've never seen you on the island before," she asked, still driving slow, "Im pretty sure your grandparents have lived here for ages."
"It's my first time visiting," I said quietly, adding a small laugh.
"Oh," she realized, a smile growing on her face, "how do you like it so far?"
"It's cool," I said genuinely, nodding a bit.
"Where are you from?" She questioned casually, glancing over at me once.
The car turned on a street, and I looked to the side to see the big houses over the tops of the trees. The radio was playing softly in the background, and the cool air drifted through my hair.
"New York," I said, suddenly becoming more comfortable. I don't know why I was so nervous to talk to her, she was perfectly fine and seemed to have no problem with the fact I lived on The Cut.
"That's so cool," she smiled a genuine smile, "I've never been."
"It's a lot different from this," I laughed gently, talking about the island. "Way different."
I placed my hand along the side of the door next to me, tracing my hand over the soft leather. I looked out the window, enjoying the view of all the houses over the trees. As I stared out, we stopped at an intersection, which was weirdly recognizable, causing my eyebrows to narrowed as I stared out. The traffic lights still weren't working, and when I looked up to them, I knew where we were.
I looked at the spot where I had fallen off my bike, which was on the opposite side of the road. I thought about how Sarah and her boyfriend came up to me, and then an idea suddenly popped into my head right as the car began to drive again, causing me to look over at her.
"Sarah," I started, sort of shyly.
"Yeah?" She turned her head to me, a tiny smile on her lips.
"Remember what you told me on the beach?" I asked, slightly turning my body to face her better, "You know— about a tour of the island?"
She smiled brightly, knowing what I was referring to, "Yeah, I remember," she laughed a little bit.
"Can we maybe," I spoke slowly, "do that now— only if you have time. My grandparents aren't home until later and I sort of don't wanna go home." My voice was quiet, and sounded timid.
"Of course," she laughed to herself, gripping both hands on the wheel. "Where do you wanna start?"
"Anywhere," I chuckled, not having any idea on where to go to first.
"I'll drive by TannyHill," she said, "we could go up there and then around to the docks, maybe?"
"Yeah, sure." I nodded, agreeing.
She smiled once more, before turning the car onto a different road. I stared out the window, as we passed by the famous beach houses I found myself always admiring, the radio still playing softly in the background. The houses were huge, with wide balconies and high roofs, large decks and perfectly mowed lawns, along with some people sitting outside and enjoying the fresh air.
We didn't really speak to one another, she let me admire everything quietly for myself for a long while, until we began to drive up a hill.
"So, this is where I live," she told me, sort of sounding proud about it, and sort of sounding a little bit tired. I couldn't decide between the two.
I looked up as we drove past the last few palm trees, now facing one of the nicest houses I've ever seen. She stopped the car, looking out my window to see her own home. The house was ginormous and white, and had a lawn so perfectly mowed that you couldn't even tell a hurricane had hit. It looked like a slightly smaller version of the White House.
"Holy shit," I whispered out, "You live in that?"
"Yeah," she said, "You should come over some time, I could show you around," I looked over to see her smiling kindly at me.
"That would be so cool," I laughed, in awe.
"There's my dad," Sarah pointed a finger in the direction of my window, causing me to look out.
I saw a tall bearded-man, with dark brown hair, wearing a buttoned-up cream coloured long sleeve. He had wide constructor-glasses on, and was carrying a lawn machine in his hand, making his way to the front of the house.
"Driving away before he sees me," she laughed out loud, moving back to sit in her original spot, pressing the gas.
I laughed in return, as we drove back down the other side of the hill, driving away from the marvellous home. Her hands tapped the steering wheel along with the quiet beat of the music playing, humming along calmly.
"That, up there," she stopped humming as she slowed the car down on another expensive street, her finger pointed up out her window, "is the bell tower of an old church that's been here for, like, ages," she told. "It's abandoned now, no one really goes in it."
I leaned downwards and stared out her window, looking at the top of the bell tower. She began to drive again after a moment, explaining some of the nice houses and her friends that lived in them, and even sharing history about the island that I didn't know about. I listened to it all, though, enjoying the way she explained things so perfectly, and how she spoke so effortlessly to me, as if we had been friends for years.
Eventually, after driving for another little bit we had made it to the town I was familiar with, the one I'd driven through with the bike on my first day. There was many more people than a few days before, I'd noticed. Sarah parked her expensive car near the blue house, the vehicle sort of standing out amongst the other ones, but she didn't seem to mind.
"The little house right there," she pointed to the blue building I'd seen a few times. "That's basically like a City Hall, it's where the radio station comes from, I think. I come down here a lot with my father," she explained, both of us looking out at the house.
Sarah opened her door.
"Where are we going?" I asked, calmly, my eyebrows softly narrowing.
She stopped, and smiled, "I wanna show you the docks."
___
"And then he jumped over the table, waved to the teacher, and just left the room,"
Sarah clutched her stomach from laughing, nearly dropping her bag of popcorn on the ground as she bent over. My sides began to hurt from laughing too hard, and my feet staggered to keep a straight pace while we both chuckled, out of breath.
"Are you serious," I could barely breathe, barely getting the words out through my laughs.
"I cannot make this shit up," she threw her head back, the sun hat almost tipping off as she stood up from leaning, her hands clutching the plastic bag harder. "Funniest fucking day of my life," she breathed out heavily, trying to keep in more laughter.
We were walking side-by-side, along a different part of the docks. More expensive boats, unlike the ones I'd seen when I went with John B, surrounded us at every angle. People waved to Sarah and I, and we waved back, as she explained more about the island. A few times, some adults had approached us and greeted Sarah, and she introduced me to her family friends and her dad's work partners. It felt nice to be introduced to other people as if I were special.
Sarah made a stop at one of her father's friends boats, collecting a bag of popcorn that they let us take for free, and she suggested we'd share. And so we did, and soon found ourselves strolling and talking along the docks as the sun began to set. After a while, I slowly began to not care about the rich people's looks towards me. They still stared, wondered who Sarah Cameron could possibly be talking to, and looked at my soiled clothes.
I've never had someone talk to me so easily as Sarah did. We'd just met a few days prior, and she was already warming up to me. It surprised me a ton, that within another two hours, we were telling stories and making jokes as if we'd been friends since little kids. She showed me everything; even things on The Cut. Our effortless connection reminded me of my grandma, and how we immediately got along right after meeting.
While Sarah and I joked and talked, I kept thinking about Caroline and the night we spent hours talking in my bedroom, that first night I arrived. The two reminded me of each other, and I figured thats why I was already so comfortable with Sarah. She didn't care that I didn't tell her about my parents, she never asked why I suddenly showed up on the island at random, she even didn't mind that I was living on the Cut, and she didn't care to be seen with me.
I didn't care that we were getting along so fast, because it was nice to have a girl friend that I could talk to. And I told myself, that if she didn't care about me (technically) being a 'Pogue', I wasn't going to think of her as Kook Princess.
"I swear to god," Sarah's face was enlightened with a happy look, the aftermath of laughing, "I would do anything to go back to that day."
She put her arm out to the side, holding the popcorn bag with that hand. I reached in and grabbed a handful, and she folded her arm back and reached in after me. We were both silently chuckling, walking slowly down the end of the docks, when we turned a corner. While pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, I looked forward and nearly choked on the popcorn in my mouth when I saw who was suddenly around the bend.
It really was a small island after all.
My eyes unintentionally widened when I laid them on John B, charging straight for where we had just come from. He noticed Sarah, and then looked to me, and then looked back to Sarah, barely showing any signs of surprise. Beneath his dark bruise, there was a strong sense of hatred in his eyes, and a certain anger I hadn't seen on him before. He only showed the slightest amount of shock at the fact that I happened to be in his path, and with her.
"Oh, hey, John B," I said, as casually as I could, trying to tame my wide eyes. It was somewhat awkward after everything that previously happened— the lighthouse, the hug.
He swiftly walked right past Sarah and I with a rude air, not saying a word.
My mouth fell open, "I'm sorry, that's it," I called after him, my voice a tad angry but mostly confused.
A few hours earlier, I was comforting him, and now, he walked past me like I didn't exist. I quickly thought that it had something to do with the cops, and instantly, my face softened.
"Not even a hello?" Sarah added.
After Sarah spoke, he stopped as if her voice demanded him too, while it didn't. Suddenly, he roughly turned himself around, his intimidating eyes pinned on her face. He marched right up to us.
"Your secret's safe with me?" John B spat with a rough tone, approaching dangerously close to her.
"John B," I lightly pushed his arm back, but he didn't budge. I'd never seen him like this, and I didn't like it. He wasn't his usual charming self, chuckling and joking.
"What secret— oh," Sarah smiled humorously, not seeing a problem, "That secret."
"I just got fired because of you," he spoke with a strong tone, his words causing her eyebrows to narrow, "and I know you can't imagine that, but some people need jobs so they can eat."
Before she could say anything else, he hit the bag of popcorn out of her hand, sending it flying to the floor and all over me. He turned away and stormed off with a fit of rage.
"What the fuck!" Sarah shouted, throwing her hands onto her head, and I yelled the same thing.
"I'll be right back," I told Sarah with an angry tone, while wiping the popcorn pieces off my clothing.
I ran after John B, my feet skipping fast.
"What the hell was that, John B!" I called after him, yelling to the back of his head. I picked and pulled popcorn pieces from my hair.
He turned around right as I caught up with his fast strides. "Why are you with Sarah Cameron." He asked, more as a demand. His eyes were dark, and I didn't like the look in them.
I narrowed my eyebrows sharply, "What is this about, did something happen with the cops?" I ran my hands through my hair out of nerves.
"Give me the compass." He ordered lowly.
I reached into my pocket, hesitantly, looking at him with wary eyes. "What happened, John B? You don't look okay," I said, voice still sounding angry, but now more soft.
But, he didn't reply as he roughly grabbed the compass from my grip, before turning around and running away without another word.
༄
- 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦
𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰
𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 !!