CHAPTER ELEVEN:
RITA'S KINDRED SPIRITS
[EPISODE FIVE: MIDSUMMERS]
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The Pogues, of course, follow the ambulance to the hospital, JJ driving with an inconsolable Sarah in the cab. Sarah's parents are called, and her dad's meeting them at St Olive's, the hospital downtown. Once they arrive, JJ swings into the ambulance parking lot, which is most definitely illegal, as both Pope and Rita point out
"I'll find somewhere else," he dismisses. "Just go see if he's okay."
The other four pour out of the Volkswagen doors and JJ reverses, swings around, and disappears into the dark expanse of the huge parking lot to go find somewhere to pull up. Rita glances back, half wondering if he really is going to find somewhere, or if he's going to find Topper; she can't trust him not to do the latter, but she's realised that she really doesn't mind. Whatever Topper gets, he deserves.
"Hey, come on," Pope says, seeing her lagging behind and going back for her.
She follows him into the hospital waiting area, which is bustling with sick and well folk alike, and Sarah's already pushed to the front of the queue to reception with a name drop of her dad and is asking about John B.
"You did good," Pope says quietly as they both watch her.
"So did you," Rita replies. Pope had been the one to sprint back to the car to grab a cellphone and call 911 -- at least, that's what he'd said after the ambulance arrived, because in the heat of the moment she'd been too busy leaning over John B's unresponsive body to notice what anybody else was doing. "My dad's gonna have a nervous breakdown when he sees me. Although I think Sarah's already having one." Because she is currently interrogating the nurse at the desk.
"They don't actually call them nervous breakdowns anymore," Pope says lightly, and she looks across at him with a grimace, unable to tell if he's joking. From the way he nods at her earnestly, he's not. "It's a major depressive episode."
"... Thanks, that really helps me out with my dad problem."
Pope grins. "Sorry."
At that moment, Sarah joins them again, followed by a pursed-lipped Kie. The blonde's arms are folded around her as she rubs at her eyes with one hand; her sobbing stopped at some point during the ride over to the hospital, but tears occasionally keep coming. "They say he's being taken into the ICU now," she explains. "He's got a concussion and they think a broken arm. They're gonna x-ray him."
There's sighs of relief. A weight lifts off Rita's chest, and she has to turn away before she starts crying just from sheer joy, seeing in the corner of her eye as Sarah goes to sit down and Pope pulls Kie into a one-armed hug. She knows Kie's crying simply from the shake of her shoulders, her face hidden in Pope's blue button-up.
"Hey!"
Rita looks up at the sound of JJ's familiar gruff shout; pushing through people, he's pulling off his cap as he dashes over to Kie, looking between all three of them. He puts his hand on her shoulder, trying to get a good look at her face, which is still on Pope's shoulder. "Oh, God, what's happened? Kie -- what's happened?"
Crossing over to them, Rita quickly shakes her head, sniffing. "He's fine. They're," she huffs a laugh, but it's not at all real, "they're relieved tears. He's gonna be fine."
The relief sweeping through him, in the same way it washed over Rita, is clearly visible in the way his posture seems to loosen like a weight has been lifted off his spine and his muscles have lost all their tension. He rubs at his mouth, adjusting his cap again, and then does the most surprising thing: like a grandpa with his children, he throws his arms over Kie and Pope and dips his head into the space between them.
Rita has to turn around. She feels like she's invading a private moment between them all.
Spotting Sarah, and remembering how distraught the girl had been over John B, she crosses over and hesitantly sits next to her. The blonde has her elbows on her knees, chin propped on her palm and the other hand pinching at some skin near her elbow as if out of nervous habit.
"You good?" Rita asks tentatively.
Sarah doesn't look at her. "I never knew you were friends with those guys."
"I'm... Not. Not really," she says after a moment. She guesses Sarah doesn't want to talk about the obvious elephant in the room, that being John B and what went down at the look out, so she'll entertain her. "I think I just sort of...snuck up on them. And now they're stuck with me."
With watery eyes, Sarah half-smiles. She's still staring into the distance, chin in her hand, her other hand now picking at her dress. "Rafe would have an aneurism if he found out," she murmurs.
"He saw me ditch Midsummers with them all. He's probably had it by now," says Rita. She pretends to glance around at the hospital waiting room around them, shading her eyes with her hands mockingly. "I wonder if we'll see him around."
Sarah full-smiles, finally turning her head and looking at Rita, who smiles back. She's glad to have gotten a grin out of her, even if it's small and over such a ridiculous joke that hadn't been all that funny. As dull and Kooky as she'd seemed when Rita had first met her, she doesn't seem so bad now; maybe all her first impressions of everyone on this island had been wrong.
Then, Sarah Cameron does the most surprising thing. She takes her chin off her hand, sits back, and without looking at Rita, reaches over and takes her hand.
Struck by the invasion of touch that came from nowhere, Rita freezes at first, but then lets her, slowly moving her fingers to lock around Sarah's. She has the slightest suspicion the blonde is starting to cry again, but she keeps her stare to herself and let's her have her moment in private. "He's gonna be okay, Sarah," is all she says, and even that is spoken so softly that nobody else will hear.
"I know."
They lapse into silence, watching the hospital move around them like they don't exist. People are so preoccupied in their lives, their jobs, their ailments, that their peculiar outfits are payed no attention. Rita is struck momentarily by how big the world is: all these people, all their problems, so many people in one place that she'll never see again when she leaves those hospital doors and moves on with her life and they move on with theirs.
"What are you gonna tell your dad?" Sarah asks her after a few more long seconds of silence.
Rita smiles dryly. "What are you gonna tell yours?"
"I was hoping you'd give me some ideas."
"Me too." A pause. "I'll probably tell him nothing. What he doesn't know can't hurt him."
"I can't tell him about Topper," Sarah says firmly, somewhat out of the blue. "I think that'll push him past the line. Sneaking out, meeting John B, him falling... He can believe that. But Topper..." She trails into nothing, speechless.
Rita's eyes catch on JJ, who is still with Kie and Pope, his arms hung loosely around their backs but his head pulled back more so that they can talk. She thinks of what Pope said earlier that night about Rafe and the golf club, what happened at the drive in, and JJ getting convicted for sinking a boat he didn't actually sink... About Rafe slapping her. Anger bubbles up up up.
"They can't keep getting away with all the shit they do," Rita says.
Sarah says nothing in return. Doesn't even look at her.
Then Rita confesses through an exhale, "Rafe scares the living shit out of me sometimes," before her mouth can tell her mind not to blurt such things out into the open.
"Me too," says Sarah, so softly it's almost invisible. "Sometimes."
"Must be all the molly," Rita tries to joke, to lighten the mood and diffuse the miserable atmosphere before it suffocates her -- but Sarah has no reaction. Her heart swings with pity, and the anger dissipates completely. "But, yeah, I guess we don't have to blab about Topper."
"I still feel a bit loyal to him," Sarah says, speaking quickly and completely out of the blue. "Is that bad?" Then, like she knows the answer to her own question, she quickly rushes into her list of excuses: "I mean, we've been dating for so long, and before John B, I always thought it was supposed to be me and Topper. Y'know. Forever. Maybe that was stupid of me. But he's not all bad. And for every angry thought I have, there's three good ones. Like, he bought me flowers, or made me feel good about myself, or--"
"Sarah," Rita interrupts, and inhaling sharply (she hadn't been breathing at all during her rambling) Sarah looks at her with eyes that are strangely frightened. "I get it. He was a big part of your life. And people aren't black and white."
Slowly, Sarah nods and looks away again. She says nothing, but Rita's heart glows with warmth when the blonde girl squeezes her hand as if to say thank you.
"Hey," JJ's voice says, and Rita looks up to see him hesitating a few feet away. Rubbing his sweaty hands on his cargo shorts, he nods backward. "Pope and Kie are gonna wait around until they get an update on his x-ray, but you told me how your dad is, so I can give you a ride home, if you'd like."
"Oh, oh, shit, yeah."
In the hassle, she'd almost completely forgotten about promising her dad she'd be home soon. About half an hour has passed since their phone call -- at an estimate. Not too bad. Maybe he'll be able to hold the nervous breakdown -- or rather, the 'major depressive episode' -- until another day.
She looks at Sarah. "You good here on your own?"
Sarah nods, pulling back her hand and smiling half-heartedly. "Yeah. My dad'll be here soon."
"Okay. Text me if you need me -- 'n let me know how John B is," she says, and with that she gives JJ a smile and starts to follow him out of the waiting room. "Did you park far?"
Kie and Pope wave goodbye; she smiles over her shoulder in return.
"Nah, not really," he says, taking off his cap. Grinning, he secures it on her head, shaking her head around as he does so (on purpose) with enough vigour to make her wiggle. "I think it's startin' to rain, though, so there you go."
She winces, adjusting it slightly. "Don't you have nits?"
"Lice, actually."
"Ew."
They emerge from the hospital doors, which are open wide to let the cool air in; there's a revolving door as well, whirling continually round and round. Above them there's a canopy, to protect the people coming out for cigarettes, and the red glowing sign reading EMERGENCY. Like JJ said, it's raining hard now, she can see it shattering the concrete and hear it pattering on the canopy; yet another storm has finally hit after building up enough tension with its rumbling thunder.
"This way, Fletcher," JJ says, and he jerks his head as he pulls his shirt up slightly to cover his head, bowing forward. Rita tries not to hesitate at the sight of a sliver of his tanned back, two dimples visible just above his shorts, and follows him at a dash into the rain.
Splashing in already forming puddles, they hurry across the parking lot for a few moments, before the Volkswagen appears among other silver and black vehicles, and JJ fishes out his keys with one hand. He clicks a button and there's a beep as the doors unlock. Rita hops into the passenger seat, gasping in relief to be out of the thunderous rain, and a moment later JJ slides in behind the wheel.
He puts his shirt back in place, before giving her a breathless grin. "Crazy weather, huh?"
"Yeah. My dad's probably having a heart attack right about now." She pulls off his cap, brushing over her hair with one hand, and then chucks it on the dash. "Jesus, my poor dress. I don't think that hat did much. I'm soaking." Her ringlets from earlier are completely gone now, hair frizzy.
"Yeah," JJ says, "I just wanted to see you in it."
The car rumbles to life and JJ leans his arm on the back of their seats, craning back to see what he's doing as he reverses. He winks at Rita, who just keeps looking at him with slightly widened eyes and a breathless, open smile. She can't find the words.
"Jesus, let's hope we don't get electrocuted. Man, I'd rather not fry to death in this metal box," he murmurs as they pull out of their space.
"Actually, cars are pretty safe during lightning storms. The rubber on the tires is a pretty good insulator so it can't conduct -- what, why are you looking at me like that?"
Furrowing his eyebrows and swallowing as if to gather his answer, JJ smiles and faces forward, spinning the wheel smoothly through his hands. "You're just as bad as Pope," he says, but something about it is tinged with fondness.
It's practically a maze getting out of the hospital parking lot, and they bicker all the while about which way is the right way and which lane is the right lane, until they finally make it and Rita huffs in annoyance (because he'd been right, after all, despite her stubbornness).
JJ leans forward and grabs the cap with his free hand, the other on the wheel, and sets it on his head. "Don't pout, Kook Genius. It's alright to be wrong sometimes."
"Not to imbeciles like you."
"Yeah, I sure must be a shock to your ego," he agrees in a murmur.
Rita smiles to herself, hating the fact that she can't stay angry.
They drive quietly for a while, radio on a low volume and wipers whirring as rain patters the windows and roof. They both smell like wet dog, their clothes soaked, and Rita feels the fabric of her dress sticking to her legs awfully as she watches the world blur by outside her window.
She can't tell if it's seconds or minutes of silence, but once again, like the night they smoked on the curb outside her house, she feels at peace. It's not awkward, and she doesn't feel the usual urge to fill the silence with rambling nonsense. It's content.
"Hey. JJ?" she says after a while.
"Yeah?"
She turns her head away from the window and examines his side profile for a moment: sharp jaw; pointed nose that curves upward and is almost feminine; skin littered with bruises and awful swelling. Hair fumbling over his forehead. She's not really noticed it before, but he's quite handsome, in his own way -- if you ignore the flawed hygiene and terrible dress sense.
"Why'd you vote for me?"
He seems confused, glancing between her and the road a few times.
"John B said you all took a vote," she says, and realisation dawns. He starts to nod ponderously. "He and Kiara against, you and Pope for. I didn't expect you to take my side. I thought you... didn't like me."
He hesitates, before screwing up his nose and shaking his head. "You're remembering it wrong. You hated my guts, I never hated yours."
"Bold of you to assume I still don't," she scoffs, grinning.
"Well, I'm still not worshipping at your feet either, Rita Fletcher."
"Yet."
He rolls his eyes. "We took a vote the morning after the drive-in. Before I got arrested." He says it so casually, without blinking, even though it feels for Rita like a fist is closing around her heart. "It wasn't about letting you know about the gold, more about letting you hang out with us again sometime. And I guess..."
He shrugs awkwardly with one shoulder, not looking at her. As they drive under headlamps and streetlights, warm light rhythmically flashes fleetingly through the van and she sees in one flash that he's getting a little pink.
"I guess I wouldn't mind hanging out with you."
Rita bites her lip. Her brain tells her not to smile, not to show her delight, not to glow with the joy of it all, so she has to turn her head away from him before sunshine spills right out of her. "Oh," is all she says, watching two raindrops race down her window.
"Plus, I think Pope's been dying to have another smart ass in the group for a while. And, y'know, guess we made the right choice, after what you did for JB back at the Hawk's Nest," he says, swiftly ending the awkwardness over his compliment. "It was a pretty smart move. Y'know, for a Kook."
"Thanks." Her voice is soaked with sarcasm.
"So. My turn. Why'd you choose us?"
"Huh?"
JJ laughs, gripping the wheel with both hands as he checks his mirrors. "Don't bullshit. You chose us just as much as we chose you. So, why us? You could have easily gone full Kook."
The crushing loneliness? The need for excitement? The loathing of her bubble-wrap life? The hatred of cliches that just seem to greet her every time she enters the Figure Eight? Any one of those would do, but instead she jokes, "The gold, obviously."
"Bullshit again," he says, raising a finger. "I know it's not the money, because, no offence, but you have the rest of your life locked down and ready to go. You don't need that money. Plus, you saved my ass at the drive-in after we gave up on the hunt. And clearly, you'd ditched Rafe by the time you ran into me earlier tonight."
"Jeez. Is it your turn to be Sherlock Holmes now?" Rita asks, calling back to earlier that night.
JJ grins. "You have your tells too, y'know?"
Rita rolls her eyes.
"C'mon. Answer the question. Stop being such a mysterious Bond girl and give me some explanations."
"Bond girl?"
"Yeah, the dress, the hair. Bond girl. But c'mon. You said I was a 'brute', or something like that. You used to be scared of me. What changed?"
"Nothing changed," Rita says. "I still hate you."
Smiling, JJ pinches his lips to one side in thought, glancing between her and the road a couple of times. "Keeping your secrets, are you?"
"For now? Yes. I don't share the dirty details with common Pogues."
Speaking of Pogues and Kooks... It makes her mind, and the mood, turn onto darker topics.
"I can't believe Topper did that," she says after a beat.
Surprised at her sudden turn, JJ seems to stiffen like he's a puppet who's just been pulled taut at every limb. The bones in his jaw protrude even in the dim light, and his fingers clench hard around the wheel. "Yeah, me neither," he says lowly. "I'm guessing Sarah doesn't want to tell anyone."
"It's John B's choice," Rita says to avoid having to answer. "Whether we press charges or not."
"We should. God knows, he's tried to fuck me over with the restitution bullshit, so we can do the same."
Restitution? Rita repeats in her head, turning back to her window as she contemplates silently. Why had that never occurred to her? Especially since, the night of the drive-in, Rafe and his buddies had been preaching so holily about the price of the boat and it's sheer, unappreciated worth. God, she really is an idiot.
"How much?" she asks softly.
He tightens his grip even more on the wheel, twisting his knuckles around the leather. Light flashes through the car; his knuckles are white. "Thirty grand."
Jesus. She almost scoffs before she realises that'd probably be a bad reaction. Instead, her mouth just drops open and hangs there, soundless and speechless.
When she's silent for too long, he glances at her and, seeing her expression, starts to nod. "Yeah. That was pretty much my old man's reaction, too."
She swallows. "JJ, I..." But no words come.
Out of nowhere, he smiles slightly. The puppet strings lose their tension, and he loosens up like he had in the hospital when he realised everything was okay. "Hey, come on," he says, like she's the one with money issues. "Don't get emotional. It's fine. We're back in the G game, baby."
"Yeah," she manages to say. "Yeah we are."
The turn in mood surprises her, and it certainly doesn't work because, even though he's smiling at her like he's trying to coax a grin out of her, her throat is still as dry as sandpaper. But, the more she thinks about it, the less surprised she is. This guy, this stupid delinquent, this 'gun-toting moron', had taken the blame for his friend and put it on his own shoulders, and now he doesn't want to upset Rita with his issues. He'd pulled a gun on a Kook for the sake of his friend. He'd been the first to get to John B's side that night, and hadn't hesitated in wanting to go after Topper.
Huh.
She thinks JJ just might be one of the most selfless people she's ever met.
Selfless to the point where it's harmful.
"Welcome back to Kooklandia," JJ says as they pull onto Rita's street, waking her from her thoughts.
It's dark, the only glow coming from street-lamps. The avenue is lined with houses that are mostly shut off and locked for the night, although a few that they pass have cabs outside as people return home late from Midsummers. They roll slowly down the road, until they turn to the right and pull into Rita's driveway. He pulls up by the hedge, behind her father's car.
"You going home after this?" she asks as the radio shuts off, one hand going to the door handle.
He shrugs. "Probably. Might just slum it at John B's. My, uh, my dad's not too happy with me either, right now."
Rita smiles. "I'm sure he'll get over it. Thanks for the ride. I owe you one -- well, two, now, actually."
He grins when he understands her recall to the night of the drive-in, rolling his eyes at the feeling of deja-vu -- but he still plays into her joke and repeats, "You're good, Kook Genius," in exactly the same way he'd said it that night, too.
She hops out, slamming the door and he gives her a nod and a smile through the rain-smeared glass before she starts at a dash toward the house, the headlamps following her up her driveway. He waits until he knows she's safe, until she's waved again from the porch and has opened her front door, before honking a goodbye and starting the van up with a rumble of the engine.
authors note:
i think this chapter seriously cements jj and rita as proper friends rather than just acquaintances like when they smoked together, and ugh i'm so happy. i can't decide if this fic is enemies to lovers or is just falling in love with ur best friend trope, but i think i'm leaning toward the latter because they really didn't spend a lot of time hating each other lmao
anyway, writing the past two chapters has made me so happy and i'm really proud of them! i'm slightly worried that the flirty banter is a little too much or a bit soon?? so please let me know what u think
remember to comment and vote if u enjoyed, they really mean the world to me!