"Oh my god!"

Alana furrowed her brows in worry when she heard Pope's explain, and just as she was about to step inside the classroom to check on them, a group of girls, whom just so happened to be the richest out of 'the poor' (which was yet another condescending nickname for the Pogues), approached her. "Hey." Lacy greeted with a smile, "what's up?" Lana replied with a quick return smile.

"So," her red-headed friend began through smacks of her gum, "you know the, the uhm—"she faltered a bit, letting her words drag. Her eyes were red. She definitely wasn't sober. "You know Ro— she probably doesn't know him." She cut herself off unnecessarily, turning back to her friends. "why would he ask to see her if they didn't know each other?" Rosette snapped, Alana had known her since she was young. They attended school together kindergarten through highschool.

"Oh.. yeah. I guess." The red-head agreed. "Anywho, Rodrick Asher was asking around for you in the boneyard, like— a couple hours ago. He asked us to tell you to meet him there asap." She explained, fiddling with her necklace as she spoke. "Huh." Alana scoffed, "okay, I'll see you around." She mumbled quickly before beginning to walk away.

She felt their eyes on her and heard them mentioning both JJ and Rafe. Lana rolled her eyes with a smirk.

She knew that a lot of people on the island disliked her, she also knew that they were all just jealous. She didn't blame them. The girl had dated both the Kook and the Pogue prince, the one and only Rafe Cameron and JJ Maybank, for multiple years each.

She was very aware that JJ was attractive, firstly because girls were always either staring at him of just blatantly flirting with him right in front of her, and secondly because, hello, take a look at the man. She didn't think Rafe was necessarily unpleasant to look at - who was she kidding. The man was a fucking supermodel and Lana had to stop herself from verbally huffing and puffing whenever they made eye contact.

She continued her walk down the school hallways, stopping once she reached a toilet to enter it. It was one of those fancy staff bathrooms, the ones that had a private sink and mirror and stuff all in one room instead of multiple cramped stalls that smelled like weed and shit. Alana had decided that she fully deserved to use the room, the girl was pregnant after all.

She sat down to take a quick piss, admiring the fresh scent of the room before standing up to wash her hands. Then she felt something odd. Alana rinsed her hands before resting one cold, still damp one on her stomach. The feeling was sharp, almost like someone was pinching her. She suddenly remembered her OB telling her something about this before it dawned on her. The feeling was her baby kicking.

Sure she had felt it before, maybe for the last two weeks even, but the girl had been far too wrapped up in school work and finding a job - her best friend's dad blowing himself up was definitely a bit distracting as well - to notice. She raised her hoodie and turned to the mirror. She could see the slightest twitch in her belly if she looked really hard.

Who cares about English anyways, she thought to herself as she practically flew out of the doors before the coke addict principal could stop her and make her go sweep up his desk full of leftover sprinkles.

________________________________

Alana made what could've been a fifteen minute walk into a thirty minute one— or the baby did. The girl had stopped in at least two pickup toilets to take a piss. Rodrick was just going to have to deal with it.

"Rodrick?" Lana called out once she reached the centre of the boneyard, a hand on her stomach. "I swear to fucking God, man, if you're messing with me I'll shoot you." She grumbled to herself after he didn't answer her calling, before rounding the corner into the lesser known part of the yard, it was where most of the locals took their tourists of the night when they didn't want to take the fling home.

Lana almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Rodrick sitting in the corner, surrounded by dunes that blended in with his army green carhartt jacket. "Oh, shit. Hey Alana." He swung himself off of the sand and walked towards her, offering a quick smile and a sneaky glance at her stomach, which he could tell was beginning to lightly strain against her shirt. She gave him a quick hug which he reciprocated.

"Hey, what's up?" She asked, he tilted his head down to look at his shoes. Black airforces. Boring.

"You wanna sit?" He stalled answering the question. "Why not," she replied warily, going to rest against the sandy yet spiky dunes.

"They're closing my dad's case." He spoke after a minute of listening to the more aggressive crash of the waves. Fall was nearing, which was still at least 80 degrees on the OBX. Perfect surfing season, Rodrick thought.

"What the fuck? Why? Do those idiots actually think he killed himself?" Alana asked all at once, Rodrick shook his head, "Rafe did something, and I have no idea how he did it so don't ask me." He added quickly when he noticed Lana open her mouth to interrupt. "Ward was faced with the charges. The cops are saying he murdered Peterkin, my dad and some random pilot." Rodrick finally dropped the bomb.

"What the fuck." Lana muttered under her breath. "You're being for real right now?" She looked up to ask him, Rodrick deadpanned her. "'Course I fuckin' am." He scoffed.

"Huh." She sighed, "guess Rafe is good for something."