F O U R T E E N
hugs are the new sex.

I think I heard in some class at some point that, without fire, we wouldn't be where we are today with technological advancements. But sometimes I daydream and make stuff up by accident.

As you get closer to a fire you get the cold warm, the nice warm, the toasty warm, the getting a little painful warm, and the setting on fire warm. Personally, the 'getting a little painful warm' is my favourite, don't know what that says about me.

I shuffle toward the fire started, Pope throws dry sticks onto it. My hands extend out, I get toward almost a little painful warm before someone grabs my shoulder. I turn around, very offended.

"You're going to set yourself on fire, you were perfectly fine here." He tells me.

"I am capable of making my own decisions, and if I want to set myself accidentally on fire then I can," I turn back to the fire.

"You're way too drunk, you breathe in the direction and you'll go up I'm flames." He insists.

Rolling my eyes I go back to the spot next to him, mumbling about how awful he is.

"Hey, guys, so my Dad is already going to kill me. So, what's this mandatory meeting about?" Pope asks, sitting himself down beside me. He glances over to me and I shrug, I barely know my own name. John B and JJ look at each other, John B gestures for JJ to start talking about the reason we all sit here being banned from getting close to the fire.

JJ leans back, "Might as well tell him, man, before we're gaffed."

Kie looks worried, and if I wasn't tipsy I would be too. John B looks between the three of us who have no clue what's happening. "You ready for this?" He asks excitedly. Really going for the suspense.

"Yeah," Kie nods tentatively.

This better live up to the dramatic effect. "So," John B begins. "The gold never went down on the Royal Merchant." I can hear Pope grumble something I can't understand but it still makes me laugh.

Seeing John B is losing people's interest, JJ goes into defence mode. "No. All right, wait. Hear him out, all right." He looks at me, not pleased I started to laugh at unintelligible mumblings.

"It's been here the whole time," John B gets back on with his story. "It's on the island." He looks around for yet more dramatic effect.

Kie can't help but laugh, "Are you serious?" She asks, prompting John B to nod in confirmation. "Oh my God." She smiles in disbelief.

"I'd like to voice my scepticism," Pope announces the shocking news as he leans forward a little.

"Now that's unlike you, Pope," I grin at him.

John B stands up, "I'm sure you would, Pope." No one is surprised. "But can I please present you with my evidence, sir?" John B asks, waiting for Pope to answer.

"Proceed," Pope waves him all. This is feeling very much like a court. I hope JJ doesn't have any PTSD flashbacks. He is a convict, after all.

John B picks up his backpack, "All right. So, in my backpack, I have a letter from Denmark Tanny." He pulls out a folded piece of paper. For something that holds so much alleged importance, you'd expect it to look grand, but it just looks like a normal piece of paper. Old and worn. I wanted some golden borders, maybe some washi tape, or some shit.

"Am I meant to know who that is?" I ask, tipping my head to the side, racking my brain for something I've missed.

"Denmark Tanny was a slave that survived the Royal Merchant wreck, check this out." He walks over to me and hands the yellowed paper over. I cannot explain how badly I want to throw it in the fire, but I refrain.

"Okay, slaves weren't mentioned as crew members on the ship. But my Dad, he found the complete manifest. That was his big discovery. So, Tanny used the gold from the Merchant to buy his freedom." After looking over the barely legible cursive, I hand it over to Pope. "After that, he bought his farm. Drumroll please... because that farm is..." He stops and everyone begins to drumroll while I convince myself not to throw up. Champagne has never agreed with me.

"Tannyhill plantation." John B makes the big reveal.

Kie looks happily surprised, "Tannyhill?" She repeats back to him.

"Yeah." He confirms because continuing the story. "So, after that, he used his money to free even more slaves, and then, after he sold a shit ton of rice, which pissed off all the white planters, they decided to lynch him."

"That got dark," I whisper.

John B continues, "So, on the day that they were coming to get him, he writes a letter to his son as a farewell, and in the last line of that letter, he leaves a coded message about where to find the gold."

I should write a farewell letter. Figure out how to write code and hide something disappointing. Like geocaching. But I'm dead.

"Where?" Kie whispers.

"'Harvest the wheat in parcel nine, near the water,'" he recites.

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" I ask, slightly disappointed it wasn't more direct. Like, The wheat is between the washing line and the old palm tree, about three feet deep, bring a shovel the dirt is rocky.

I'm going to really need to figure out a difficult treasure hunt. Then I'll figure out what to hide. Maybe my favourite plant pot? Or maybe I'll just stick with a dramatic letter. I feel like I won't exceed at secret codes.

John B points to me like I said something right when really I was just rambling. "Except... there's no wheat. You see, wheat is code for gold. Check this out." He walks over to Pope, who extends his hand out to give over, John B points to something. "The gold is in parcel nine, near the water," he repeats.

"Holy shit," Pope curses, all his scepticism vanished.

"All we need is an original survey map of the property, and we've found the gold," John B grins, sounding completely elated.

"Okay, so this might actually have a small chance of being true," Pope finally admits. JJ stands up, crossing in front of me and over to John B, I debate on slapping his butt, but I refrain. That seems like something I'd regret tomorrow. Wrapping his around John B, JJ picks him up in a tight hug.

I turn to Pope with a grin, I don't entirely know what's happening, but we're hugging. Opening my arms wide Pope looks at me strangely, "You gonna hug me?" I ask. He seems to catch and wraps me up in a hug. "You smell nice," I tell him once I pull away.

"Thank you, Frankie," he shakes his head with a smile.

"I'm so proud of you right now," JJ tells the boy with a cursed compass heirloom and a weird obsession with bandanas.

Said boy with a tragic home life—but that does seem to encompass JJ as well as John B—taps JJ's cheek, "That's very sweet of you." He grins.

"So, what's the plan?" Pope asks, ever the realist. Iggy Azalea has even been quoted as saying 'first things first Pope's the realest.' Google it if you don't believe me.

John B points to the boy sitting beside me, "Good question. So, Sarah Cameron is coming tonight," he starts. Immediately—even in my drunken state—I know this is going to blow over just as smoothly as Agatha. "She's going to bring the original survey map—"

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on," Kie cuts him off. Shocking. "Sarah? Wh–why Sarah?" Her question comes off accusatory.

John B seems to struggle to come up with something, he glances at me, I don't know if he wants me to somehow bail him out, or if he's about to say something I'm not going to like. I raise my eyebrow, wanting him to continue.

JJ stands beside me, "This is going to be good," he scratches his jaw, mumbling to himself. And me, technically. And possibly Pope, also technically.

"Sarah, um, she—she got me into the archives in Chapel Hill yesterday, and that's where I got the letter," he stumbles through the sentence.

Kie looks revolted, which offends me. Sarah is not the devil, kinda dumb sometimes. Yes. But aren't we all? "You were in Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron," she scoffs.

"Yeah, um—" he doesn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before JJ unhelpfully cuts him off.

"He was mackin' on her," JJ stops John B from beating around the bush.

I watch John B get fully into defensive mode, "I wasn't macking."

JJ looks at John B amused that he's denying it, it's kind of a 'you dug your own grave, bucko' look. "You were totally macking Sarah Cameron," he insists.

"I was just using her for access, okay?"

"You were what?" I ask, finally snapping after trying to hold it in for the sake of tomorrow me.

John B shakes his head, "That's not what I m—"

"You were macking on her? You either were or you weren't," Kie demands a clear answer.

"I wasn't. It was just because I needed access, but it's not as bad as you think, Frankie." John B tries winning both sides over.

"Not as bad as I think? How can you not see how fucked up that is? Sarah is my friend, and I'm not just going to sit here and put up with you talking about her like she isn't a person who has feelings. Especially not from you, Vlad," I snap.

"Of course, you stick up for her, she's all you care about," Kie rolls her eyes as she speaks to me. "Did you tell her about the treasure?" She asks John B.

"I was trying to get into the archives," He once again tries saying yes without having to admit to it.

"Is that a yes?" She pushes loudly. Needing a direct answer.

John B rakes a hand through his long hair. "I— I left out key details." I can almost see a stomach ulcer beginning to burn through his gut.

Kie looks beyond horrified, "You let a Kook in on our secret."

I scoff, "You cannot be fucking serious, Kie. You may be an honourary Pogue, but when you leave the Chateau and go back to your house tucked in a good neighbourhood, you sleep on your comfortable mattress with silky, thousand-thread count sheets and eat with a silver fucking spoon. You are not better than Sarah, so quite acting like it. It's unbecoming of you."

JJ looks down at me, surprised that I said what I said. I think it's a common feeling, everyone takes a second to process my angry words.

"You really want to start that?" She asks me.

I nod, "Go for it." I can tell she's still pissed off at me for hanging out with Sarah afternoon.

"Look at the car you drive—" I don't let her finish her point.

"A gift from Rafe, an apology after he cracked my head open. The first time, not a few days ago."

She grits her teeth together, "Okay, the house you live in?"

"Inherited from my grandparents. And, just for transparency, because that seems to be the point of this conversation, I'm more than likely going to be kicked out of that house for breaking up with Rafe. And since everyone seems to think I'm either fucking with JJ, or the English tutor. And they all seem to have decided I'm a pregnant, insane, slut," I rant.

"Oh woe is Frankie, everything is constantly against her. Maybe if you didn't cheat on your boyfriend none of this would've happened!"

"Kie, don't say that," JJ tries butting in but gets a poisonous glare of his own.

"You're going to stick up for her? Just 'cause you two have been banging for a bit? After everyth—"

I stand up, grabbing my shoes and my phone, "You know what Kie, fuck you." I shake my head as I begin walking away.

JJ stands up and grabs my wrist, "Mabel, I'll come with you," he says.

"Stop!" I don't mean to snap, I pull my wrist free. "Just leave me alone," I tell him, hating the slightly hurt look that falls over his face lit up by the warm light the fire provides. "I just need a second, please."

He doesn't say anything, answering with a simple nod.

The way home from the spot on the beach goes directly through the heart of The Cut. I walk carefully along the road, avoiding broken beer bottles that have been tossed out of cars or thrown at people's heads in fights.

My head is full of shit. The thing weighing heavy is how much of a bitch I feel like. I didn't mean to say that to JJ, he didn't deserve that, but I can't take it back. I fucked it all up, and I can't put the blame on anyone but myself. Maybe I can fix it? Offer him a good blow job and a Diet Coke and, in return a 'forgive and forget' deal.

I think that type of deal would just work on me.

After getting through The Cut, and entering Figure Eight, dread pools in my stomach. I should hide in someone's pool house, or my brother's house. I think he'd take me in.

Getting to my house I walk around the back, not daring to go through the front door. Carefully I open the back door and walk up to my bedroom, immediately getting out of the stupid dress. I throw it in the corner, but immediately feel bad and pick it up and put it in the back of my chair. It'll just go in the back of my wardrobe alongside the other dresses I've worn once and cost way too much.

Looking through my options for comfortable clothes my hands stop on a dangerous option. Chucked in with my shirts I look like a naked mole rat in, is a faded green shirt with a cracked picture of a fish on the front.

I stare at the fish, the fish states back. Daring me to wear it.

I flip the fish off.

I grab the shirt and put it on, "It's only because I feel bad for snapping," I whisper to the fish as I feel it judging me.

It still smells like JJ. I think this is making me feel more like a bitch.

Tucked in the back of my closet is some leftover tequila, I grab out the bottle and my shot glass with boobs on it. Pouring myself shots I throw back a few. I need carbs, going downstairs is dangerous, especially since I've got carbs in my room. Walking to my desk I pull open the bottom drawer and dump all the books from last year's finals out until I find the box of brownies.

There are three left. I'm sensible, I'll only have one.

Putting them back, I tuck the tequila back in its rightful spot—after another shot—and rinse out the tit shot cup.

Looking at myself in the mirror I look sad. Haggard, even. Just as I rub my face aggressively after washing off my makeup my phone begins buzzing.

It's Sarah. I answer as I rub what I think is moisturiser on my face, but it stings a lot, so it could be bleach for all I care.

"Hola," I greet as I fumble to put the phone on loudspeaker.

"It's John B, he-he fell. Topper, he pushed him!" She sobs from the other side of the line.

I lean down dramatically and tap my head on the porcelain sink hard enough it gives me a headache. This night just keeps getting worse.

"Is he dead? Or seriously maimed?" I ask bluntly. Probably too bluntly.

"What?" Sarah cries harder. I'm great at comforting people.

"What do you need me to do? I've got a pot brownie kicking in soon so I'll have to do it quickly. I can bring you Diet Coke?" I offer.

"You took another one?" She says through sobs.

"Doesn't matter. Circling back to John B, what happened?" I ask for clarification. Everything I say makes her cry harder. Maybe I should hang up, I seem to be doing more harm than good. An incoherent blur of words comes through the line. "Pass the phone over to someone else, babe," I instruct gently.

"Where are you?" Kie asks.

I roll my eyes and flip off the phone. "Back at mine. Do you need me to go somewhere?" I ask holding my middle finger up until it aches.

"Meet us back at the Chateau. Fuck, the ambulance is here now," she hangs up.

From the little information I have, it seems like there was an attempted murder. If John B needs an ambulance I doubt he got pushed off a tree stump. Do they send ambulances to pick up dead people? Because there was no confirmation he is still in the land of the living.

I slap myself across the face. "Sober up, we need to walk without getting abducted or hit by a car," I tell myself.

I stumble as I get my shoes on, and go back through the back door as quietly as possible. I switch between running until I trip and then walking until it stops hurting. Finally getting to the Chateau I knock on the door, it opens a second later. JJ looks worse than I did last time I checked, which is unusual for him, he's pretty consistently hot.

"Hi," I smile.

JJ walks outside with me, shutting the creaky door behind him.

"Sorry, I ran here, and walked. Mostly walked, I'm not good at running when I am not completely sober. Go figure," I laugh awkwardly. "Anyway, how is he?"

"Sarah went with him in the ambulance, she's going to text you what the doctors say. Be he wasn't completely out," JJ says, his jaw tense and words full of stress.

I don't mean to sound insensitive, but why couldn't he have fallen before I ate another brownie and threw back a few more shots? Now I'm biting my tongue, overthinking everything I'm saying for fear of asking anything dumb.

"Want a hug?" I ask. JJ wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly like I'm about to say 'psych!' and run away. The loose hair from my plait tickles every time JJ breathes, his face buried in the crook of my neck.

"I thought he was gone," he whispers.

I move one of my hands that don't know what to do to the back of his head, brushing my fingers through his blond hair. "He's gonna be okay, JJ. I know it," I say the only thing that seems appropriate.

JJ pulls away and gives me a small smile, one that only slightly pulls at the corners of his mouth. "I don't think you even know your name right now, sweetcheeks," he seems amused, although it seems to be at my expense.

"I know my name," I scoff.

"What is it?" He asks.

"Mabel. That is according to you, so take it with a pinch of salt," I answer confidently.

"You're wearing my shirt, I liked that one. Doesn't have a hole," he looks at the faded picture.

I want to say it actually has four holes, but I don't. It doesn't seem appropriate.

"Well, I felt bad and then the fish looked at me funny," I explain.

"The fish looked at you funny? It's a two-d fish, Mabel. It doesn't look at anything," he smiles fully.

"Don't question me," I glare.

He raises his hands, "I won't do it again. Can I have your phone?" He asks.

I pull it out of my pocket and hand it over. "What do you want with it?" He puts the thing in his pocket.

"I'm pretty sure the second you sit down you're going to pass out, and I want to see when Sarah texts you. What's your password?"

"My birthday," I answer. "It's..." I trail off, trying to remember it myself.

"I know your birthday, let's go inside," he grabs my hands and opens the door, pulling me inside.

"How do you know my birthday? That's kinda creepy. Do you know where I live?" I glare at the back of his head as he sits down on the sofa, pulling me next to him.

"I was with you on your birthday. Want me to give you a rundown?" He offers, I shake my head, remembering the events. His hand grabs my hip closest to him, "What is this?"

"My hip?" His hand digs in my pocket and pulls out a mini screwdriver. "Oh. It was for self-defence purposes. I didn't have a full-sized one. But you know what they say about size."

"I would've shit myself if I saw you in a dark alley with this," he holds it up.

"You should be terrified of me."

"Oh, trust me, you scare me with or without a blue, mini screwdriver," he throws it onto the cluttered coffee table. I lean back and get comfortable.

Sinking into the squishy sofa with cracked leather seats, I knock out pretty quickly. I feel JJ shift, cracking open one of my eyes. He puts in the code to my phone and checks the text Sarah must've sent him. "He's fine. A mild concussion and a broken wrist." He reads.

I can hear everyone let out a relieved breath.

Quickly after